CHAPTER 75
The king, Tristan, Roman, and Harriet surrounded the queen’s bed while Rose and her mother sat in the armchairs by the fireplace. Although Queen Lenna was asleep, her breaths remained a chore. Rose’s siren felt the strain within the queen’s heart, its weak beats diminishing each hour.
It ate her alive to know there was nothing she or any healer could do. This was a condition born from the body, beyond the reach of any known tonic. And if she had learned anything from her thorough studies, magic could only cure magic.
Sitting and taking on the emotions in the room was excruciating, especially from the king. As if she needed powers to know he was dying inside, too. The mere way he peered down at his wife’s sleeping body said it all. The twinkle in his eye had been replaced with a relentless ache. Rose couldn’t shut it out, no matter how hard she tried.
A form of torture for the monster she was.
Harriet kept stealing side glances at her, either in awe of her transformation or perhaps out of suspicion. Her dark hair fell like a curtain hiding her face, her usual spark overshadowed by her mother’s condition.
And Harriet wasn’t the only one who kept an eye on her.
Tristan’s gaze continued to sweep over her, only they were not quick, nervous glances like Harriet’s. They stayed on her for minutes at a time, once for so long that Roman let a piercing glare slip through. Tristan was oblivious, too focused on Rose to notice.
Unlike the others, Roman averted his gaze. She knew it was for no other reason than being afraid he’d give himself away. He was forced to ignore the aching bond tying them together like an invisible rope, knowing if either tried to sever it, it would be as painful as losing a limb. Rose tried hard to follow his lead, but she was failing miserably, her eyes raking over him every so often.
Finally, Roman’s restraint broke as his golden eyes met hers.
Her siren stirred at the contact, wanting to get up and go to him. To wrap her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder. To comfort him while she played with his hair.
Instead, she forced herself to remain seated. Her siren’s complaints ate at her patience.
All too soon, his eyes abandoned hers.
“Have you heard no word from him?” Roman asked, breaking the room’s silence. “He should be here.”
They all knew who he was talking about—Xavier.
The king dipped his head with grave eyes. “Not a word. I’ve sent three letters and two messengers to Amernth days ago, and still nothing.”
“That shouldn’t surprise anyone in this room,” Tristan retorted coldly, crouched over in his seat. “He’s never cared about this family.”
Harriet’s eyes narrowed. “How could you say that? You know it’s not true.”
“Then why has he not responded to our letters? Why isn’t he here?” Tristan asked.
“It’s not like he ever thought he’d be permitted to return,” Harriet snipped.
Tristan met Harriet’s stubbornness head on. “He doesn’twantto return. Even now, when clemency has been declared for the sake of our mother, he’sstillchoosing not to come home.”
“Why should he? You drove him out! Both of you did,” Harriet said, glancing between him and their father. Her icy-blue eyes cut to Rose. “She’sthe only reason he was banished in the first place. But you don’t mind—you get to be king after all.”
The jab made Rose’s eyes fall to the floor.
Tristan stood fuming, ready to retaliate alongside Roman, who prepared to rise to Rose’s defense, but the king saved him from exposing himself.
“Enough!” King Henrik bellowed.
Harriet jumped at her father’s rare yell.
“Have you all forgotten your sense of propriety?” the king rebuked in a dark tone, still holding his wife’s hand. “Your mother is dying, and all you can do is bicker amongst yourselves and blame those around you.”
Harriet’s eyes fell to the bed in shame, unable to hold his chiding gaze.
Rose’s gaze retreated to the dancing flames as she traced her fingers lightly over her collarbone. Harriet was right. It was her fault. At least a good part of it. Maybe more than she cared to admit. Her chest tightened as she dropped her hand.
“It’s getting late,” Harriet said after a moment, still sulking from the retribution of her father. Her gaze fell to her mother. “We should get some sleep… It may be the last night for a while.”