Page 101 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“Enough!” I freed myself of his grasp, mounting Annabelle. “I understand you are angry, but you have no right to be cruel to me! Not right now.”
“I am not angry with you, Cordelia.” Francis reached for my hand, soothing the back of my palm as to reassure me of the sincerity of his words. “I am angry at the fact that you keep putting yourself in such danger.”
I took a deep breath, meeting his eyes. Now was not the time to fight. “We should go,” I sighed. “The sun will rise soon.”
Dawn crept in when we reached the small meadow behind the cemetery. The forest slowly awoke; the early morning birds quieted around us as though not wishing to miss the disarray that was about to fall upon the meadow. Francis’ hand fell onto the small of my back when we abandoned the safety of the dense spruce trees.
The man stood in the center of the clearing; a sneer spread across his face. “I see you brought your new lover with you,Your Highness,” Timothy’s voice carried, a note of fear shone through his words despite how hard he tried to hide it. “I thought I was clear about coming alone, or you still can’t follow the simplest directions?” He flashed his teeth. “Perhaps he can join us, I don’t mind,” Timothy shrugged, taking one step forward.
“What do you want?” I spat out, glaring into the eyes I once loved.
“How disrespectful...” Timothy shook his head. “I thought you were adamant we refer to each other by our proper titles,” he tsked. “Or how does that work exactly?” His brows furrowed when he pointed at me. “Do you still carry your title? Or perhaps I am finally above you?”
“What in the hell do you want?” I raised my voice, my hands turned into fists.
Timothy’s laugh spread through the forest when he said, “Never in twenty years have I thought I would hear you speak such language.” A gruesome smile tugged on his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?” He crooked his head. “I want the bite. I will exchange it for Sandra.”
A chill swept through me from my sister’s name on his lips.
“You see, your sister went mad after yourdisappearance,” Timothy scoffed. “Never thought I would say this, but fucking you was more plesant.”
My stomach turned inside out as the unwelcome nausea made its way up my throat.
Francis’ body tensed beside me before he took two furious steps toward the man. Grabbing him by his collar, Francis put a dagger against his neck. “I have a better idea,” he said, smirking as he moved the dagger to Timothy’s abdomen. “How about I turn you into an eunuch before I behead you?”
Timothy returned the smile as he unleashed a dagger of his own. “Are you even capable of it, orphan boy?” The blade reflected the shimmering white snow; the handle wore a Royal mark.
Royal steel.
My breathing hilted, depriving me of any logical thought. I had seen Francis behead two guards with one swing of his weapon, yet the fright squeezed my throat shut.
“Would you like to see?” Francis replied with a sweet smile on his face, cutting the first layer of Timothy’s clothes.
Timothy returned the gesture, pressing his royal dagger against Francis’ chest.
“Stop!” I yelled as my legs carried me towards the men.
“Do listen to your spoiled sweetheart,” Timothy murmured.
In a blink of an eye Francis spun out of the threat, putting himself against Timothy’s back; his fingers wrapped around the Royal dagger, knocking it from Timothy’s grasp.
Fright settled in the man’s eyes as he was shoved onto his knees. Timothy twisted in Francis’ grasp, desperate to free himself from the vulnerable position, just when Francis got a hold of his hair.
“Beg for Cordelia’s forgiveness.” Francis jerked Timothy’s head upward; the Royal blade now met the neck of a man for whom I wished nothing but a dreadful end.
“I—” Timothy’s face cringed when Francis pushed on the blade. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled through his trembling lips.
The blade pressed deeper into his skin, spilling a few drops of crimson onto Timothy’s tunic—
“Don’t,” my voice, as sharp as the tip of the dagger, carried through the meadow as I took a step forward. “Release him,” I ordered Francis without sparing him a glance; my menacing glare burned into Timothy’s eyes.
The blade left his uncovered skin in an instant; short-lived relief sparkled in Timothy’s eyes as he stumbled onto his feet.
“No other soul shall ever be harmed by you,” my voice sliced through the air as my hands grasped onto Timothy’s tunic, yanking him forward until my teeth met his flesh.
My teeth cut through the skin on his neck, cut through his veins. I locked my jaw shut as his satisfying bellow reached my ears.
My mind swam in the delightful sound of his agony; my throat welcomed the warmth of his blood despite the bitter taste that tingled my tongue.
