Page 120 of Rook of Ruin
“No, I’m not leaving you.” I almost beg for him to understand, to give me a chance. “I didn’t—” Simon begins pulling me back into our wing. His fingers dig into my skin, and it hurts. “Simon, stop! You’re hurting me!”
He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go until we are inside. He pushes me back, and I almost lose my footing, catching his arm before I fall. Bow stands next to the door, his fists clenching, but he does not interfere.
Simon snarls, “You may have killed us all. If anyone suspects you . . .” He throws up his hands in frustration. “Why didn’t you come to me when you found out she was going to poison you? I would have told my father.”
I glance at Bow, but his eyes lower slightly, likely embarrassed to be here. As I am.
“I thought you would be pleased that I stood up to her.” I swallow.
Should I have told him? Probably. But, where is my Simon who was so proud of me for fighting? Where is the man I married not long ago? He’s changed. He’s different here.
“I am. I just need you to realize that there are consequences for murdering the queen.”
“I bloody well know that, Simon! If you would have let me finish, I would have told you! I didn’t murder her, just slightly poisoned her enough that she may have gotten very very badshits from the inkillo plant. She might havewishedshe were dead. The antidote was fucking jasmine oil and water.”
Bow sucks in his cheeks. He knew—he helped me. He is sworn to secrecy.
Simon pulls his hands down his face. “You mean to tell me that I was going to tell my father you poisoned the queen . . . to give her the shits?”
“Yes.” I raise my chin in defiance.
Simon eyes me suspiciously and says slowly, “She gave the life debt for a poison that she thought would kill her, but really, it would have given her the shits.”
“Very fucking bad shits,” I growl out, rubbing my arm.
Simon reaches for me, but I step back. Tears threaten to fall from my eyes.
“Orlaith, you don’t understand. We walk a very fine line here. Callan is not who—” Simon is interrupted by a loud banging at our door.
Bow draws his sword and opens the thick wooden door. Callan bursts through. He takes one look at my face and turns to Simon, pointing a finger. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Not your concern, Callan. Go back to your chambers.”
Callan ignores Simon. “Orlaith, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What is it that you want?” A lie that rolls off my tongue.
Callan assesses me for a moment. “Shall we all go into the study for a strong drink?” He walks past us down the hall, and we follow. Callan pours a whiskey and drinks quickly. “I assume you told Simon.” I nod, side-eying Simon, and Callan breathes out, “Well, she killed herself.”
“How?” Simon asks. We are both confused. That woman wouldn’t have taken her own life.
“I felt an odd sensation on my arm, and I knew she was planning on killing one of us.”
“One of us,” Simon says slowly, “who Orlaith loves.”
He runs up the stairs, and Callan and I follow him in surprise to the small guest room, where he opens the bathroom door then shuts it quickly.
“Fuck. Bow! Orlaith stay out.” Callan pulls me back into the hall with him.
“What is it?” I ask Simon. He ignores me, holding on to the bathroom door.
Bow enters the bedroom, giving Simon his sword, then stepping back as Simon opens the door. Bow gasps. “Feckin’ hells.”
We hear grunting and the sword hitting something fleshy before Simon walks out of the bathroom, ruby red blood dripping down the black-bladed sword, a large black snake’s head in his hands. It is twice the size of my head, with red eyes, and smells of rotting decay. A laugh escapes my lips. Welp, the queen really did want to kill me, and she killed herself in the process.
“The only person she assumed you love is yourself. You didn’t get ready in our room, and she believed we slept separately. This could have killed you. It could have killed anyone. I’m going to speak to Father. O, stay here. Bow, get Isle.”
“Would you like another drink?” Callan asks me.
