Page 90 of Ruling the Green

“What’s this?” I asked as we passed three redcaps being carried out of the castle on stretchers by members of the royal guard.

They were pale as parchment, their eyes glassy and far away.

“Who knows,” Tove said, shaking his head. “They’re always eating something they shouldn’t.”

My father’s quarters were roughly twice the size of mine, and he filled some of the space with a built-in office, complete with scrolls and books on ancient magic thought long gone.

He sat at the giant desk, piles of books and papers strewn all about, his hair wild and standing on end from running his hands through it.

As I suspected, his eyes were puffy and red. If he had slept, it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Father,” I greeted him as I closed in on the desk, reaching for a piece of paper to find his slanted handwriting filling the whole page. The only problem? It didn’t make sense. All there was to be found were open-ended ramblings of a deranged man.

Was this new?

Or had it been this bad for a long time?

What did the official documents look like?

Was this shit falling into the hands of important, powerful people?

Or was Tove stepping in and rewriting it all?

I didn’t know which possibility was the most upsetting.

I folded up the paper and discreetly shoved it in my pocket to show to Vishen when we were in my study.

“Jet. We need to do something about this,” he said, shoving something in my direction. I reached for the notepad, finding more scribbling. But instead of nonsensical sentences, all I found were random words scrawled across the top sheet.

Most alarmingly, right in the center, underlined and circled, was one word. No. A name.

CELESTINE.

Fuck.

I hadn’t heard him say her name in a while. I kind of hoped the memory of her was fading, that whatever was eating away at his mind was starting with his more recent memories and working backward.

“What is it you want me to do about this?” I asked, knowing it was never the right move to confront him with his insanity.

“You need to handle it.”

“Handle what? My sister?”

“Sister,” he snarled. “Sisters don’t scar their brothers.” His gaze flicked to my throat, the same raw rage there that had existed when he’d first seen me after the burn. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was stuck in that memory, if he was there in the past instead of the present moment.

“What do you want me to do to handle Celestine?”

“I need her here.”

“You want me to travel into the Seelie Court, steal their princess, and bring her here? Without getting burned again?”

“Gloves. You can make her wear gloves.”

“That’s… an option,” I agreed. “Why do you want Celestine right now?”

“She’s plotting against me.”

“Celestine isn’t on the throne,” I reminded him. “Dany is on the throne.”