Page 67 of The Rook

The royal was dead.

She froze like that—on her knees, with the prince in her arms—for what felt like an eternity, though she knew that wasn’t possible. The world slowed until it resembled a watercolor painting. A dull roar echoed in her ears, but she didn’t move, slowly rocking the crown prince. She’d never liked the boy, but that didn’t mean she wished him dead. The fear in his eyes before death took him would never leave her mind.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched. A dagger found its way into her hand, and a foot soldier held up his hands. He was barely more than a boy. What was a boy doing on the crown prince’s protection detail?

“My lady,” he said, his voice wavering. “You are hurt.”

Tempest dully looked down at herself. She was covered in gore. Wounds on her arms and shoulders sluggishly leaked blood. She couldn’t feel them, whether it was from the shock or the cold, she didn’t know. At some point, the sun had come up. Tempest blinked slowly and scanned the battlefield, illuminated by the morning sun.

It was a massacre.

Her gut clenched, and she twisted, violently throwing up. Tears sprung to her eyes as she heaved. Her body shook as she straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.

“Let us treat your wounds,” the soldier said, holding out a hand to help her up.

Tempest shook her head and held onto the prince tightly. “I can’t leave him.”

“Tempest.”

She vaguely recognized the voice. It belonged to one of thebattalion commanders—she remembered sparring him once, when she was younger.

The commander gazed impassively at the young prince and then nodded at her. “If your wounds are not treated, they’ll become infected. Let us see to the prince and you to your injuries, then you can accompany us back to the capital.”

Her fingers crushed the prince’s icy, velvet cloak. What the man said made sense, but she couldn’t get her body to do what he asked. She gazed back at the prince’s face and closed his eyes. One finger at a time, she released his body and laid him gently against the snow. It took all her strength to stand and stay on her feet. The commander eyed her and held out a hand toward what remained of his battalion.

“You will find a healer among them as well as a horse for our journey.”

She didn’t smile or nod. It was a miracle she was able to put one foot in front of the other. The masquerade seemed like ages prior, but, in reality, only a few hours had passed.

And with them so many lives.

Her numbness hardened into an icy rage. The Jester had known this was going to happen. Their last conversation hung heavy in her mind. She would not go back to him—not after what he said. Not after the vile attack she had been thrust into.

You gave him the information.

Tempest brushed the thought away. The men of her world were determined to bring hell upon them. She’d have to save them on her own.

“You can do this.” One tear tracked down her cheek. “Youhaveto.”

THIRTY

Tempest

King Destin did not cry when the lifeless body of his eldest son was placed before him in the announcements room. There was an emptiness in his eyes.

At first, Tempest thought it was grief, but then she reminded herself who she was looking at, and she peered harder. The lack of sadness and true shock wasn’t surprising. Her expression didn’t change as she concluded that he really didn’t feel anything. He’d have to do better than that to fool his people. Tempest’s uncles, by contrast, who lined the back wall with the rest of the Hounds, looked far more upset than their sovereign, all dressed in morose black, their shades of blue hair shining brightly against the mass of darkness.

On the journey back to the capital, she’d come to one conclusion.

The crown prince should have had more Hounds in his protection detail. The royal had been woefully exposed. Destinwas a master tactician, and there was only one explanation: the king hadwantedhis son to die. How did it fit into his plan?

That’s the monster you’re going to marry.

Chills ran down her spine. Any man capable of murdering his own flesh and blood was no human at all. Her fingers twitched at her sides. He was a monster, one she planned to slay.

Destin swiftly moved over to the balcony which overlooked the palace courtyard. It was the place where palace decrees were announced. The courtyard was currently filled with scared and infuriated citizens of the kingdom, awaiting an announcement from their leader.

Her soul chilled further as the king straightened his back and prepared to give his announcement, not one ounce of weakness to his form.

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