Page 147 of The Rebel and the Rose
Nodding dazedly, she held onto him, and he hoisted her up from the floor. She stood on shaking legs, and he curled his arm around her waist to keep her upright. Both struggling for air, they made for the entryway, only to meet a wall of flames. The back half of the ballroom had caved in entirely.
It was only a matter of time before the rest of the ceiling came down. If they didn’t suffocate before that. The flames lashed out, forcing them back towards the only place that wasn’t burning. Choking badly now, they had no choice but to make for the balcony.
Ducking between the bodies hanging there, Ransom swung her out onto the balcony, putting her as far from the hungry flames and raining rubble as he could. They staggered towards the stone balustrade, tipping their heads back to gasp at the clean sea air.
The sea wind rushed over them, chasing the smoke away. Ransom inhaled, filling his lungs. Far below, the last of the king’s guests spilled like rats from the palace, wailing as they scattered into the night.
Seraphine sagged against him. ‘You came back,’ she rasped. ‘I knew you’d come back.’
‘I never meant to leave you,’ he said, sliding his hands through her hair, falling into the moonlit light of her eyes. They were trapped in a nightmare, but this moment – these precious seconds – felt like a dream. ‘Forgive me, Sera.’
‘Forgiven.’ Her eyes streamed. He wiped the tears with the pads of his fingers. Her smile wobbled. ‘For an assassin, you are really good at saving my life.’
Only yours.
‘I’m afraid now we both need saving.’
She turned around, her back flush against his chest as she took in that searing wall of flames. And those four hanging bodies now burning to a crisp. They snapped and fell one by one.
‘We have to jump.’
‘We will die,’ said Ransom, with unerring certainty.
Her frown said she knew it too. She raked her hair back, tying it into a knot at the base of her neck. It occurred to him that if he jumped first, it would better her chances of survival.
‘I have an extremely reckless idea,’ she said. Darting over to the palace wall and braving the encroaching heat, she ripped down the last surviving King’s Day banner. It stretched to at least sixteen feet. Not enough to bridge the descent, but it would get them close. They went to work, securing one end of their makeshift ladder to the balustrade.
‘This is either the best idea you’ve ever had, or the worst,’ he said, sending up a silent prayer to Saint Oriel.
Let it hold. Let it work.
Seraphine tossed the banner over the side, and watched it unfurl towards the gardens. ‘If it’s the worst, at least I’ll be too dead to care.’
Ransom had wanted to go first to cushion her fall. But the banner wasn’t strong enough to guarantee two descents and the odds of survival were better for the first climber.
‘After you,’ said Seraphine, standing back.
He summoned a smirk. ‘What’s the matter, spitfire. Are you afraid of heights?’
Wrinkling her nose, she hissed, ‘Never.’ She swung her leg over the railing. Ransom held her arms, lowering her down. She wound her feet around the banner, grabbing the material with both hands.
‘Go steady,’ he said, as she slid from his grasp.
Heart pounding furiously, he was more terrified of thatdrop than the heat surging at his back. The flames were licking his ankles now. He kept the discomfort from his face, holding her gaze as she slowly lowered herself down.
‘Good, spitfire. Just like that.’
The wind picked up, tossing her about.
Voice trembling, she looked up at him. ‘How much longer?’
‘Not long now. Keep your eyes on me.’
His legs were burning.
‘Ransom?’ The banner twisted back on itself, and for a heartbeat, she lost her balance. The rope at the top was fraying.
‘Keep going, Seraphine. You’re almost there.’
