Page 53 of Love and Death
“The fact that he has not done anything since you brought her father here, and even now, with Hazel here as well, nothing … I half expected the palace to be in an uproar at this point.”
She’s right. I hadn’t even considered what it must have taken for Cerberus to bring Father all the way back here. It would be silly to think no one saw or heard anything, but why didn’t they stop him?
My stomach twists sickeningly as Florence pops into my mind. She still has yet to return from her search; what if she’s the reason no one has cared to come?
Maybe something terrible has happened that we are not yet aware of.
“Florence,” I start, surprised by the steadiness of my voice, “she may be in danger.”
“How so?”
“I asked her to search the palace for my father and Death’s body,” I say, looking up at Cerberus with marked defiance, only to find his own expression to be one of concern.
“Why did you not tell me this? How long was she gone before I returned?”
“All night.” The fight in me dies as dismay flashes within his eyes, despite his now stoney expression. I’d expected him to lash out, to chide me for my foolishness, but somehow this is far worse.
Guilt pits in my stomach as Cerberus straightens, a look of determination settling on his features.
“Persephone—”
“Go,” she says. “I can handle things here for the time being. The girl will be safe.”
Cerberus wavers, glancing uncertainly between us. Of course, I would rather him not leave me alone here with the queen, but not at the risk of Florence coming to harm.
“She’s right. Go, before it’s too late,” I say, and he nods once.
Persephone motions for him to follow as she turns to make her way back across the mire, an entirely new path gradually appearing before her this time.
I suppose it only makes sense that she would safeguard her room with a different way in and out. I carefully study her movements, willing my mind to memorize the way back, until I can barely see them through the fog.
Just in case.
It isn’t until they reach the doors to Persephone’schambers that I finally turn my attention back to my father.
Worry shapes my brow as my gaze travels over him once again, taking in the faint flutter of his breaths, the bruises blooming across blood-spattered features, and the deadly pallor of his skin as his veins strain against it.
I tilt my head slightly to one side at this last thought.
Maybe Cerberus was right. Maybe, justmaybe, whatever remains of Father is still putting up a fight and just needs a little encouragement.
“Father,” I start, my mouth too dry as I inch closer, “Father, it’s me. It’s Hazel, your daughter. I’m here.”
He does not respond.
Refusing to give up, I continue, the words suddenly spilling from me, “Please, stay. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If only I’d obeyed. If only I hadn’t gone against Merelda, none of this would have happened. I was a fool to think that I could defy fate. I tried to save you, but I see now that I have only made things far worse. Please … please, forgive me.”
I reach out to touch his hand, desperate for him to know that I’m here. That he’s not alone in what may be his final moments.
“Father,” I breathe, choking on the word as my hand finally finds his.
It’s bitterly cold, not entirely lifeless, but close. I squeeze his hand, willing warmth back into it. For a second, I imagine that his finger twitches against mine, and I can only hope that he is reliving a far kinder time in our lives.
Leaning forward, I cup the side of his face with my other hand, tenderly stroking him with my thumb.
“Don’t worry, Father,” I whisper, bending forward to press my forehead to his, hot tears dripping from my cheeks to dapple the dried bloodstains upon his own. “I’m here. I found you.”
Closing my eyes, I place a soft kiss upon the grief-stained canvas of his face.
