Page 97 of Knot What She Seems
“He didn’t want you to know.” Caran laughs humorlessly and forks his fingers through his hair. “He wanted you to have hope.” Another laugh. “But there’s no more hope. Not anymore. Teddie is getting worse and worse, and I’m…” He presses his knuckles to his mouth and bites down.
“Caran…” I reach for him, and he collapses against me instantly, all of that rigid tension from only seconds ago seeping from his body. He sobs against me, and it isn’t long until my tears join his.
My brother, my twin, my other half…is dying.
And I’m beginning to believe there’s nothing we can do to save him.
33
BRYLEE
Sunlight glittersoff the windows of my parents’ palace, the white stone walls gleaming as brightly as a fake smile. The same sort of smile I wear as I pass several gardeners running mowers and trimming hedges.
I wave at a few of the guards standing sentinel between the columns lining the massive arched entry. Well trained, the soldiers don’t even make eye contact as they pull the front doors open for me.
Hornets buzz in my stomach, stinging as I slowly walk down the empty, echoing entry hall. Bile rushes up my throat, and I have to pause near an oversized vase because I might just vomit. Better to do it on the tiles than on one of my mother’s rugs.
How do you tell someone their son might be dying?
How do you refrain from screaming at them when you think they’re to blame?
I want to yell until I’m hoarse and then collapse into a sobbing pile on the floor and have my father fix everything like he used to when I was a child.
But that’s not going to happen.
It might not even be possible.
There’s a chance they could help though. A chance they could negotiate a quick ceasefire with Nóthos. Enough time for me to find a way to get some medicine so that we don’t have to lie to people the way we lied to Harper last night. We told her that Ted had food poisoning, and I’m honestly shocked she believed us.
Of course, I don’t think she saw the medicine Caran brought. That right there is another reason I need to go to my parents. So that Caran doesn’t have to keep doing whatever he’s doing…
I wasn’t brave enough to ask, and he didn’t volunteer the information.
But if he’s that desperate, then I need to be too. And desperate times call for desperate measures. I told him I’d take care of it. And I will.
We need more medicine. Enough to actually make a difference.
My eyes squeeze shut and my face contorts as the pressure within builds. There’s a chance…but only if I don’t screw it up.
I’m always on thin ice with the queen, and if I want her to listen and actuallyhearme, if I want to win her over, then I need to be careful about what I say and how I say it.
Slow deep breaths,I coach myself.No emotion. None.
I try to summon up my courage. For inspiration, I imagine all the things that Alpha Team X has yelled at me for over the past several weeks. Ridge, in particular, is great at alphahole sayings like, “Cry me a river and then swim across it. Try not to drown.” One of his other favorites is “We don’t retreat. We reload.” Picturing his shouting face bolsters me. I think the team might have unwittingly helped me with something I’ve always needed: composure.
Omegas are typically doted on and coddled. I can name more than a few at Darling who are straight up brats when they don’t get their way. I’m even guilty of it sometimes. But at Eros, I’ve had to bite my tongue so many times I’m surprised they haven’t sent me to the nurse for stitches.
And that skill is going to serve me well today as I face down the dragon.
I stare at my reflection in a gold-framed mirror across the hall. My French braid keeps my blonde hair back the way my mother prefers, and I’m wearing a navy business dress suit that my father picked out. While the skirt is a bit stiff, it looks good. Professional.
Taking one final breath and swallowing down any remaining bile, I head for the sitting room. Mother’s butler, a sweet, balding beta named Oliver, is standing with a tablet in his hand—probably the day’s itinerary.
When he spots me, his face lights up and he gives his trademark chip-toothed smile. “Princess Brylee! So good to see you.”
“Oliver.” I nod in greeting. “I’m a little early, but I thought I could just wait—” I’m gesturing toward a small set of chairs in a sunny alcove when the door bursts open and my mother comes storming out, nostrils flaring like she’s about to spit fire.
Her steel gray hair is in a curled updo, and the black business suit she’s paired it with makes her look dangerous. But most intimidating of all is the look on her face. Her expression slams into Oliver with all the ferocity of a speeding freight train. “Get a new contingent over to Sphazo. Those bastards are on the outskirts. Where the hell have our guards been?”
