Page 87 of Unbetrothed

The weighty shroud over me lifted the more I spoke until finally, I drifted to sleep.

CHAPTER 46

IAWOKE TO BULKSof forest green fabric, and golden swirls stretched overhead. I was home. This was my bed canopy. My sore body screamed for me to stay in place.

Dull light bathed the gold duvet since we had forgotten to pull the bed curtains shut. A strong gust of wind chilled my skin, and the balcony door tapped the wall with each new breeze. I yanked up my covers. Next to me, Laude’s wild curls splayed all over the pillow. I wished I could sleep so deeply.

Myla entered and tiptoed across the bedroom. “Princess Beatriz, are you ready to start the day?” She closed the balcony doors, but they continued to rattle.

“Does Mamá call?” I croaked.

“Ahhh, I wondered where Laude found rest.” A pinched expression crossed her face. “Yes, your father called an assembly. She also wanted you to know that Zichri awoke.”

I threw the covers off my body. “Help me get dressed.”

Myla lifted her chin high. “Wake Laude.” A grimace touched every line on her face. “I have much to attend to.”

Anger boiled in my stomach. “I asked you, Myla. She will not work today because she needs her rest.”

“As you wish, your Highness.” Myla scowled but buttoned the back of my dress and braided my hair. I ignored her foul manners since all I wanted to do was get ready as fast as possible.

I flew down the stairs. The outer layer of my red dress floated behind me. Soldiers, servants, and townspeople continued to buzz around the cavernous atrium: cleaning, fixing, and gathering waste. A broad-shouldered man shouted, “Should we remove the wicked prince from the post?”

I flinched. They were referring to Lux. I headed out the palace entrance against the current of people, feeling like a fish swimming upstream. The bustle of voices mixed into the background. I should have gone straight to Zichri, but I couldn’t help myself. Seeing might give me a sense of finality to this whole nightmare. Sweet memories with Lux building sandcastles and playing pranks swam into my mind. Did he ever really care about me?

A crowd gathered at the stakes. Cosme had placed them outside the palace when he went on a decorating frenzy. I stepped from under the entrance portico.

Blood dripped from Lux’s impaled body. I turned my gaze away, but the image branded to my memory. His stiff arms. The agonizing grimace. My heart hammered against my breastbone.

I cupped my hands over my mouth, gasping.

I did that to him.

Running back in, I rammed into servants and soldiers trying to get away from the horror outside. I slammed into someone’s back and tipped backward. An arm caught me before I hit the ground.

“Princess, do you need me to call for help?” The man squinted with concern. He wore a ruffled shirt like all the royal servants.

“No, I merely got a fright.” My voice trembled. “Please, have someone take down the prince’s body from the stake.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He dipped his head and escorted me through the crowd before relaying the message to another servant.

I felt disoriented and began wiping my palms on my gown. My hands felt filthy after seeing what they had done.

Why had I come down? Zichri. I jogged toward the infirmary, leaving the servant behind.

Upon entering, the frizzy-haired nurse lifted her head from attending a soldier near the entrance. “Good morning, Princess. Your beloved prince waits for you.”

A curtain surrounding a patient blocked my view of Zichri. Palms sweaty, I wrung them on my skirt, unsure how this would go. I turned down the row of beds near the back wall. Zichri fixed his sight on me, and I swallowed hard. He had the same effect as always. At least some things didn’t change.

In a hoarse voice, Zichri said, “Good morning, love. I hope I didn’t dream everything from yesterday. Some details are hazy.”

I sat next to him, stiffer than I’d imagined. The sight of Lux’s mangled body took something from me. “What do you hope to be true?”

He reached for my hand. “That you love me.”

“Yes. I said that.” I let out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong?” He grazed his thumb along my knuckles. “Something disturbs you. I hope it’s not me.”

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