Page 8 of Fearless

My heart aches at the thought of our fort. Of the sanctuary Adena and I had scavenged for ourselves in the slums. To think I’d likened it to garbage makes me sick to my stomach. Though, to the naked eye, I’m sure that’s precisely what it looked like—and why it managed to stay untouched for so many years.

Now, it likely lies empty. Cold without her warmth and dull without her brightness.

Sun and sand and her bloody, broken body in my lap suddenly flash before my eyes. I blink back the memory, forcing myself to forget thesound of her final rattling breath or the thundering feet of bloodthirsty Ilyans surrounding us in the Bowl.

“Paedyn?”

“Hmm?” My head snaps up to find a worried expression smothering Ellie’s soft features. I hadn’t even realized I’d been staring at the floor. “Sorry, yes, everything is more than satisfactory.”

Clearing my throat, I step farther into the room. After ignoring what I’m sure is an equally exquisite washroom to my left, I find something far more enticing to stride toward.

I’m standing before the balcony within a matter of seconds. It’s only after throwing Ellie a giddy smile over my shoulder that I push open the glass-paned doors and step out onto the large stretch of stone.

The crisp air combs its fingers through my hair as I take in the beauty spread beneath me. It’s breathtaking, the gardens from this height. Rows of flowers weave around the circular cobblestone paths, colors colliding at every turn. The fountain where I’d thoroughly splashed Kitt lies at the center of it all….

Kitt.

That was all he was to me during those Trials. A prince, yes, and a replica of his father in face alone. But also, my friend. A friend I betrayed. And one I thought would surely kill me for that, and so much more.

But nowheis so much more. First a friend, then a foe, and now my future.

I shudder at the thought and every implication behind it. Spinning on my heel, I head back into my—thequeen’s—chambers to find Ellie patiently awaiting my return.

Shutting the balcony doors, I lean against them with a nonchalance I don’t feel and certainly haven’t for a long while. “Where is the queen? I mean, the… dowager queen.”

I wince at the words I’ve stumbled over, but Ellie—angel that sheis—offers an answer before I have the chance to butcher an elaboration. “She was moved to the west wing of the castle. That’s where the infirmary is,” she clarifies quietly. “But even if she wasn’t ill, she wouldn’t be occupying this chamber anymore. Because, as you know, these are thequeen’srooms and…”

I brace myself against the doors. “And I am to be queen.”

“Right.” She attempts a weak smile. “And I’m honored to be your lady’s maid. That is, if you’ll have me, of course.”

I let out an exasperated laugh, and it feels good. Feels good to have my body shake with something other than pain. Make a sound other than a sob. “Ellie, if I’m truly made queen, I’ll ensure you don’t have to work another day.”

“Oh, I don’t mind the work. Keeps me busy,” she admits shyly. “Besides, I want to serve you.”

Another laugh surprises my lips, this one more biting than before. “Do you? After everything?” I take a few steps toward her. “You’ve heard the rumors. Probably even the truth.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” she says softly, avoiding my gaze.

Her answer is jarring, like a sudden wave of relief. I swallow, scared of my own question. “But why is it you don’t hate me like the rest of Ilya?”

She studies me then, letting a long, silent moment stretch between us. “The rest of Ilya doesn’t know you.”

“And you do?” I ask, a little too quickly.

“Better than most. You learn a lot about someone when you’re their maid.” Then she’s walking over to the vanity, pulling out its matching stool, and beckoning me with a pat atop the plushy fabric. “Now, come on over and let me get you cleaned up.”

I obey, stiff and unsure. Sinking into that cushioned seat feels like slipping into the past. A past where my only concerns were surviving the Trials ahead and the Ordinary blood in my veins. A simpler time, before Ijoined the Resistance and drove a sword through the corrupt king’s chest.

And this is how I’m rewarded for it. With a crown on my head and a kingdom at my throat.

“You cut your hair,” Ellie says softly, her tone inquiring. Wetting a cloth with warm water, she begins dabbing at the hardened blood speckling my skin.

She’s working on a particularly stubborn spot above my jaw as I murmur, “It was getting difficult to run for my life with it so long.”

I say this instead of the pathetic truth of it all. Because I’d rather not reminisce on the feel of blood clinging to my hair so terribly that I begged Kai to cut it off. Because I still pale at the sight of it, feel it drenching my murderous palms, fear when I’ll see it gushing from the next person I love. Though, there are very few left to choose from, and the thought is woefully relieving.

I watch her reach for a pair of thin clippers. “Would you like me to even out the ends? It’s a bit choppy—”

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