Page 100 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

We grinned at the same time.

“Even the plague could not keep me away from this.” I held up my arms as Valetise stripped away the functional suit I had worn through the grave.

As I bathed and sat to be primped and prepared, the expectation of the royal gala began to climb. Two nights and days with him. And what was he thinking right now? Did See anticipate grandness and perfection in my writhing company too?

Why had King See called this gala of monsters? I knew him enough to believe that he might cherish the unity of monsters. He had also made no secret of his heartbreaking ideas.

I had even started to see the inevitability of such heartbreak. I simply could not connect how to loosen the hold of love otherwise. Yet how could trust and respect and understanding and appreciation all survive heartbreak?

Alas, I had no better idea, but I would resist heartbreaking notions a while longer out of fear of the hold See had over me. He had been my first thought ofwhyto return from horror itself. He might undo me at any moment.

My hands shook.

The resentful mother had laughed at the notion of me fighting fate. In my fear of heartbreak, perhaps I was. What creature would rush to it, when the one they would love had stated so clearly that heartbreak was his design?

Yet I should consider what remained without a destiny with See. Loneliness. Coldness in truth. There could be no other for me, and so if I fought destiny too hard and for too long that it faded and crumbled, then that would be the end.

I feared heartbreak, but I feared a time when our hearts might not beat in tandem more.

I tried to control my shallow breaths as Valetise and Princess Take curled and coiled my hair.

This royal gala could well be the burial ground for my intact heart. I must be a fool for rushing to him and bathing for him andprimpingfor him. I must be, but that was not what I felt. I felt a certainty that this gala might be the last moments of innocence and naivety between me and See. This might be a celebration and a goodbye.

This must be perfect and more than the word.

How expectations climbed. They climbed and as they climbed, and my corset felt tighter and tighter, my chest felt more restricted.

“Are you well?” asked Valetise, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I rested mine over hers. “Valetise, tell me of matters with Picket. Please.”

Distract me, please.

She understood what I did not ask. “The concept of The Real End scares us all, my queen, though our faith in you is unswayable. Picket has realized the emptiness of an existence spent in duty and no more. He nears the completion of the queen’s picket, and there is more and more space in him for warmer thoughts of me.” She blushed the deepest of reds. “We have a plan to share coming daylight together.”

My chest filled with everything I felt for her and me. The breath was deeply happy and deeply sad at once. “I am so very grateful you have found love, Valetise.Sohappy.”

“Then why do you sound very sad?” she asked in a soft voice.

I swallowed and looked away. “Because a queen cannot love.”

I did not speak aloud of love’s weakness, nor of how the emotion consumed and colored all decisions if one dared to submit to it. Valetise would not understand, as I had not done until very ancient in connection. Even then I had resisted such knowledge, and most kings had not heeded their connections on love either. I did notwishValetise to understand the failings of love. I wished her to love, because for an exquisite wardrobe monster, love was beautiful and simple andpossible.

“A queen will feel many things that other monsters cannot dream of,” Princess Take said curtly. “She should not feel sorry for herself.”

I chuckled. “She could not in your wonderful company, Princess Take. Let us be gone.”

They departed to make their last preparations as I ambled through the lounges. Will Be and Is appeared tohelp mewhen I reached the double doors, and I was very glad not to see Has Been, such were my fragile feelings that threatened to collapse under my towering expectations of the royal gala.

Will Be struggled to breathe as he gripped my forearm to steady me.

“Are you very sick then, Will Be?” I asked.

“I am sick, my queen, but it is the sight of you that steals my breath.”

A lump rose in my throat. “My positive pawns who champion my well-being. Thank you for being the first of all my monstrous friends. I am choked with gratitude.”

A confusion rose from them. For though I was playing the part of dying queen, there was an authenticity to my sorrowful words that they could not miss.

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