Page 25 of What Blooms from Death

Phantom and I both froze. I tried not to wince, or to show any kind of weakness, despite the burning pain blazing through my leg. Phantom remained tightly wrapped around the king…or the king’s body double, or whoever the fuck he was.

A man walked into the clearing a moment later, his own weapon—a broad sword—sheathed in an ornately-decorated case at his side.

He surveyed the lawless scene without speaking, drawing respectful gazes and bowed heads as he moved into the circle surrounding me. His right arm was wrapped in a complex tapestry of inked designs. Light brown hair; a tall, wiry frame; honey-colored eyes that seemed determined to take in everything without truly focusing on any of it.

He looked familiar, though I couldn’t think of where I’d seen him before.

His expression was the complete opposite of Aleksander’s as it met mine; there wasn’t a hint of rage to be seen. Pure curiosity brightened his gaze, tempered further by an easy smile that spread across his face as our eyes met.

“Call your beast off,” he said, nodding toward Phantom, “and I’ll call off mine.”

My gaze darted around the clearing, calculating. I didn’t trust him tocall offanything. But I also didn’t trust my ability to survive all of the arrows currently pointed at me.

Seeing no other option, I gave a single, curt nod. “Release him, Phantom.”

He let out a reluctant hiss.

“Now.”

Slowly, my beast uncoiled himself and allowed Aleksander enough space to drop to the ground. The king—or his lookalike—braced a hand against that dark, muddy ground, bowing his head as he fought to catch his breath. Once he’d managed to do so, he calmly straightened to his full, impressive height and strode over to a group of the bow-wielding soldiers. Whereas the tattooed man had clearly commanded their respect, the king himself drew complete, deep bows, with a few of the circle dropping fully to their knees before him.

Even with their heads lowered, they kept stealing glances at him; they all seemed astonished to see him walking upright.

How long had he been sleeping against that tree?

Despite how fluidly he’d moved during our battle, he moved somewhat stiffly, now, as if slowing down had reminded his body of how it had been a statue only moments ago.

He didn’t so much as look in my direction anymore.

Instead, it was the tattooed man who spoke, stepping in front of me, blocking my view of Aleksander as he asked, “How did you do it?”

“…How did I do what?”

The man cocked his head. “The king has been asleep in this cursed forest for a very long time, despite all of our best efforts to save him. How did you wake him up?”

“I…all I did was touch him.”

Though his smile never truly disappeared, it was obvious he didn’t fully believe me. His gaze hardened. I braced myself for an onslaught of difficult questioning, and perhaps some form of torture to force the answers out.

Instead, he only asked, “What is your name?”

There was a faint glimmer of recognition in his tone. I averted my eyes, unwilling to indulge it, but it didn’t matter; he guessed correctly after only another moment of looking at me.

“You’re the Princess of Eldris, aren’t you?” I glanced up at his face and found him studying the shadows on my arms. “Bellanova Halestorn.”

“Exiledprincess,” I corrected. With a furious glare in Aleksander’s direction, I added, “The monarchy is no longer intact after what that bastarddid on the night of my birthday.”

His brow furrowed. “I see.”

And then all at once, I realized—I knew who this man was. “You were there that night, too, weren’t you?” He was the one I’d slammed into while rushing toward the balcony.

His smile wilted a bit. “Yes. I was there, unfortunately.” He seemed to disappear into his memories for a long moment before reemerging and offering me a polite bow. “Zayn Caldor, Lord of the North Reaches.” Just as quickly as it had disappeared, the easy smile slid back onto his face as he jerked his head toward Aleksander. “And cousin of that bastard, I’m afraid.”

My gaze darted toward the king, but I didn’t let it linger. Instead, I searched all the faces around us, a seemingly outlandish possibility occurring to me…

Had theyallbeen at Rose Point on the night of its demise?

None of the other faces seemed familiar—but then again, I hadn’t exactly been committing any faces to memory, aside from Aleksander’s. I’d kept to myself, just trying to get through the party without disappointing my family or my kingdom too badly.

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