Page 50 of Rook of Ruin
“I wanted you to be surprised, but I couldn’t help myself.” Dimples appear, his eyes questioning.
“Oh, I’m surprised Simon.” I blow out.
“You don’t—”
“I can’t dothis.” I quickly curtsy, smile as if nothing is wrong, and strut away, leaving him on the floor. I walk to the other side of the room and down another glass of champagne.
Pale purple slinks from an alcove up to Simon. Fucking Clairene. Her pretty purple dress hugs her curves as she attempts to seduce the confused Simon. She has her sights set on him now, and nothing will stop her. He dances once around the room with her, then he bows and takes his leave, approaching me. I know I’m being childish, but I turn my backto him, walking away until I’m asked to dance by another young gentleman with sad blue eyes in a dark green jacket that has seen better days.
Ladies of the court sneer and intentionally mock his appearance, so I accept. He leads me to the floor, and very quickly, I realize he does not know the moves to this particular waltz. I don’t want to embarrass him as we dance closer to the queen, so I clear my throat and ask, “Would you rather have a drink? I’m feeling parched.”
To my surprise, he curls his lip, and a flash of steel slices through my stomach, but not deep enough to draw dark blood. He pushes me hard, and I stumble down, smacking my ass against the cold marble floor. Green light begins to emulate from the young man’s hands, and the ballroom becomes darker, colder. Ladies, probably Crows, scream out in horror from the violence and blood. I heal myself quickly and kick my feet out, causing the man to stumble backward. Where his feet once stood, the tile is cracked, as if he weighed more than he appeared to.
Scooting back slightly, I shove myself up into a sitting position. Before I can move to a stand, a sharp, burning sensation digs deep below my right shoulder. Blood flows from the wound where a dagger sits in my body.
Did he just throw a dagger into me? The fucking audacity.
I pull it out and laugh when he throws another one, missing me by a hair. Power buzzes beneath my skin while swirls of green light press out from his palms, and I scoot closer, driving the dagger into his thigh, where a punctured artery will cause him to bleed out. Ravens pull the queen into a hidden door, blocking her with their bodies. Guards charge, weapons drawn, until a head weeping black blood drops at my feet. The man’s sad blue eyes stare back.
Baron Kyre calmly checks my body over in a concerned, fatherly way. Black blood soaks his clothes and the floor. He holds out his hand and pulls me up. “The Ruby indeed. My lady, you may want to heal yourself.” He grins, almost seeming proud of me. “Not many can withstand Death’s embrace from a Wraith.” He tilts his head.
“Death’s embrace?”
“The light—even fewer can see the power they wield.”
“The power,” I murmur, staring at the head.The light he wielded.My mind quickly goes to my brace and then to my book of fae. “That man looked nothing like what I’ve heard of Wraiths. They’re supposed to be creepy ghosts.” Not a man with a head . . . or now lack thereof. My words stumble out. “Others can’t see their light? The green light from his palms?”
“No. Unless you have power.” He gazes at me. “And Wraiths are complicated creatures. They have become bolder recently.”
Obviously.
There’s another scream, and someone faints while guards surround us. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and red blood gushes as my brace pulls my skin back together. People are shoving past Clairene, who is clutching Simon for dear life as he tries to gently peel her body off his. Feeling too enclosed and exposed, I drop the dagger as if it’s on fire.
“Thank you, Baron. I am truly honored to have met you.”
He smiles warmly as men and women surround us, curious for gossip. They congratulate the Baron on a job well done, and a few ask if I’m alright, the apparent damsel in distress. I puff out anger. Did they not just see the dagger I put into the assassin’s body? I didn’t cower. I acted. Moving through the crowd, ignoring everyone, I swipe two glasses of champagne, slamming one down as I leave the ballroom and sipping the other as I move through the foyer.
“O! O! Are you alright?” Simon yells after me. I ignore him too, heading upstairs. Simon takes the stairs two at a time, meeting me at the top as we move down the hall. “O, look at me.” I turn and plaster a fake smile on my face, sipping my bubbly wine. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Simon. Thank you for your concern. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” I move away from his concerned eyes, and out of sheer spite, I add, “With Clairene.”
“Is that what you’re upset about?” Simon looks impatient. “I would think, as a Rook, you could see the difference between playing the game and actually caring for someone.”
“Well I’m not atrueRook, and I don’t give a fuck about the game. I’m tired of the game. I’m tired of omissions, half truths, and lies.”
Simon regards me. He’s smart; he knows there is more to this. “Tell me, please.”
“Fuck off, Simon,” I sneer. “Sorry. Fuck off, Prince Caddel.” My mouth drips with poison as I give him an evil grin.
Simon’s face turns crimson. I wait for him to yell at me, to hurl insults, to demand something from me. But he doesn’t. We stare at each other, daring the other to make the first move and show weakness.
“So, this is our first fight,” he says forcibly, remaining calm.
I bitterly laugh and leave him. It’s only when I’m almost to my room, contemplating what happened in the ballroom, that I realize the Baron knows my power. The queen wouldn’t have told him . . . How does he know?
“The Ruby indeed. You may want to heal yourself.”And I did, right in front of him.
Nora’s alarmed face greets me. She takes in the blood and the rip in my dress and watches as I lazily toss my heeled shoes. For a moment, her hazel eyes show rage, but it’s gone within an instant.
