Page 36 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
“Thank you for gathering here today to join us in celebrating the future union…” My mind goes numb as my father speaks. His words dissolve into a steadily growing hum, a ringing in my ears. The sound of my teeth clacking rattles my brain, followed by the taste of blood. A swift burning races across the nail bed of my left index finger. I hadn’t even noticed I’d begun biting my nails. The cuticle is rough, torn. I bite at it again, pulling the loose skin, working to smooth it out, make it perfect. More blood pools. The metallic tang tastes like freedom and control. Because that’s the only thing I have control over. My body. The ability to deliver it pain, to unmake it, to ruin it for anyone else. Destroy it.
Every muscle in my body tenses when Ebenest takes my hand, pulling it away from my mouth and pressing it firmly to my lap. It’s the first time he’s touched me since arriving. It won’t be the last. His large, weathered hand grips mine. I’m sure he can feel how cold and clammy it is. Blood runs off the mangled fingernail, staining my puffy pink dress.
“And now a toast.” My father’s voice booms until it’s distorted once more.
A golden chalice is given first to Ebenest. A second ornate cup is placed in my free hand. The dark liquid smells of sweet cherries, star anise, and the strong twang of alcohol. My father raises his glass. The crowd follows. My body mirrors Ebenest’s as we raise our glasses.
The chalice is cold against my lips. I tilt my glass, but keep my mouth pressed tight. I’m not drinking to this arrangement. There’s a sharp stinging where the liquid splashes against my lips. I quickly pull it away from my face. In the same moment I lower my chalice, Ebenest drops his. The heavy metal hits the dais with a reverberating clang.
A collective gasp rises from the crowd of noble onlookers. Ebenest’s grip on my hand tightens. I whip my head toward him. The King of Honenbrie’s eyes have grown wide, the pupils doubling in size. An ever-deepening blue steals the last bit of pink from his lips.
Terror and confusion pound through my veins as he starts to convulse; his hand squeezes mine tighter. A whimper of pain squeaks out of me as my knuckles become crushed. I blink up at his now-bulging eyes. The last remnants of whites are stained red.What is happening?
Thin ropes of crimson drip down from his nose and ears. His body tremors, every muscle going rigid as foam pours from between his blue lips. His violent thrashing wrenches him from his throne. He falls to the floor, his hold on me never slipping. I’m jerked from my seat and sent splaying onto the floor next to him. I scream, jerking my hand back as hard as I can.I can’t break loose. He’s going to break my fingers.
Gestin’s familiar form drops down beside him. His gloved fingers wedge beneath my palm, working between my hand and Ebenest’s until there’s enough room to pull free. I draw my hand to my chest, allowing him to help me to my feet and back away.
Blood is pouring from Ebenest’s nose, eyes, ears, mouth. A wet gurgling cry fills the Great Hall.He’s dying. His blood-filled mouth opens and releases an anguished scream. He chokes once more, and then falls still. The pool of blood leaking from his every orifice collects on the floor beneath him, framing his body in a quickly spreading sea of crimson.
Gestin bends to check the body. His face is grim as he pulls his hand away from the king’s neck. “He’s dead.”
Those two words send a wave of mass hysteria speeding through the vast room. Screams ring my ears as people panic, racing in all directions. I follow suit, darting off the dais and into the frenzied mob.
“Princess Lenore!” voices call after me. I claw my way through the rough throng of bodies. I need to get out of here. There are guards and people pushing and shoving, fighting their way out as they’re funneled into the hallway. I’m small enough to go undetected as I slip down a side corridor. The second tapestry on the left shows a gallant knight on horseback. He holds the severed red head of a fearsome dragon. Slipping my finger behind the bottom edge, I locate the hidden doorknob and crack the passage open.
The enormity of my dress forces me to work to squeeze through the opening.I’m burning this fucking dress the second I get the chance. There are dozens of secret passages throughout the castle. Thanks to Melly’s research, I know where most of them are.
The chaos of the crowd silences as the passage slams shut. The corridor before me is pitch black. I stretch my arms out, shuffling through the darkness as my mind reels from what just took place.
Someone killed Ebenest. Someone poisoned him. Searing pain has my fingertips landing on my lips. My skin has peeled away in several places. Was that from the wine? Fear shoves its way between my ribs and crushes my heart in a vise.Poison. In both cups? I didn’t drink the wine. Would I be dead on the floor right now if I had?
Oh my god. Oh my god.Oh my god.
Who? Why? Where the fuck are they now?
My left foot slams into a stone step, signaling the first exit option from this passage. It leads to a closet in the back of the kitchen. I could sneak out and grab a knife. No. The staff have been preparing food for a swarm of hungry guests all night. The kitchens will be a flurry of activity. I continue on, shuffling down the passage with my right hand sliding across the wall. There’san exit to the courtyards somewhere. I just need to find the stone archway?—
My knuckles scrape against rough stone. Here it is. This hidden door is much heavier. I have to dig my fingertips into the slight crack and wrench the hunk of stone free. It releases a creaking groan as it swings inward. I go still, listening to the sounds on the other side. It’s quiet. Peeking my head out, I take in my surroundings. There’s not a guard in sight. They’ve all likely been stationed within the castle walls or outside its main entrances. The air is brisk as I pull the door shut behind me. Spring has been visiting us during the days but winter still holds her sway at night.
Cool, crisp air fills my flustered lungs. The castle was far too stuffy. Fear clogged my senses in there. Outside, I can breathe again. I slip as quietly as I can toward my training area. My damned heels click along the stones with every step. I stop, using a precious few seconds to slip them off. The relief of freeing my swollen feet from their confinement is nearly orgasmic. The stones are chilly beneath my bare soles but the heat from the sudden swelling now that my feet are no longer stuffed in my shoes keeps my toes toasty warm.
There’s a small nook in the far left corner that houses my training swords. I slip my hand into the shadowy spot, feeling around for my favorite. The slender sword has a blade that’s half the normal length but twice as wickedly sharp. Its smaller stature allows me to handle it more easily.
My palm wraps around the grip. The familiarity of the hilt brings me some sense of comfort. I dart across the courtyard, my bare feet allowing me much more stealth. My bone garden is too far away. Going there risks me being discovered by the sentries stationed outside the west entrance. There’s only one place I can go where I’m sure not to be followed.
The gargantuan green walls of the labyrinth rise up before me and relief floods my veins. I know the ins and outs of this mysterious feature. I’ll hide in here for a few hours until the situation inside dies down. Perhaps by morning they’ll have found the assassin. The word fills me with fresh panic. That’s surely what happened. Ebenest was assassinated. And I was nearly killed too.
The waxy leaves of the inner walls brush against my bare shoulders as I hurry toward the heart of the maze. There’s a small stone bench there that sits beneath an ornate overhang. I’ve been squirreling away books and treats there for years. It’s one of my refuges.
I stick close to the walls, knowing the blind spots of the sentries atop the labyrinth’s edge. They won’t see me unless I call out to them and expose my location. Creeping forward, I approach the overhang. It’s quiet in here. Good. I need the quiet to process what just happened.
“Tsk, tsk, Roseheart. Running off, unprotected, when there’s a murderer on the loose.”
I whip around, sword raised in front of me. Harrow doesn’t even flinch as the tip of my blade meets the front of his chest plate. “What are you doing here?”
Beneath the light of the moon, he looks even more ethereal than usual, as if he were conjured straight from the moonbeams. Harrow cocks his head. “Checking in on my little raven. There’s been quite the commotion. A dreadfully wicked toast. And from what I hear, your betrothed didn’t fare so well.” He grins, and chills spill across my skin.
“Did you kill him?”
