Page 32 of The Empty Throne

Movement caught the edge of Kite's vision,and he turned his head slightly to see Hargden crouch down in frontof them. He smiled faintly and offered a steaming mug, setting theother one close to the fire so it would stay warm until Lysa coulddrink it. "Thank you."

"Always a pleasure, Your Highness. We'll getthe beds made up and then you can move him." He chuckled. "Thoughit looks to me like he doesn't want to be moved."

"He would if he was awake," Kite muttered,which just made Hargden laugh harder for some reason.

One arm wrapped around Lysa still, hisbreaths warm and soft against Kite's neck, he sipped his tea withthe other, grateful for the edge it took off his exhaustion.

The distraction it gave him from being backin this nightmare place. He would never understand why His Majestyhad not ordered Bittersea hunted down and killed. Then again,people had tried to do precisely that all on their own, and to dateonly two had survived the encounter and only because Bittersea hadallowed them to. So maybe His Majesty had the right idea. Who thefuck even knew with that snaky bastard.

When he'd finished his tea and Lysa's, whoclearly would not be drinking it anytime soon, Kite slowly andcarefully shifted, until he could scoop Lysa into his arms.Standing, he carried Lysa over to the bed waiting for him, tuckedinto a corner where he would be out of immediate harm and easilyprotected.

Throughout, Lysa did not stir once, except tomurmur a soft, sad 'please don't…' before going quiet again.Pulling up the blankets, Kite reached out reflexively to brush astrand of hair from his face.

Catching himself, he drew back with a softlymuttered curse. What was wrong with him, acting so familiar with aman who might not hate him, but certainly didn't like him. Lysamight not be the enemy, but his father most definitely was, andKite was Regent. The politics at play here would give a god aheadache. He most definitely should not be treating Lysa like a… alittle brother, or whatever he was trying to do.

Stifling a sigh, he rose and went to his ownbed, stripping out of his clothes and changing into relativelyclean ones before settling beneath the blankets. He'd surrender theentire fucking kingdom for a soft, warm bed, but luxuries wouldjust have to be his reward when this was over.

He fell into a restless sleep but woke afteronly what seemed to be a couple of hours, the howling of the windworse than ever. Were they going to be snowed in? That would be thefinal touch this mad quest needed.

Scrubbing at his face, Kite crawled out ofbed and rose to go in search of a place to piss. He waved off theguard on watch who started to stand to escort him. "Who's going toget us out here? Ghosts? I'd like to see them try."

Anyway, if there had been ghosts, Bitterseawould have tortured and destroyed them too. Nobody had ever accusedthe bastard of being unthorough.

Once he'd found the washroom and relievedhimself, splashed some cool water on his face to wake himself up abit more since he clearly wouldn't be going back to sleep, Kitewandered the main hall instead of returning to the library.

It had been this dark and quiet last time,but now everything smelled of dust instead of blood and rottingflesh.

At the base of the enormous, curvingstaircase he stared at where the first body he'd found had lain.She'd been a child, a little girl in a pink and teal gown, ribbonsin her curly hair. Well, one ribbon, only barely hanging on. Theother had been lost in the fall, that side of her head caved inwhere it had slammed into a pillar with enough force to kill agrown man, never mind a child.

Footsteps drew his attention. Kite turned—andscowled. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

"I'm fine," Lysa said, mouth setting intothat mutinous line that Kite already knew well. "I want to stretchmy legs, ease some of the stiffness and soreness. The guards saidyou were out here, and as long as I stayed close to you it wasfine. What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." At Lysa's derisive snort, Kiterolled his eyes and said, "This is where I found one of thebodies."

"The bodies? So all those rumors about JethueBittersea…"

"I don't know what the rumors are, but he didslaughter his entire family, yes. I was the one that found… whatwas left of them." Kite shuddered at the memory. "It was not apleasant sight."

"What happened?" Lysa asked softly. "Unlessrecounting it would be too hard for you. I know a bit abouthaunting memories." He laughed sourly, shivering slightly.

Kite drew him in, draping his cloak aroundboth of them, trying not to notice that beneath the layers of sweatand grime from days of hard travel, Lysa smelled faintly sweet. Whywas he noticing such a thing? Whatever. Nevermind. "I've had torecount it numerous times, to His Majesty, the council, in officialreports…

"I was sent here to see why Kuluris had beensilent for so long. Why not a single one of them were responding tomissives. Even messengers could not get into the house. His Majestyfinally sent me to deal with the matter. The whole manor smelled ofrotting flesh. It was vile. Even now, all these years later, Iremember that stench." He grimaced. "I found the daughter first.She was young, maybe eight, not more than ten. Her head had beensmashed. I think she was pushed down the stairs, slammed into oneof the columns, and that was that. I don't know if Bittersea killedher first, last, somewhere in the middle…

"The others, he wasn't nearly so kind to. Ifound the mother in her sitting room, her throat slit. Bittersea'solder brother was in the ballroom, where he'd been practicing hisswordsmanship, I think. He had so many stab wounds I couldn't countthem all. Three servants were dead in the kitchen. He attackedthem, pinned their hands to the counters with knives, then slittheir bellies so they died while watching their own organs spillout."

"Gods," Lysa said, the words barely more thana whisper.

"He killed his aunt in her bedroom, anotherslit throat. The uncles were stabbed much like the brother, thoughthey were stabbed in the face. The worst, though, was the father.He'd been tied down to his desk and tortured for hours. Every timehe was close to death, Bittersea brought him back and startedagain."

Lysa frowned. "Brought him back? What do youmean? Like necromancy?"

Kite grimaced at the idea. "No, thank Shatar.Did you not know? Bittersea has healing magic."

Lysa's jaw dropped, eyes going as big ascarriage wheels. "Bittersea. My father's pet assassin. Theone with more knives than god. Who laughs as he watches peoplebleed to death. Hashealing magic. Which fucked up deitymadethatdecision?"

"Whichever one favors chaos," Kite said witha sigh. "Most people don't know but given how well Bittersea andyour father get along, I just assumed you did."

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