Page 83 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Kasta had confessed?“Weeks ago, when I met with him in the barn.”
“And yet you didn’t tell me?”
“She had helped him. I didn’t want to condemn her for that.”
“But when she no longer served your purpose, you blackmailed her?”
She definitely confessed. “Don’t you dare judge me for that. All my father is guilty of is wanting to save my mother. Kasta was no longer helping him—and I found a fast way to change her mind. In case you forgot what I told you when you were wrestling with demons, I love my father.”
“Over everything else apparently.”
He turned to leave but she grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”
“To get my things out of your room, before I find them out in the hallway. I’m moving back to my room.”
She tightened her grip on his arm. “There will be no moving. Look around you.”
This time he did. It was clear they were having a heated conversation and, indeed, every head had turned their way. He pulled his arm free, his gaze locked onto hers, thoughts steaming in his eyes. “You don’t even know Kierus.”
“I know my own father.”
“Open your eyes, Bristol. You know the man from the mortal world, the artist who raised you. That’s not who he is here. Here he’s a knight on a mission. I knowthatman, and I know him far better than you do. We trained and worked together for eighteen years. I know how he thinks, how he moves, and what lengths he’ll go to to get what he wants—and he wants Maire.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Yes, he was the wonder of Danu, but he’s a mortal, dammit! How do you think he got that reputation? We were best friends. How many times do you think I saved him? I was the one covering his back, time after time, keeping him alive. I was watching his back this time, too, until you interfered.”
“Are you insane? How is putting him in a pillar for a thousand years watching his back?”
“One month. That’s all I gave him, just long enough to keep him out of the way, and out of the council’s hands. To keep him from being captured again by someone else—like Kormick. Because that’s what will happen.”
A mocking laugh jumped from her chest. “One month? You expect me to buy that? Cully said from the start that it was a thousand years. My father said the same. He was already feeling hopeless. Everyone knows the sentence for Judge’s Walk. If it was truly only a month, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“The way you told me about Kasta and your father? The way you blackmailed her behind my back? The way you released a dangerous beast to add to our worries? I wish just once you would trust my judgment as Knight Commander and king.” His jaw clenched, like fury was about to explode out of his head, but he kept his words tight and low. “I didn’t tell you because I am trying to juggle a thousand details for a nation on the brink of war. Because I have to make some decisions without announcing them to the whole world. Because every eye in court is always on me, just like you said. Because . . .because I’m the fucking king. La-di-da!”
She glanced at the suddenly silent plaza, even the musicians pausing their play, straining to hear their words.
Tyghan shook his head with disgust. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, kissing her long and hard, but there was no tenderness or love in his touch. He pulled away. “There. Do you think that convinced them? I agree. Appearances matter.”
He turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 63
Her room was dark and silent when she returned, but her stomach was loud and churning. She ran for the bath chamber and dropped in front of the commode, losing her dinner in several waves. She was not prone to a weak stomach, but after Tyghan had left Sun Court, she wolfed down her piled plate of food, and her empty stomach had not been ready for it. Now it was empty again.
She fell back on the floor, weak, and wiped her clammy forehead with her palm, then felt a cold nose nudging her elbow. She opened her eyes. It was Reggie, checking on her. “I’m all right,” she said, and got to her feet, splashing her face in the basin, and brushing and gargling until her mouth was fresh again. She snapped her fingers, illuminating a single candle on the chandelier, and got into the shower, trying to wash away the day.
If anyone spots him, he’s a dead man. Fine advice from someone who imprisoned him for a thousand years. He’d rather be dead. So would she. And that was the precise point of Judge’s Walk. The horror of seeing his face pressed against the marble made her woozy again. She got out of the shower and was drying off when she heard her door slam.
Fucking appearances. He was here. She wished she had never suggested it. She quickly threw on her nightgown and wrapped her hair in a towel. Tyghan gave her a cursory glance as he entered, and she left the bath chamber. “The sofa,” she said as she passed. “Yours.”
He didn’t respond, but he crashed around the bath chamber like he was a trapped bear instead of a man. When he finally finished, he exited with only a towel around his waist and scooped her up from her side of the bed.
“What are—”
“Appearances. Your idea.” He deposited her on the sofa. “The sofa is yours.” He returned with a blanket and threw it at her.
Tyghan lay in the dark, staring at a ceiling he couldn’t see. She was awake too. He heard her rolling over on the couch and then rolling back again.
She was just as stubborn as her father. And arrogant.Smile, Your Majesty. Every eye in Sun Court is on us. Like he didn’t already know that after a lifetime of being watched. His business became everyone’s business in the blink of an eye.
He had been crazed with worry when she disappeared, searching all over the palace for her, ready to call out a whole regiment to search the skies for Pengary and pull her from his jaws—and then he found her filling a plate at the buffet tables? His momentary rush of relief had turned to rage. Rage at everything she had done.
