Page 61 of The Pureblood Princess
And she has no key.
“You left so suddenly the other night, we didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
Nadia turns slowly from the door, moving to conceal the silver dagger within the skirt of her gown.
Konrád descends the steps into the foyer, swinging a large iron key about his finger. He looks perfectly pleased with himself, his smile content and proud, and as he draws closer, Nadia takes a step back.
She cannot stay here. If Dorota doesn’t kill her right away, Konrád will do unspeakable things to her until she does.
Whirling, she makes to sprint from the room. There must be other exits, perhaps through the stable block. Her heart races, and though she thinks to reach for her shadows, she’s too panicked to focus.
Thanks to Honora’s blood, Nadia’s speed is much increased, and she’s across the foyer and reaching for a closed door in the blink of an eye. But before she can get it open, Konrád is behind her, gripping her hair and yanking her back with such ferocity that she hits the tiled floor.
The dagger slips from her hand with the impact. It clatters loudly across the foyer, then slows to a stop beneath a beam of moonlight streaming in through a high window overhead.
Konrád crouches over her, his smile hungry and cruel. But then he pauses, seems to take in her appearance, and he sniffs the air.
“Wh—” The smile vanishes, and his gaze searches her bloodied body. “What did you do?”
Nadia doesn’t answer, doesn’t so much as open her mouth to speak.
“You smell like . . .”
The realization seems to dawn on him, and the surprise in his eyes shifts to horror, thenrage.
And she sees murder in the way he glares down at her, the way his hand curls into a fist.
Perhaps Dorota won’t be the one to kill her after all.
The blow across her face happens so fast she doesn’t even see it coming. He strikes her again, and her head snaps to the other side. Stars dance in her vision, and warmth trickles from her nose and across her lips.
“You’ll pay for this,” he growls, both his hands wrapping around Nadia’s neck. “If you touched my sister, I’ll... I’ll...”
His hands tighten, cutting off Nadia’s airways.
Her heart thumps hard beneath her ribs. The flow of blood through her body is loud in her ears, a rapid rhythm that is almost soothing. And somehow, in the chaos, she finds her calm.
She pictures Theodore’s face, his smile, the dazzling green in his eyes when the sun hits them just right. Then Octavia is breathing warm air upon her face, carrying her for miles across the cold seashore near Graystone. And finally, Vera is there, hair hanging loose about her face as she reaches into the bassinet and lifts an infant Nadia in tender hands.
The peace that flows through Nadia’s veins allows her to call her shadows, and before Konrád can watch the life fade from her eyes, she’s untouchable. Ethereal.
“No!” he screams, whirling around as if to find Nadia standing behind him.
She lurks above his golden head, her shadows darkening the foyer. Only the moonlight cuts through her form, its beams too strong for her to smother.
Konrád tips his head back, his eyes widening as Nadia’s darkness descends upon him. Some deeply rooted instinct rises up in her, and she knows to wrap her shadows about him, plunging him into a darkness so complete he can only grasp blindly for her, for anything.
“Marek!” he screams. “Brother!”
Nadia wishes she could shove her shadows down his throat, find his heart and squeeze until it bursts. But she cannot. And so, she does what she can.
She draws herself back together and rips Konrád’s throat from his body.
The surprise in his eyes is more satisfying than she could ever have imagined. He staggers, then falls. She stands over him, his blood dripping from her mouth, and relishes the light fading from his blue eyes.
A glint of silver catches her attention, and she remembers the knife lying abandoned in the foyer. As Konrád gurgles on his own blood, a pool spreading around him, she retrieves the knife and holds it up in the light.
“This was a gift from your sister,” she says softly, running her thumb along the hilt as she moves to stand above Konrád. “And I’d like to give it back.”
