Page 45 of The Kingdom's Crown

"It was my idea!" Thao gasped, still filling his own plate from the buffet at the side of the room.

"Then I love you both," I said, not bothering with the knife and fork resting on either side of the plate, simply picking the flaky pastry up with my fingers and taking a bite.

"You already did," Thao muttered with great disappointment.

Owen kissed my cheek, leaving a buttery smear, and I grinned around my breakfast, aware that I was not at all the picture of an appropriate princess with food in my fingers, my robe slipping from one bruise spotted shoulder, and my hair a tangled mess. Aric brought me a cup of chocolate and, thief that he was, stole a pie from my plate. Since there were still six remaining and I now had a cup of chocolate, I was inclined to forgive him.

The morning was shining, the sea glittering with heavy waves crashing and sparkling against the shore. My Chosen trickled in, chatting with each other, barely dressed, and I was inclined to play the part of the queen's line princess and ignore my duties for the day in exchange for dragging them all back to bed and repeating our night.

I was, I realized with a note of surprise, genuinely happy in that moment.

And then Cresswell entered the room, still drawing his shirt over his head, with a grave faced Guard Piper at his side. My heart sank as the young man's eyes met mine.

"The dowager queen is asking for you, Your Highness. They say, well—" Piper cleared his throat, and shot a panicked glance at Cresswell.

Clear green eyes, the same shade as the churning sea out the window, met mine. "It's time, Bryony," Cresswell said gently.

The moment fractured, buttery pastry turning to dust on my tongue, dread weighing heavily in my belly.

* * *

The morning did not shinein my grandmother's bedchamber, heavy curtains pulled tight, candles resting on the mantle, and still there was a veil placed over my grandmother's eyes to shield her. I didn't know if she was sleeping, I only knelt at her side, my knees numb against the hard floor, counting her breaths and the seconds between.

"What shall I do?" my mother moaned, her fingers twined around my grandmother's, head bent to touch their tangled grip.

Grandmother's breath wheezed.

And at the foot of the bed, standing in the shadows, my sister watched, trembling slightly. I hadn't forgotten I was residing in the castle with Camellia, but ever since Aric had declared we would not be joining the queen for dinner, I'd managed to avoid Camellia and her Chosen. I glanced at her now and found her eyes flicking around the room, hands fisted at her side as if she were searching for an escape.

"Bry-"

It took me a moment to hear the cracking note from my grandmother's lips for what it was—an effort to speak my name. My spine went rigid, and I reached across the blanket, my fingers resting over her sleeve, chilled by how thin the arm inside really was.

"Bryony—" Grandmother's breath strangled.

I shook as I rose. We'd been here together in this room for hours, and I'd barely moved an inch. I sat carefully on the mattress, afraid to jostle her.

"I'm here," I said, surprised by the clarity of my own voice.

Grandmother only breathed for a few minutes, each intake labored, each exhale rattling as if it would be her last. My mother's eyes were fixed to my face, a strangely frozen expression on her face I'd never seen before.

"You…" Grandmother's hand trembled, trying to rise off the bed, landing heavily on her own chest, fingers twitching up to her face.

Carefully and slowly, I reached for the veil over her eyes, drawing it away, waiting for a note of objection. My grandmother's eyes were red, the cold color drowned in burst blood vessels, pupils full and black. I shivered at the sight, shaken and wishing to run from the room.

"You are strong, Bryony," my grandmother said, barely above a whisper, with a sudden, fragile ease. "You won't fail. Kimmery will thrive. I am…so…" Her mouth remained open, eyes blinking. My heart pounded in my chest, my own eyes beginning to blink rapidly, trying to keep my vision clear so that she would know I was listening. "So glad," she said, on an exhale.

My mother let out a garbled little cry, but I was entirely still, staring back at my grandmother, trying to decide if I was imagining the slight tilt of a smile on her lips. Her eyes closed, and my hand clutched at her arm. She couldn't go! I needed her, needed her influence on my mother and her force against the council and…

Oh, wasn't that awful.

I hated myself in that moment, watching my grandmother wither quietly in front of me, dreading the loss of my ally in the battle for Kimmery, but not…

I stood from the bed, stepping back and searching the shadows, ignoring the glint of Camellia's stare.

"Hector, Vincent?" I called.

They moved slowly closer, tears rolling down Hector's face, Vincent's shoulders slumped lowly.

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