Page 20 of Of Rime and Ruin
I pound the wall with the meat of my fist.
I need to get my anger under control. Two nights in a row? That’s two too many. Whatever I’ve done can’t be undone. Soon enough, we’ll find her body on the shore.
Rivulets stream down my back. I press my forehead to the stone tile and let the water pelt my body. A pounding, roaring torrent. Indifference is the best remedy, the only thing between me and the spiraling cliff of despair. I must not cross thatline. My memory is gone, but there’s no retrieving it. Whatever happened, happened. The icy knot of anger in my stomach unfurls, dissipating with the steam. My muscles relax.
I could select a steward to hold the throne in my stead. Someone wise but unaffected by the swell of power. Someone kind. Someone who can give my people the care and attention they need.
They could return to the sea. Without me, they’d be safe.
No more king? No more clawbeast.
Jealousy claws my throat as I pound the wall again. Then again. The sound reverberates through the bathroom.
I pause mid-punch. A rapping sound at my chamber door. Three quick knocks.
Water hisses in my face, sticking in my lashes.
“Sire? I don’t mean to intrude. But it’s urgent.”
Fuck.I can’t say no to Deirdre.
I stop the water and squeeze out my hair, then wrap a towel around my hips.
“One moment!” I shout at the door, padding out into the main bedroom. My wardrobe is a simple armoire. Dark wood, harsh lines. Two doors open to five sets of the same clothing: loose cotton shirts, goatskin pants, white fur cloaks. I grab one of each and slip them on. “Enter.”
The door opens, and she bustles in. Her hands twist in front of her stomach, winding together, then apart. Her eyebrows pucker in concern.
“Speak, Deirdre. You’re going to kill me with that face. What happened?”
“This morning, two younglings went swimming and found a…”
My stomach flips. “Awhat?”
“There’s a—” She pauses. Twists her fingers. Starts again. “I think you might have—”
I pull out my desk chair and sink into it to brace for the news. A dead body. That’s what she’ll say next, I’m sure of it. And,goddess above, a pair of rebellious younglings found it. “Go on.”
She draws a deep breath. “There’s a female in your dungeon, Sire.”
“Dead?” Those poor younglings. This is why I have rules—to keep them from tumbling into trauma like this.
“No, Sire.”
I frown, moving to activate the sight-pool. “How?”
“I believe you put her there. Theotheryou.”
My fingers dip into the pool, and the water glows. I guide the vision into the water. The dungeons are beneath the ice, part of the abandoned city of Doloch. A system of tunnels with several caged cells unused for years.
I lean onto my desk, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Is she one of ours?”
The hands twisting again. Then, “She’s Brine.”
I alter my tune, focusing my search on the dungeons. The image ripples and shifts, revealing the tunnels as I seek an occupied cell.
What did I do?My memory is muddy. I only have pieces: anger. Swimming. Chasing something. Someone. Chasing her. A palmwood tree, warmed by the sun.The fuck?
