Page 142 of Shadows and Roses

She did appreciate his ass.

Chapter 39

Anais

The small chamber was crowded with rebels.

The Escorts stood behind the Queen, the rebel captains arrayed opposite. No one looked comfortable.

Pelios finished his report.

"I don’t know how much you remember. It’s clear to us that Damon… stopped acting for the people. That box—he killed a young girl and took her claws as trophies. The child wasn’t the first. To make sure they wouldn’t grow into the beasts they are, he said."

Angry murmurs were cut short by Jerrl’s glare.

Pelios continued, "We've decided. Make him walk the coals."

Anais needed to confirm. "Do you know what that means?"

Jerrl nodded once, his eyes hard. "Yes. He killed my brother. He pretends to want better but he's just like them," he spat.

"His death would convince the court of your loyalty to me," the Queen replied in a neutral tone. Damon's death would deter those few who had been swayed by his charm, but this needed to be the rebels' choice.

The captains glanced at Jerrl, who stared at the table with a clenched jaw. When he looked up, she saw the answer in his bleak eyes and the determined set of his shoulders.

"Do what you must," Jerrl said. He paused, holding her eyes for a moment beforedeclaring in a clear and loud voice, "My Queen." Jerrl fell to his knees. The other rebels followed close behind.

They still trusted her. One small blessing from this nightmare, she supposed.

"Thank you. All of you."

The rebels stood and left the room.

"Are you sure about this?" Vern murmured. "Damon has an unhealthy obsession but he is a symptom—a victim—of our world. If his mother hadn’t been assaulted, if the babe didn’t have claws, if his mother could have had the care she needed…"

"And if he were still a child, I’d forgive him. Perhaps even if he’d come to me or one of our healers—and we did offer, did we not? But he’s murderedchildren, Vern. Babies. Even the worst of the snakes don’t go that far. How do I forgive that? These werehischoices."

"They were monsters in his eyes," he sighed.

She flexed her claws. "Aren’t we all?"

Castien took her hands in his, brought them to his lips. "No. Never," he said, holding her eyes. "He wasn’t trying to make a better world. He doesn’t love his people. If he had been born with a title, he’d just be another snake. Don’t ever compare yourself to him."

Tears blurred her sight but she was fairly certain Jerome smiled slightly. She blinked rapidly and gathered herself. "He cares, Castien. That’s why I trusted him. He wants change, but…"But we failed him. She sighed.

Squeezing his hands, the Queen let go. "The nobles will want blood, and we still need their support. Damon will walk."

Castien

Damon sat against the back wall of his cell, his head tilted up at the ceiling. His gaze shifted at the sound of footfalls, his face twisting into a sneer upon recognizing his visitor.

"Ah, my friend. Are you to be my executioner? I didn’t think you had it in you."

Castien leaned against the far wall, staring at the man who had saved his life. "What happened, Damon? Why did you do this?"

Damon laughed harshly. "You were always a pampered lordling. The most beloved whore in Drantar. What would you know of hardship, of how us poor peasants live?"

"So my chains were gilded. But I never forgot you, any of you."

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