Page 68 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

The king snarled, “Then you admit to unleashing it upon us.”

“I do not. If I had thought to release a plague, then I would not have guessed how to do so, nor would I have felt right in doing so, unless gripped in madness toward a queenly end. But you distract from the important issue. Why are kings plagued with illness and no other? To me, the origin appears clear. King Bring attempted to kill an immortal. From there, what is the connection? Or does the plague on king have to do with my fate?”

“You seem to have all the answers,” said the king, circling.

“Theories, sir. I theorize as any ruler must and I cannot avoid doing so. Itheorizethat kings have lost their way, and if a queen cannot conquer them, then the world will be done with kings and monsters for good. They will be removed by ancients with plague. Therefore, I theorize that this plague is my countdown. My deadline, if you will forgive the pun.”

I perched on the torture table, and faced the princess. “The cure is not in the conquering of a queen. She is the medicine, but not as you might believe, King Raise. Here exists a precipice, a veritable sword’s edge, and one must choose which way to fall. They must choose this while knowing they cannot claw their way back up to choose again. There is one chance in this matter. Is the conquering of a queen the cure? Or is the queen herself the cure? The cure to illness and plague and warping. She is meant to rise above kings, recall. Kings will alter in their roles, as have princes. As have princesses.”

“How will kings alter?” rasped Princess Raise, earning a swift focus from her husband.

I shrugged. “I cannot say how a king’s role will alter, or what they will become to me. But you know how things have always been despite your best efforts, Princess. You know there is no unwarping to be gained from repeating the same endeavors over and over.” I took a breath. “Hope has led you this far…”

King Raise stood between us. “You speak in twisted riddles designed to convince a fragile heart!”

Fragile heart? I would no sooner call Princess Take an ignorant flower. But King Raise was a monster in love. I was beginning to detest its failings, and detest myself for detesting it too. I must be free of my love for See. I must work to see it so.

I must break my own heart if need be.I sucked in a sharp breath at the thought.

Princess Raise took his hand and pulled him upright. I loosened my stitch to allow her more strength and freedom.

She held a hand against his face. “My love, there is such tragic warping to us. Why is there such tragic warping?”

“’Tis the price of love,” he whispered.

Princess Raise said, “There is something more in it, my love, and we must figure out the whole or exist as this always.”

“I do not follow you,” he said in confused wonder. “How is that so when I am king?”

“What do you suggest?” she asked me.

I answered, “A reversal of damage. I cannot say what this might look like.”

Her gaze flickered to the table, and she blinked away sheer terror before looking at her king again. Her husband. “My love, come with me.”

“Where to, my one and only, my very breath?” He allowed himself to be led by her, and I loosened my stitch more. Princess Raise was not the danger any longer, but King Raise may choose to strike on a whim.

I stepped away from the torture table.

She said to him, “You drift from purpose. Ancients will not have it.” The princess pushed her king flat on the table.

His breath quickened. “My love?”

A fool. Truly. So blind his trust and love.

She fastened straps, and as she fastened them, I released stitches from my fingers to make the straps unbreakable, then removed the stitch around her throat last, once her king was trapped.

King Raise stared up at his wife and she held either side of his face. “You must go with her now, husband. We must fix that which was broken.”

“Nothing is broken,” he whispered. “My princess, I love you. I will love you always. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Her voice hitched. “Do not fear, my life. I am here.”

She stepped back, and as King Raise strained and thrashed against the straps covering him from forehead to ankle, I said to her, “Do you recall what I said about the warping of your union?”

Princess Raise was broken as she replied, “You asked me what I would do if the healing stole away my love or his.”

I nodded. “Your answer?”

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