Page 86 of Six Wild Crowns

“Not at Hyde.”

That’s all that matters, Seymour supposes. She doesn’t remember him leaving her chamber, but she can imagine him striding from the palace and climbing onto his charger, the beast still exhausted from the ride east. Has he returned to High Hall, she wonders, or is he even now with another of his queens? Or maybe he is sating his anger on the people of Thawodest or Alpich. How he must have raged. How he must have prayed for her not to wake from her fever.

“Are my people unharmed?” she says.

“Don’t worry about that,” Clarice says.

Seymour tries to sit up, but her arms are still weak.

“Lie back down,” Clarice says.

“What has happened to my people? Tell me, Clarice,” Seymour says.

“You’re not strong enough…”

“Do not tell me what I am strong enough to bear.” The tremor in her voice is enough to make Clarice pause. Haltrasc growls, long and low.

“Did the king hurt anyone?” Seymour asks.

“Not the king,” Clarice says.

As if summoned by their thoughts, the latch of her chamber rattles.

“Is she awake yet?” Edward’s voice says. “Let me in, damn you.”

Clarice runs to brace the door, but they’re too slow. With a heave, Edward pushes the door open, chair and all. He looks feral. He is clutching a goblet in one hand, and the other rests on the hilt of his sword. His eyes are bloodshot, and Seymour realises with a lurch that she did not have time to drug more wine before she was taken ill. It is her fault that her brother has been rampaging through the palace.

“Brother, give me a moment, I beg you,” she says.

“She’s only just woken up,” Clarice says, standing between Edward and the bed.

“You had one job,” Edward says. “Give him an heir. Instead you run off with the whore queen andlosehis baby.”

“Don’t call her that.”

He laughs and staggers into the door frame.

“That’s what offends you?”

“What does it matter to you?” Seymour says. “You are a queen’s brother.”

“That’sallI am,” he spits. “If you’d given him a son my fortunes would be made. You could demand the king give me anything. A dukedom. A royal princess for my bride. And instead you’re just… thenothingqueen. As boring as this palace.”

“I’m not,” Seymour whispers.

Haltrasc slips from the bed and pads to Clarice’s side, barring Edward’s way. He eyes the panther, then draws his sword.

“Haltrasc, come here,” Seymour says. Haltrasc growls but does not move. Edward points the blade at the panther’s head, swaying.

“Come,” Seymour says. Slowly, Haltrasc shifts to one side. Edwardmoves swiftly, swinging his sword wildly at Clarice to make them duck out of his way.

Seymour is ready for the strike of his fist. The first blow lands on her face, pain glancing through her cheekbone. The second punches down into her stomach with all the force he can muster. This time, the discomfort is muted through the many blankets. Seymour lets herself crumple into the bed for effect – if he thinks he didn’t hurt her enough, he’ll only keep going. He points a finger at her, so close she could reach out and bite it off.

“Get him back here. Fuck him until you get pregnant again. And don’t lose it next time.”

He thrusts a letter into her chest and stalks back to the door. Clarice crouches by the fireplace, clutching Haltrasc’s growling figure.

Edward whirls round at the door. “Oh, and that whore queen you like to chase across the country?” he says. “Don’t count on the king keeping her around for much longer. You’d do best to distance us from her, understand?”

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