I was shaking as I stalked through the main hall of Wayfair, passing the Royal banners and the gold-plated sconces that burned even with all the daylight streaming in through the many windows. Servants came and went in a continuous stream as they scurried from the kitchens to the Great Hall. They carried vases of night-blooming roses that were currently closed, pressed table linens, and glasses scrubbed spotless. As I walked, I couldn’t believe how the entire floor of Wayfair Castle smelled of roasted meat and baking desserts, while the Coupers lay dead in their bed, the evidence of what Penn and Amarys believed was their only option resting in that empty vial. They’d chosen a quicker death over a longer, drawn-out one. Meanwhile, there was enough food being prepared right now to have fed them for a month.
I wanted to tear down the banners and the sconces, rip the cloth and shatter glass. Fisting my dusty skirts, I climbed the wide, polished limestone stairs to the second floor, where I knew I’d find my stepfather. The greeting rooms on the lower level, lining the banquet room, were only used when meeting guests. I’d already checked there, and both rooms had been empty.
Reaching the landing, I headed into the castle’s west wing. As soon as the hall came into view, I saw several men outside my stepfather’s private rooms. The Royal Guards stood in their ridiculous uniforms, staring straight ahead, their hands resting on the hilts of swords I doubted they’d ever lifted in battle.
None of them looked in my direction as I approached. “I need to see the King.”
The Royal Guard who blocked the door didn’t even blink as he continued to stare straight ahead. He made no move to step aside.
My patience had left me the moment I saw what had become of the Couper family. I stepped closer to the guard, close enough that I saw the
tendons of his jaw clench. “You either step aside, or I will knock you aside.”
That got the older man’s attention. His gaze flicked to me, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening.
“And please feel free to doubt that I would carry through on that threat. Because I would love nothing more than to prove just how wrong you are,” I promised.
Pink seeped into the man’s face as his knuckles bleached white from how tightly he held the sword.
I cocked my head to the side, arching a brow. If he even dared to lift that fist an inch, I would break every godsdamn bone in his hand or die trying.
“Step aside, Pike,” another Royal Guard ordered.
Pike looked as if he would rather shove his entire face into a pot of boiling water, but he stepped aside. He didn’t reach for the door as he would’ve done for anyone else. The blatant disrespect wasn’t surprising, but I couldn’t care less as I gripped the heavy, gold handle and pushed the door open.
The rich sent of pipe tobacco surrounded me the moment I stepped into the sunlight-drenched chamber. Rays of light reflected off the handblown glass figurines lining the shelves. Some were of the gods and Primals. Others were animals, buildings, carriages, and trees. The King had collected them for as long as I could remember. I found him sitting behind the heavy iron desk at one end of the circular chamber.
King Ernald’s back was to the windows and balcony he’d stood on the night before. He had always been larger than life to me, broad of chest and tall, quick to laugh and smile. He wasn’t as ageless as my mother, though. The brown hair at his temples was beginning to gray, and the lines at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead were deepening.
Right now, there was nothing large about him.
Surprise shuttled across the King of Lasania’s face as he looked at the door. It was brief. His features soon smoothed out into the mask of impassivity he always wore when I was present. Those laughs and smiles always faded once he knew I was near.
Deep down, I think he feared me, even before I had been found unworthy.
My stepfather wasn’t alone. I realized that the moment I stepped into the office and saw the back of my stepbrother’s head. He was seated on the
settee in the center of the room, idly picking through a bowl of dates.
The room was otherwise empty.
“Sera.” The King’s tone was flat. “What are you doing here?”
No warmth or fondness. His question was a demand, not a request. In the past, that’d stung. After I was found unworthy, I felt nothing. Today, however, it sent a hot flash of rage through me. If he didn’t know why I was here, that meant he had no idea that I’d spent the last several hours watching the first guards I’d come across bury the Coupers.
“The Coupers are dead,” I announced. “Who?” my stepbrother asked.
My back stiffened. “Farmers whose lands were infected by the Rot.”
“You mean the Rot you failed to stop,” Tavius corrected, lifting a date. I ignored him. “Do you at least know who they are?”
“I know who they were,” my stepfather said, placing his pipe on a crystal tray. “I was notified of their passing no more than an hour ago. It’s most unfortunate.”
“It is more than unfortunate.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, and my eyes narrowed because I had enough sense to know better. “What they decided to do is tragic. Those children—”
“What they felt they had to do, you mean.” I crossed my arms to stop myself from picking up one of his precious figurines and throwing it. “What is tragic, is that they felt they had no other option.”
My stepfather frowned and shifted forward in his seat. “There are always other choices.”
“There should be, but when you’re watching your children—” My breath caught, and it burned through my lungs as little Mattie’s giggles echoed in my ears. “I don’t agree with what they did, but they were pushed to their breaking point.”
“If things were so bad for them, why didn’t they simply seek other employment?” Tavius tossed out as if he were the first to have thought of such a thing. “That would’ve been a far better choice.”
“What employment would they have been able to find?” I demanded. “Do you think a person can just walk into any shop or company or onto a ship and find a job? Especially when they spent their entire lives perfecting one trade?”
“Then perhaps they should’ve learned another trade the moment your
failure ruined their land,” he suggested.
“How many trades have you decided to learn and mastered to the point you could then demand a job?” I challenged.
Tavius didn’t answer.
Exactly. The only skill he’d mastered was how to be an expert ass.
“I believe what your stepbrother is attempting to say is the same as I have,” the King reasoned, placing his hands flat on the desk. “There are always choices. They chose wrong.”
“You make it sound as if they had no reason. They were already dying.
Starving to death!”
“And they chose to take their lives and those of their children instead of doing everything possible to feed them!” The King rose from his chair in a rush of plum-adorned black silk. “What would you have had me do that could have possibly altered that outcome? I have no control over the Rot. I cannot heal the land. You know that.”
I couldn’t believe he would even ask that question. “You could’ve fed them. Made sure they had food until they could grow their crops again or find employment.”
“And is he supposed to do that for every family that can no longer work their land?” Tavius asked.
Hands balling into fists, I turned to where he sat. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on the leather boot propped on the hard surface of the ottoman. He tilted his head in my direction, not a single curl spilling over his forehead. The blackened eye I’d given him had faded far too quickly. His features were perfectly pieced together. Yet all those handsome attributes were somehow wrong on Tavius’s face. “Yes,” I answered. “And not just the farmers. You should know that as the heir to the throne.”
His lips, already thin, pressed tightly together.
“It’s the harvesters who rely on the fields to feed their children. It’s the shop owners who struggle each week to buy food because the prices have increased.” I stared at him. “Do you even know why the prices have gone up?”
The tautness eased from his face. “I know why. You.” He smiled, popping a date into his mouth. I doubted that he did. “Tell me, sister. How do you think we could provide for every family?”
Disgust curdled my stomach. “We could ration. We could give them some of the food here, starting with the dates in that bowl.”
Tavius smirked and then bit down on another piece of fruit.
I turned back to the King. “There is more than enough food here, within these very walls, to feed a hundred families for a month.”
“And then what?” my stepfather asked, lifting his hands, palms up. “What do we do after a month, Sera?”
“It’s not like we’d run out of food. There are other farms—”
“That are already being pushed to their limits to make up for the lands that can no longer produce,” he cut in. “Where would we draw the line? Deciding who we feed and who we do not. As you said, it’s not only the farmers. It’s the harvesters and more. But there are others who either cannot or will not fend for themselves. Those who will come with their hands out and their mouths open. If we attempted to feed them, we’d all starve.”
I took a deep breath that did nothing to calm my temper. “I sincerely doubt anyone would choose not to fend for themselves and starve.”
The King huffed out a laugh as he sat. “You’d be surprised,” he said, picking up a ruby-encrusted chalice.
“There has to be something we can do,” I tried again.
“Well, I have an idea,” Tavius announced, and I didn’t even bother to look at him. “This rationing thing you speak of? We could start by taking the food spent on the most useless within these walls.”
“Oh, let me guess… You’re talking about me.” I looked over my shoulder at him. He arched a brow. “At least, I realize just how useless I am.” I smiled as his disappeared. “Unlike some in this room.”
The smug look vanished completely from his face, wiped away by the heat of anger. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
“There’s nothing daring about speaking the truth,” I retorted.
Tavius rose swiftly, and I faced him. “You know what the problem is with you?”
“You?” I offered, not even caring how childish it sounded.
His eyes thinned into slits. “Me? The irony would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. The problem is you. It’s always been you.”
“Tavius,” his father warned.
My stepbrother took a step toward me. “You failed that family. They’re dead because of you. Not me.”
I stiffened as his words cut through me, but I didn’t let it show as I met his stare. “Then more are going to die because of my failure unless the Crown does something. What are you going to do once you take the throne? Continue letting your people die while you sit in the castle eating dates?”
“Oh.” His laugh was harsh and grating. “I cannot wait till I take the throne.”
I snorted. “Seriously? Taking the throne would actually require you to do something other than sit around all day and drink all night.”
His nostrils flared. “One of these days, Sera. I swear.”
Something dark and oily unfurled in the center of my chest, in the same place where the warmth of my gift usually ignited. But this feeling was slick and cold, spreading through me as I stared at my stepbrother. “What? Are you implying you’re going to do something? You?” I asked. “Have you forgotten that black eye?” I smiled as his eyes narrowed. “I can easily remind you, if you have.”
He stepped forward. “You little bi—”
“That’s enough, Tavius.” My stepfather’s voice boomed, startling me so much that I jumped. “Enough,” he growled when my stepbrother tried to speak again. “Leave us, Tavius. Now.”
Stunned that my stepfather wasn’t ordering me to leave the room, I wasn’t prepared when Tavius turned back to the table. “Here, my dear sister,” he said, picking up the bowl of dates. “You can ration this among the needy.” He hurled the bowl at me.
Dates flew through the air as the hard ceramic bowl hit my arm, which I had raised to protect my face. Pain shot up my bone as I sucked in a sharp breath, and the bowl shattered on the marble tiles.
Arm burning, I started toward him. “You son of—”
“That is enough! Both of you!” The King slammed his hands on the desk. And a moment later, the doors swung open. The two Royal Guards entered, hands on their swords. “Sera, you stay right where you are. Do not take one single step toward your stepbrother. That is an order. Disobey it, and you will spend the rest of the week in your chambers. I promise that.”
Rage flashed through me like wildfire, stinging my eyes. I forced myself to stand down, even though I wanted to pick up that shattered bowl and beat Tavius over the head with it. But the King would carry through on his threat. He’d lock me in my rooms, and I…I would lose myself if he did that.
“And you, my son,” my stepfather continued. Tavius stopped, eyes widening at the thunder in the King’s voice. “I do not want to see you for the remainder of the day. If I do, it will not be a bowl you suddenly find in your face. Do you understand me?”
Tavius nodded curtly and then turned without another word, brushing past the Royal Guards. The King motioned at them, and they crept out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them.
Silence enveloped us.
And then, “Are you okay?”
His softly spoken question left me a bit bewildered as I looked down. My throbbing arm was already a bright shade of red. It would bruise. “I’m fine.” I looked at the broken bowl. “I’d be better if you hadn’t stopped me.” “I’m sure you would be, but if I hadn’t, you’d have likely seriously
injured him.”
I turned around slowly.
The King picked up his chalice and downed the contents in one gulp. “You’d make short work of your stepbrother.”
What he said shouldn’t feel like a compliment, but his words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, nonetheless.
“He will never do that again,” he added, dragging his hand over his head, and clasping the back of his neck. “That type of behavior isn’t like him. He has a temper, yes. But he normally wouldn’t do that. He’s worried.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Tavius always had a cruel streak, and my mother and stepfather were either blind to it or chose not to see it. “What does he have to worry about?”
“The same thing that plagues you,” he answered. “He just doesn’t express it as vocally as you do.”
No part of me believed that Tavius worried about the people unable to feed themselves. If anything, he worried about how it would affect him one day.
“I’m sorry you had to see what you did this morning,” he continued. Once more, I was struck silent in surprise. “I know you found them.” He leaned back, resting his hand on the arm of the chair. “No one should have to bear witness to that.”
I blinked, and it took me a moment to work past more unanticipated words. “Maybe not,” I cleared my throat. “But I…I think some do need to see to truly understand how bad it’s getting.”
“I know how bad it is, Sera. And that is without seeing it.” His gaze met mine.
I took a step toward his desk, hands clasped together. “Something has to be done.”
“It will.”
“What?” I asked, suspecting that he believed I still played a role in stopping it.
His gaze flicked to one of his many shelves and the glass trinkets on it. “We just need time.” Weariness clung to the King’s tone when he sat back in his chair. So did heaviness. “We only need to wait, and the Rot will be fixed. It will all be fixed in time.”
 |
Leaving my stepfather’s office, I had the same feeling I had when a bad nightmare lingered hours after waking, and I had to remind myself that whatever horror had found me while I slept wasn’t real.
It was an anxious sort of feeling. As I left the stairs and made my way to the banquet hall, I kept my head down, ignoring the many servants and how they ignored me. I didn’t know what the King thought would change. There needed to be action. Not patience. Not reckless hope.
Entering the banquet hall, I rubbed at my sore arm. I needed to change and then find Sir Holland. I was sure to be late for our training. I didn’t know if—
“Please.”
I stopped mid-step and turned, scanning the space. The long, wide chamber was empty, and the alcoves leading to the meeting rooms appeared empty, as well. I looked up to the second-floor mezzanine. No one stood at the stone railing.
“Please,” came the whisper again, from my left. I turned to the candlelit alcove and the closed inside door. “Please. Someone…”
Stepping into the shadowy area, I pressed a hand against the door handle and held my breath as if that would help me hear better. For a too-long second, I didn’t hear anything.
“Please,” the soft cry came again. “Help me.”
Someone was in trouble. The worst kind of thoughts entered my mind. When these rooms weren’t in use, no one checked them. All manner of
terrible things could happen in them. I thought of some of the Royal Guards and the younger, pretty servants. My blood heated with anger as I turned the knob. In the back of my mind, I thought it was strange that the door opened so easily. Heinous deeds were usually carried out behind locked doors. Still, someone could’ve fallen while cleaning one of the obnoxious chandeliers that hung from the ceiling of every chamber. One of the servants had suffered an agonizingly slow death that way a few years ago.
Stepping into the chamber lit only by a few scattered sconces, my gaze landed on the dark-haired girl kneeling beside the low table, centered between two long settees. “Are you okay?” I asked, hurrying forward.
The girl looked up, and recognition flared. It was one of the young women from the kitchens who’d been praying. She didn’t answer.
“Are you all right?” I asked again, starting to kneel when I noticed there was nary a wrinkle in her starched, white blouse. She was pale, her light blue eyes wide, but not a single strand of hair had fallen free from the bun secured at the nape of her neck, nor was her lace cap askew.
The servant’s eyes darted over my shoulder to something behind me.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I heard the thud of boots, softened by the plush carpet. The door closed…
Then I heard it lock.
The girl’s gaze shifted back to mine, and her lips trembled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Godsdamn it, this was a trap.
