Page 112 of The Ballad of a Bard

Connor made a noncommittal noise. “No, only the main six. Muse, Imp, War, Dream, myself and North.”

Crimson exhaled as she began to understand. “What does the soulsaint do for them?”

“They increase their powers, and create a stronger bond than any other ordinary love. Like I said before, North should not have been able to summon me and yet he did, with your powers by his side.” Her father’s blue eyes found her and pinned her to the spot as he said, “You are North’s soulsaint, Crimson.”

Her world fell, shattered, picked itself back up and glued everything back together only to shatter once more. This entire time, she’d felt drawn to him, inexplicably dizzy even, whenever he came around. But now, with her father’s definition of a soulsaint, as he dove deeper into it and explained the connection, the bond- it all made sense.

“He was the very last of the Saints that I created, pouring more love and power into him that I did for any of the others. Within that time, within that last creation of mine, I gave himmy utter devotion to the colour of life, of lust and love. The colour which you were named for.” Connor slowly elucidated, and she could sense the hesitation and apprehension in his voice, as if he were scared how she would react to that. “When a Saint finds their match, their heart begins to beat like a real one, unbeknownst to them.”

“West is my soulsaint.” She went over the phrase until it tasted sweet, right, delicious in her mouth. Until the word was ingrained within her brain and would never leave. In Rapscallion Voss’s book, there had been no mention of that term. But then the scoundrel had also misinterpreted West in the first place, so she wasn’t sure how much of that book she should truly believe.

“Yes. I am more sure of that than anything else in my life.” Connor dipped his chin in confirmation. “That is why I brought him up. Not to judge the relationship, even if he’s a tad bit older than I would have liked for my daughter. But to share that vital information with you because you needed to know. And now, you’re ready for this next part.”

He shuffled around, reaching for something in his pocket and withdrew a small vial that he set on the floor between them. A red glass one, with a twisted stopper just as delicate as the rest of it. She eyed it, the sparkling cerise contents that looked unlike anything else she’d ever known. She easily recognized the bottle from the healing ward after spending so much time looking in on Cobalt, but the items within were unknown.

“My biggest flaw with creating the Saints and their bonded, was not giving the gift of immortal lives. I’d already given so much of myself up to the other Saints, that there was nothing left for me to give in terms of immortality. And so no one dared to look for them, or even try except forMuse. The very last thing I want for you is to have found him, and be unable to love like I loved your mother.” He pushed it towards her slowly.

The glass scraped along the stone floor.

“What is that?” Crimson didn’t touch it, didn’t dare with the ominous feeling that poured from the jar.

“I didn’t kill Muse.” Her father immediately said and it made her already wary thoughts turn towards suspicion. “But I did take her heart.”

Her eyes snapped to the vial.

“Thisis Muse’s heart?!?” Her fingers curled inwards, refusing to even touch the vial. “Why do you have it?”

“Because I wasn’t going to let anyone have it. Not when it could grant a mortal the power of a lesser Saint.” Connor told her. “Or, makeyouafullSaint.”

Fifty Four

She delicately picked up the vial, eyeing the contents. As she twisted it back and forth, they sparkled like the finest gem she’d ever seen. Saints hearts were made from glass, not a beating muscle that could pump blood and circulation through their bodies. But she’d heard West’s, called it her home and loved it wholly.

“This would grant me full immortality?” Crimson questioned as she pulled the cork free, setting it aside on her lap instead of on the filthy earth.

If Altivar was going to make her fight against War, then there was no chance of her making it out alive. Not as a lesser Saint, which was exactly his reasoning for doing so. Her altering powers wouldn’t work against him, it was well-known. To show the people from all the gates that Red Lyric was nothing but a show name, a fighter that could be beaten, killed. But with this- with the chance to be a full Saint and to enhance her powers. There was the chance to take him down, to hold her own and fight back with everything she had inside of her. There was thechance of making it out alive, of being free and living with West.

Of taking that happy ending for herself and letting herself love him without the fear of rejection.

Something she desperately wanted.

Connor watched her from his cell as she lifted the vial, sniffing at the scarlet contents. No smell accompanied it, nothing but chilled air which she was thankful for. If a putrid scent wafted from the vial, she wasn’t so sure that she’d be able to down it.

There was a sickening tightness at the thought of consuming a heart, but at least it didn’t look like one. Instead, it reminded her of nutmeg with the powder-like consistency. If she reached into her own chest and pulled out her heart, would it look similar? Would it crumple to glass powder as soon as she touched it, easily mixing with tea if she stirred it in?

There was no water to combine it with, nothing to douse the dust at all. She swallowed, preparing herself as she brought it to the verge of her lips and paused, allowing that momentary lapse of hesitation as she rethought it all over.

If she did this, there was no going back.

If she didn’t, she would die.

Crimson made up her mind before anything else could convince her otherwise and poured the entire bottle into her mouth.

It was tasteless, thankfully and she forced herself not to think about what she’d just dumped down her throat as she tried to make it go down. It was almost chalky in texture but she refused to cough any of it up. Who knew what would happen if she didn’t swallow the entirety?

Connor rose on his knees, eyes wide as she struggled to eat it. Her throat bulged as she clapped a hand over her mouth, doubling over as a tingling began. It spread through her entirebeing, connecting each cell, wrapping around each vein, expanding into each bone and drop of blood like a ribbon of immortality. Her body began to burn, not in an unpleasant way but in an uncomfortable way as she successfully managed to lick the residue off her lips.

As she ate Muse’s heart.

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