Page 22 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
It was a steady beat in her head.If. If only.
“I hate you because when Maire was chained to a post in her yard, you rode past without helping her. If you had only shown her the smallest bit of compassion—”
He grunted. “So she fed that story to you too? She shoved it in my face so many times I lost count.”
“And yet I don’t hear an ounce of remorse in your tone.”
“Remorse? I was barely thirteen. I was a sudden orphan and a newly crowned king. I don’t even remember seeing her. If we passed by, I was probably being schooled by a squad of tutors on my way to a kingdom that I was expected to impress.”
“Even a thirteen-year-old can hear screams,” she said.
“Through the jostle of a team of horses pulling a carriage over an uneven forest trail? You haven’t ridden in many carriages, have you? I told you, I don’t even remember her.”
So very convenient, Bristol thought. The bitterness inside her doubled. “Then what about my—what about Kierus? You weren’t a boy when he came to you asking for leave to study art. You humiliated him. You laughed him out of the throne room.”
“What difference would that make to you?”
“You asked why I hate you. Decisions have repercussions. Real people have to live with them. Yours have affected all of Elphame. If he had pursued his art—”
“Are you mad? You’re saying laughing at Kierus gave him just cause to betray Danu? I laughed him out of the throne room numerous times. He was always coming up with some new scheme. Art was just another one of his crazy—”
“My father loved his art! After his family, it was his passion! It wasn’t a scheme!”
A schism ruptured the air. Bristol’s ears echoed with the temporary silence. She realized her misstep too late.
“Your father?” Cael finally said. “Then that means—”
In her fury, she didn’t care what he thought, but in the next second, she felt something sharp at her jugular. “I knew this was a trick,” Cael whispered close to her ear.
He had either rapidly regained his strength or he wasn’t as weak as he had pretended to be—and she had fallen for it. His breath was hot against her neck, his free hand tight and strong around her waist, his broad chest snug to her back. “Now who will be throwing whom from the horse? Or maybe I should do something else—”
Cael sucked in a fast breath as he jerked Bristol tighter against him.
“I wouldn’t, Your Majesty.” Julia’s voice was slow and buttery as she lifted her veil of invisibility. “If you kill her, you’ll be killing Elphame’s last chance for survival. And if you make the slightest move, that sword you feel at your spine will immediately sever it, because this woman matters more than you do.”
Julia sat tall and regal on her horse in front of them. Sashka and Rose flanked her, just as magnificent—and deadly. Avery and Hollis materialized behind Bristol and Cael, their faces enraged, Avery poking Cael’s back with her sword, eager to carry out Julia’s threat.
“Lower it.Now,” Julia ordered again, her tone making it clear that there wouldn’t be another warning.
Cael lowered the knife and tossed it to the ground.
Sashka hissed and levitated the knife, guiding it to her hand, then shot the king a stinging glare. “Ingrate,” she said. “Last time we rescue you.”
CHAPTER 16
What are you staring at?”
Maire faced the window, stone-still, her eyes unseeing. Kormick had noticed her empty gazes more often in these last few days. What was she thinking? She never shared, but he couldn’t afford for her to fall apart at this point. She had, many times before, but he always managed to put her back together again, and she loved him for it. At least in her own way. He would remind her of her strength, her power, and, more covertly, that he had been her savior. Hewasher savior. He had saved her when no one else would.
“Nothing,” she answered. “Just looking.”
He stepped up, standing behind her, his hand on her shoulder. He looked out at the vista of Fomoria, the foreboding rocky crags, the lush forests, the wild realm he ruled, vast in its reach but limited in its offerings—at least for someone like her, who had partaken of all the sights and pleasures of the mortal world. He kissed her bare shoulder. He wanted to give her everything they both deserved—the power they had been denied. That power was within their grasp now.
“Is it a mortal lover you miss? I can bring you one. Or many.”
She stiffened under his touch, silent in her answer, but then reached up, caressing his hand on her shoulder. “I lack for nothing. I am done with mortal lovers.” She turned to face him and added, “But I think some time at my loom would do me good.”
“I’ll arrange an escort.”
