Page 18 of Kiss the Filthiest King

Now, there's so much more. More desire, more craving, more possessiveness, and yes, certainly a lot more hatred, too. An intense love, flipped upon itself, twisted by betrayal and resentment.

The flight back to the keep is faster, my own strength considerably increased. When we reach the great castle nestled in the valley between the two highest mountains of the Hollow, it's alight with life and laughter and music.

Darina's still asleep in my arms. I consider my options. I should wake her. Have her walk into her castle with her head high to claim her birthright. But that insidious mix of feelings seeping in my veins likes the idea of diminishing her power, showing her vulnerability to the world.

She's oh so beautiful in sleep. Her hair's bright red right this moment, though it’s changed several times as she finds her way back to her own skin.

I stroll inside with her in my arms. The court falls silent, all laughter and chatter dying as I make my way through the first hall where they're all gathered. No one’s dared explore the castle yet, though they certainly dared help themselves to the queen's wine. The entry hall is certainly suited to a revel; why look further and risk a wayward curse?

Familiar with it, I walk past them, to the great stairway leading up to the first floor, where the queen's chambers are.

Darina barely stirs. I lift her hand to open up her private space, but to my surprise, the door unlatches and swings open before her skin comes into contact with the red wood.

Loch.

I half expect a crown upon his brow. I wouldn't have been surprised if he took hold of the first weapon he could reach and tried to plunge it into the sleeping girl I'm carrying.

And if he did, would I have stopped him or helped?

"Took you long enough."

The trickster side steps, letting me into a warm, colorful reception room.

* * *

"What's wrong with her?" I ask, my eyes curiously set on the girl bent in two on a low divan.

I can see how Darina attempted, and mostly failed, to imitate her looks in the ironside. Changelings modify their appearance to fit with their family, and thus, she had her hair and her eyes and of course her ears. But the girl is so very human. Round. More solid, and yet fragile.

"Circle travel," Valdred replies, his fingers impatiently tapping the carved side table they're lying on.

Though he accomplished the mission the queen gave him with speed and efficiency, he doesn't look victorious. Just impatient, like he has somewhere to be other than here, in the high queen's apartment, as one of the first amongst her small council.

I am confused by my many conflicting thoughts; I'm offended on her behalf, exasperated by the entire situation—and I believe both of those feelings do originate from me—and yet, so furious. At him and her, and everything. At Valdred for his lack of deference. At Loch, for not wanting to murder his sister, though that's a clear path to the throne.

Someone needs to make sense of what's happening in my head.

"Bloody mushrooms," the human groans, heaving over the bucket in her hands.

"I told you they were mischievous," Valdred drawls.

"You didn't tell me it would feel like being locked in a fucking tumble dryer!"

"What's a tumble dryer?" asks Relva, head tilted.

"Never mind any of that. Why isn't she waking?" Loch's standing over Darina, still wrapped in my arms.

I tried to set her down on her bed in the grand room right across from the reception chamber, but she clung to me, and my confused, messed-up head didn't see any other recourse than keeping her against me. Although I'm mad about it.

It seems mad is my new default setting.

It's exhausting.

"Because half a day ago, she was dead," I say flatly. "Her heart's been pierced by iron, then replaced. There's still iron coursing in her bloodstream. I gave her roots to numb the pain, and a drop of eversleep—only a single drop—so she might rest rather than scream in agony for the next hours."

"You happened to have roots and eversleep on you?" Relva muses.

I shrug, rather than point out I've had my fair share of iron wounds over the years. I keep a number of ingredients in my coat.

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