Page 96 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
Roxanne and Florence had disappeared upstairs after we had a few glasses of crimson, leaving me and Francis to this tiny, crowded room.
“Are you all right?” Francis walked in.
“Fine.” My heart banged against my rib cage with mad strength. “She won’t kill me,” I shook my head, unsure if I was trying to convince myself or Francis.
“She will not.” Francis spread out a thick woolen blanket on the floor.
My brows furrowed as I propped myself on one elbow. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to sleep.” He crooked one brow, laying down on the blanket. “We must leave the moment the sun goes down.”
“On the floor?”
Francis smirked, “Why, Princess, are you inviting me into your bed?”
I shrugged as the heat swept through me, “Unless you prefer the floor.” I crawled under the sheets, facing the wall.
An awkward silence fell upon the room: though it was loud all the same. I didn’t dare to face him.
A whole minute had passed—or perhaps it had been eternity—before Francis’ careful steps shortened the distance between us. “Thank you,” he whispered, moving the sheet aside as he laid beside me.
My treasonous body caught aflame, yet I could not pay it any attention.
A hurricane of thoughts destroyed everything in its path when my mind wandered around the daunting events of tomorrow.
“Sleep, Princess. Everything will be well,” Francis said as though reading my thoughts.
Sleep didn’t come for a long while as dozens of questions spiraled in my mind.
What would my mother say when she saw me in my new being? Would she order her guards to kill us the moment we took a step in the lodge? Or perhaps she would see reason in my proposal?
Was I inviting my friends into jeopardy, blinded by my own naivety?
Would Sandra be there to witness my end?
My legs trembled as the hunting lodge—Father, Brian, Sandra, and I used to spend a week at every summer—entered my view. Five guards assessed us from a distance before one of them disappeared behind the wooden doors—announcing our presence to the Queen no doubt. None of them bowed.
The guards took a step forward when I attempted to walk past them. “You will be invited,” he glared at me. “Disarm.”
Despite the fact I was incapable of hurting anyone within the walls of the lodge, nor could I even use a dagger properly, his order made my hands turn into fist as I handed him the only weapon I possessed.
Roxanne followed my lead, handing over her bow and a quiver filled with arrows, rolling her eyes. Florence offered a small knife from her boot I had no idea she bore.
Francis hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Disarm,” the guard repeated himself, glaring down at him.
Francis shrugged, “As you wish.” He slowly unsheathed the blade from his belt.
None of us needed weapons to protect ourselves, yet no one said that out loud.
The guard knocked on the wooden door; his eyes never left Francis.
Breathe.I ordered myself, putting on my mask of indifference.
A chill went through me as the door yanked open, welcoming us in. My heart finally escaped my chest as I stepped into the house.
Same stone walls I remembered from my childhood, same dining table right in the center of the spacious room. Same green eyes staring at me as the tears filled them.
