Page 11 of Blood of the Fairest

Oh, god. His family is dead.

Because I didn't stop it in time.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't…" My whisper fizzles out.

I didn't give that order, the Bitch Queen did. I'm not her. I'm not even supposed to be here.

But no amount of explanation on my part will make things up to him. I'm standing in the place and body of the evil, blood-guzzling woman who orchestrated this, so all I can do is turn to the executioner.

"We're done here."

He dips his hooded head lower, which I hope is a confirmation.

"What about this boy? Does he have somewhere to go?" I ask.

The northerner boy is still quietly weeping. I'm pretty sure he'd rather jump off a cliff than interact with the evil queen again.

"His family's home burnt down a fortnight ago when they were arrested," the executioner replies. "After that, they were held in Isenmere Castle's dungeon, awaiting this day."

Damn. This poor kid has been through it, and now he has no home.

There's still a loud murmuring crowd behind me who apparently hasn't gotten the clue that the show's over. Behind the executioner's platform, I notice a large, sleek black carriage waiting beside another horse-drawn wagon like the one I woke up in earlier.

That must be for carrying the bodies away.

Namely, the bodies I'm still trying my hardest not to look at. I wasn't kidding about being squeamish, but the intensifying urge to get closer to that blood is actual torture.

"You're headed back to the castle in that?" I check with the executioner, pointing at the carriage.

"Yes. Ordinarily, I ride back at once to report to you or the council."

"Great. I'll hop in with you, and we'll bring the boy. There has to be a spare room somewhere in the castle where he can stay, right?"

One of the other guards makes a choked sound, his head still bowed deeply. "A northerner, invited into Isenmere Castle? My most beautiful queen, has your sanity deserted you?"

"Wanna ask that again to my face?" I challenge, snippy because I just want to get the hell out of here and away from all these eyes.

Now that this kid's life isn't on the line, Merrick's warning from earlier about it not being safe for me outside the castle is sinking in hard. I've already spent way too much time not feeling safe before waking up in this bizarre place.

Between all the adrenaline of fighting off three murderers, realizing I'm in a different world, stopping an execution, and now all these eyes on me…

I'm tired, cold, and incredibly fucking thirsty. All I want is to get out of this nasty dress and into a hot bath—and then hopefully there's a bed that I can fling myself dramatically onto so I can cry my eyes out.

Even though the guards are miffed about my orders, they get to work dragging the corpses—don't look, don't look—toward the wagon. I follow the executioner across the platform toward the black carriage. He opens the door and helps me into it without a word.

I've never been inside a carriage before. I pull the dirty, thin blanket off my head and bundle it around me, studying the velvet seats and the stained glass window on the ceiling that lets multicolored light into this black box.

At least it's away from all the whispering townsfolk.

One of the guards practically shoves the northerner boy in next. The poor kid looks like he wants to kill me, but he shrinks in on himself when the foreboding, dark-clad executioner sits beside him, across from me.

The executioner knocks loudly on the side of the carriage. I feel us start to move, but I can't see which direction we're going. For a long time, no one says anything.

Normally, I'm all for chatting on road trips to avoid falling into a void of awkward silence. I'm actually really good at casual small talk. But a lot of surreal shit just happened, so I'm kind of just staring numbly at the black wall of the carriage when the executioner finally breaks the quiet.

"Your Majesty."

"Hmm?" I manage. I almost rub the exhaustion from my eyes, but there's still dried blood all over my hands.