Page 88 of Of Songs and Silence

“You can punish me later.” Here’s hoping that turns out to be a lie. “But right now, you need to save Zaina.”

CHAPTERFIFTY-SIX

EINAR

Idespise this plan nearly as much as I despise myself for making it.

Though I might hate Remy the most for planting the seeds that brought it inevitably into my mind. Even now, I know that isn’t fair. All he did was raise a simple question.

Does Madame play favorites?

The rest of it had snowballed from there into a debate about how far she would take that favoritism, and how we would capitalize on that.

Though I hated the moment I looked around that table and realized I could already see the chess pieces in motion, I cannot deny that it might just give us our only real chance at victory.

At a cost we will never get back.

The plan started with Remy talking our way into the gates, then staying to be sure the soldiers didn’t turn on us. That was his price. Remaining behind rather than confront the beast he came to slay, while his wife went ahead into battle.

Then there was Aika—the consummate liar.

She was the only one of us who Ulla wouldn’t kill on sight, who could convince her to leave the most protected room in her house. Aika’s job is arguably the most dangerous, with the highest margin for error, but she didn’t so much as tremble when she left.

Even her best lies won’t be enough, though, if she can’t put Ulla off her guard. That’s where my wife came in—the beautiful, brilliant distraction.

I don’t like any part of this plan, but Zaina’s role is the part I hate myself for the most. If her price is willingly baiting the psychopath who has put his hands on her more than once before, then mine is standing back while she does it.

But this is the only way through I could see.

So I did my part, taking out the excess of guards one by one while I stood near enough to intervene in case we’re wrong about Ulla’s reaction. Or in case something delays them. I try not to think too hard about what that might be.

If we lose Aika, I know in my soul that I will lose Zaina, too, one way or the other.

A crash sounds from the direction of the balcony. I knock the guard nearest to me out with the flat side of my axe, then quickly scale the railing to the second floor.

It takes everything I have to stay out of sight when all I want to do is run my fist through the window and use the shards to remove Damian’s head from his despicable body. He is towering over Zaina, taunting her where she has taken a defensive stance against the wall. Though she has her head held high, there is real fear in her eyes.

Rage pulses through me, drowning out all of my more rational thoughts. He lunges for her, and she dodges, but it won’t be enough. At some point, he will have his hands on her.

I mentally repeat every promise I made to her not to interfere, chanting them in my head like a mantra. It’s the only thing staying my hand.

Then he grabs a fistful of her hair, using it to tug her against him, and I see red.

Just as I am about to set everything we have worked so hard for on fire in spite of all of my better judgment, the door slams open, crashing into the wall behind it.

And in the doorway, wearing the most furious expression I’ve ever seen on her, stands Ulla.

CHAPTERFIFTY-SEVEN

ZAINA

Madame is here.

Madame has come for me—to protect me, or to punish me, I can’t be sure until her hand wraps around Damian’s throat. I swallow, hard.

She has come to save me. And I have come to kill her.

I move away from the wall as she slams him against it. Madame is something feral, her lips curled up, exposing her bared teeth. She is more unhinged than I have ever seen her, and I want so badly not to recognize that any of that is on my behalf.

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