Page 36 of A Court of Masks and Roses
“I want to stand with my True Family,” Violet said quickly, that dark, lonely void threatening to return for her. “I don’t wish to be the Dark God’s pawn.”
Joshua nodded gravely. “Then I ask you again, should you channel your energy into understanding the Goddess’s message or arguing against it?”
“Understanding it,” Violet whispered, lowering her head. As soon as the words left Violet’s mouth, she felt Dasha’s hand close over hers.
“It’s all right, sister,” said Dasha as others nodded in agreement, reaching out with sympathetic touches and encouraging smiles. “We all were confused once. But now we’ve come to understand. As will you.”
Violet swallowed.
“Can you answer your own question, Violet?” Joshua asked gently.
Violet searched her mind, struggling like a drowning manlooking for shore. She had to come up with something. Anything. “Maybe... maybe the Goddess wanted to remind us of the truth as kindly as she could? And to encourage the Everett delegation to return to their own borders without provoking an all-out assault before we are ready?”
Joshua’s triumphant smile loosened a knot in Violet’s heart. “So you can see the truth, if you try,” he said with a nod. “Keep at it.”
“We do this together, sister,” added Zalia. “Your True Family will stay with you every step of the way.”
“Tell us what the world will be like when the Goddess triumphs,” Dasha begged of Joshua.
The man smiled. “We will live in peace, as will our children, who shall be born healthy and strong with the Goddess’s love in their hearts. There will be neither pain nor sorrow. Instead of war and hate, those who quarrel shall ask the Goddess for guidance and justice, which she will give with compassion through her disciples. Through you.”Joshua paused to shift into a more comfortable position. “Now close your eyes and listen to how it shall be.”
20
KALI
Ihave little more to say to Trace, not after his training-yard declarations. From the sulky silence with which Trace now tolerates Kal’s presence on Prince Wil’s guard duty, it seems Trace is of a similar mind. Since we aren’t speaking, I feel no need to ask Trace why he goes out to sweep the wilderness every evening. Nor do I feel obligated to tell him that Princess Raza waits for him every night on the opposite side of the palace grounds.
“If I didn’t know better,” Luca drawls three days into our new wordless routine, “I’d say you two are quarreling over a girl. And that she probably isn’t worth the headache.” The man divides a sardonic look between Trace and me.
Trace snorts, following quietly in Wil’s wake as the prince strides past the stables, the mess hall, and the rest of his usual haunts for the third time since we started the outing an hour ago. A wind that’s chilly for Delta ruffles the grass, the blades bending beneath its force. It’s unusual for Wil to meanderabout, but today he seems in no more mood for conversation than Trace is.
I glance at Luca. “How do you know we aren’t?”
Luca tips his head back and laughs. “Because the only girl who would be interested in both of you is a whore, and she’d have found a way to make coin long ago.” He nudges Wil’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?”
Wil nods absently, his eyes on the ground as he turns our procession to skirt around the palace.
Luca frowns. “Where are we going exactly?”
Wil’s eyes trail the ground. “It’s just around the corner now,” he says, his face pale and his fingers gripping the sides of his long, formal coat in a white-knuckle hold.
“Aroundthatcorner?” Luca’s brows climb. “But those are...”
“The dungeons,” Wil mutters in affirmation.
“Why under the bloody stars do you want to go to the dungeons?” I ask. After the evening at the Wandering Dog, I’m little worried about propriety, and Wil seems to be taking the directness in stride. Unlike Trace, who tightens his jaw at the familiarity. Because pawing a foreign princess is exponentially better than speaking plainly to your own prince.
“‘Want’ isn’t the word I’d choose,” Wil says with a sigh. “The prisoner who attacked Princess Raza is awake. My father has charged me with his...” He fumbles, shaking his head like a dog. “Interview.”
I exchange a glance with Luca. I’m all for a bit of responsibility, but this?
“In that case, feel free to take another turn around the palace,” Luca mutters. “Or five more.”
Wil gives Luca a ghost of a smile and, squaring his shoulders, heads for a heavy door at the base of the round tower. A row of lanterns thoughtfully hangs on hooks outsidethe entrance and we each take a light before going inside. It takes Trace two tries to light his.
Many of the scars I’ve seen on his flesh are the kind you get in a place like this, not a field of battle. I wonder how many nightmares this walk down the stairs will cost him.
The yellow light cocoons our small group in imagined warmth as we make our way down the spiraling steps into the belly of the underground. The stench greets us before the sight, a putrid mix of shit and vomit, urine and blood, terror and agony. A pleading scream rips through the air and Wil stumbles, bracing his hand against the wall for balance.
