Page 143 of A Sin So Pure

As we walk through the side halls of the castle, I hike up my dress, pulling free my knife from its thigh strap. And when Benevolence opens the door to an empty room, I waste no time in kicking it shut behind me. I yank him by his brown locks and press the knife to his throat.

We’re the same height, so my mouth fits perfectly against his ear to snarl my command.

“Talk.”

“Well, you went to violence quicker than I thought you would.” He winces when I dig the knife harder into his throat, pulling a trickle of blood from his veins. “Sorry, sorry. Jeeze, Elenora, they weren’t kidding when they said you were ruthless.”

“You throw my name and story around like you know me. You don’t,” I snap. Benevolence’s ribs brush against my body in short bursts; his body betrays his panic. “You’re stupid for admitting it out loud. At least before, you could feign ignorance, and I could look the other way. Now you’re a loose end I have to clean up.”

Benevolence raises his hands placatingly.

“Listen,Pride.” His brittle smile falters as he pauses, gauging my reaction to the use of my title. “We were kids when everything with our parents went down. I have no ill will towards you. In fact, I want tohelpyou.”

Part of me wants to slide the knife across his perfect skin, let the floors stain red from his blood. The idea of Patience walking in and seeing his firstborn as a lifeless husk on the ground is more alluring than I thought it would be.

But the other part of me needs to know what he knows. What theyallknow.

And needs outweigh wants.

“I will kill you. Cousin or not,” I snarl. “And I don’t need magic to do it.”

I pull the knife away and shove Benevolence forward. He stumbles a few paces but catches himself on the back of one of the armchairs in the room.

“Clearly,” he says, rubbing at his neck with a grimace.

He pulls his fingers back, sticky with blood, and searches the room for something to wipe them off on. The room is devoid of anything but a few chairs around a fireplace and walls lined with bookshelves, so he opts to wipe them on his brown britches.

Silence lingers between us.

Benevolence twitches under my intense gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally asks.

“I’m waiting for you to explain yourself.”

“Oh.” His throat bobs. “Do you want to sit and talk?”

“No.”

“I’d prefer to sit.”

“Benevolence,” I growl, taking a step towards him.

He backs up in turn, again raising his hands in front of him. He treats me like I’m a rabid dog.

He’s not wrong to.

“Fine,” he says. “Fine.” He takes a breath, then on a whisper, he says: “I want you to remove him from power.”

My eyes narrow. “Who?”

“Who do you think?” Benevolence runs a hand through his locks, tugging at them. “My father.”

“You want me to kill your father?” I deadpan.

This has got to be some kind of twisted fucking joke.

His jaw feathers as he glances away, unable to meet my eye. “Yeah.”

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