Page 44 of Queen of Legends and Lies
His demeanor reminds me so much of my grandfather’s, it’s uncanny. They even share a few physical qualities. Fit. Tall.Strong features. But the similarities stop at their hair. Fitz’s head is shaved, while my grandfather’s hair seems to have a mind of its own, falling in wild waves around his face.
“Thank you, Captain Fitz.”
He offers me a genuine smile, a welcome change from the former captain’s constant scowl.
As I approach the door, a tawny-haired guard named Donovan dips his chin, and the presence of these two familiar guards lends a small measure of comfort. “The healer said he’s healthy, merely sleeping from the drugs he was given.”
The drugs I wasn’t able to cleanse from his body.
Donovan opens the door, and I step through. The captain follows us down the corridor and pauses outside a door. The two additional guards stationed outside—a young woman with short black hair and a husky man with a patch over one eye—both bow when they see me.
As someone who was all but invisible growing up, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. “That’s really not necessary.”
When they start to protest, Captain Fitz lifts a hand to silence them. “It’s just a sign of respect. Better get used to it, Your Highness.”
Fitz winks when the guards turn to allow me entrance, and behind me, there’s a soft laugh from Donovan.
“Just be glad…” The thought dies on my lips when I step inside.
Not a speck of dust or debris mars the room’s marble floors or immaculate white walls. And the space is small. Four paces by four paces at most. Spartan too. Other than the bed, there’s no furniture. Nothing that could double as a weapon.
Sterling is bound to the mattress, chains thick enough to hold a wild beast securing his wrists and ankles. His skin, usually a rich, deep bronze, is slashed with angry red scratchesand burns. His eyes are coal black, same as the last time I saw him.
My chest tightens.
These wounds weren’t caused by the healers, the guards, or Celeste knocking him out.
Idid this. Me. I inflicted this damage on his body. I did my best to kill him in an effort to save the world.
Guilt forms a noose around my neck and squeezes. What more can the gods demand of me?
“You just can’t quit meddling.” Sterling’s face twists in a derisive snarl. “Can’t mind your own fucking business.”
“Never.” The word comes out harsh, but my eyes betray me, tearing up just enough to blur his form. He’s here. Alive. And that’s all that matters.
All four guards fan out around me, eyes locked on the once-crowned prince.
“Please be careful, Your Highness.” Eye Patch puts a hand on his sword. “He isn’t himself.”
“I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” Sterling pulls back, huddling on his bed. “Now, I see clearly. You are cursed creatures. Humans. The whole lot of you are flawed. If you’d just submit, your lives would be perfect. But you won’t. Because you’re too stubborn. Too stupid. You get this close, knowing I could rip your throat out and drink your blood.”
“But you won’t.” My voice cracks, and I swipe at the tears starting to fall. “The man I love is still in there. You may not realize it, but I know it’s true.”
Motioning to the guards to stay put, I move closer to him. For a second, I’m afraid Fitz is going to argue, but he simply steps toward me, body in a fighting stance and gaze trained on Sterling. Then I climb onto the bed, straddling Sterling’s waist. We lock eyes.
As my tears fall faster, his vile tirade falters.
But it isn’t because he empathizes with me. Fear flickers in his fathomless eyes, and I realize he’s terrified of being healed. Or rather, the monster he’s become is terrified.
He bucks beneath me, trying to throw me off, but the chains restrain him, leaving us in this distorted embrace.
“Stop.” Hatred laces his voice. “Your tears only show how weak you are.”
I don’t stop. I can’t. The tears come harder now. Not just for show, not just in hopes of healing him. But because the floodgates have finally opened, and all the fear and pain and uncertainty of the last several days gush out.
Digging the same dagger I used on Leesa from my pocket, I inhale a steadying breath and then collect tears on the blade’s edge. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Then I slash his cheek and pray my magic works.
