Page 33 of A Frozen Pyre
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The withered, papery husks of six servants littered the kitchen floor, mouths ajar in silent, frozen screams, eyes shriveled like grapes dried to raisins in the sun. Their linen clothes clung to their limp forms, now three times too big for the skeleton-stretched skins they wore. A plump, healthy human continued screaming, each sound as deranged as the one before it. A fae male rushed to her side and pressed his hands into her temple, soothing the unhinged onslaught of wails. She sniffled slightly as she sank to the floor, quietly clutching her knees to her chest.
Ophir knew only one culprit who left mummified husks in her wake.
Dwyn, what have you done?
The princess turned and pushed past the gathering crowd of shocked servants, of agitated castle guards, and the jostlingform of the king’s advisor as she stumbled toward her room.
“Princess?” Evander asked, eyes wide at her harried expression. He reached out a hand to steady her.
“Help the servants,” she said, pushing him to the side.
The man released her. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see such atrocities.”
She faced away, hoping he thought she did so in mourning. Yes, of course, she should have been upset by seeing dead bodies. She was meant to be a delicate princess, untouched by senseless brutalities and the horrors of magic. She was upset, all right, but not for the reason she should be.
Fury was her guide as she felt her way back to her rooms. She hadn’t spent much time out of them since arriving in Gwydir. She also hadn’t left her room much in Tarkhany, or her one in Aubade after Caris’s death, for that matter. Despite her insistence on introversion, she knew enough of the castle’s layout to storm back to her chamber. She put as much distance between herself and the kitchen as she could before a low, firm voice halted her.
“Ophir, stop!”
She ran into a hard, invisible wall.
A male grunt mixed with her angry cry.
Tyr’s voice was tense and hurried as he begged her to listen. “Think about what you might be running into. If Dwyn—”
“She won’t hurt me.” Ophir shoved past Tyr.
He grabbed her wrist so hard that she almost yanked her arm from its socket in her haste to get away. Tyr pressed, “You have to see what this means, Princess. Look at what she did. Maybe she won’t harm you, but clearly, she’ll hurt anyone else. This wasn’t one murder. She killedsix. She is ready with an arsenal of powers, Ophir. Whatever she knows—”
“What is there to know!” Ophir practically shrieked. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he’d flinch away from her refusal to lower her voice. “Dwyn knows you’re here. That’s why she did this. We heard it from Zita herself. I left Dwynalone with Suley. What else could it possibly be? Those servants’ lives are on our hands, Tyr. If we had just told her—”
“It is not normal, it is notsane, to hear someone you dislike is present and go on a murderous rampage. She is unwell, Ophir. She’s dangerous. She—”
Ophir rammed her opposite hand against the empty air and connected with his chest. When he remained immobile, she shoved again. He was ten seconds away from becoming a gaping hole of singed clothes and blisters if he didn’t get the fuck out of her way.
“What, Tyr? What else could be worth murdering six of Ceneth’s attendants after several weeks of good behavior? She’s stockpiling. She’s fucking furious.”
“This is my fault,” he said quickly. “I’ll come in with you.”
“You’re right. It is your fault. If we had justtoldher, this wouldn’t be happening. You’re the problem, and you will not be a part of the solution.”
He squeezed her arm. “Yes, I will. She can’t hurt me. Anything she does to me—”
“Your tattoo? Yes, I know. I understand enough about your fucking blood gang.” Ophir shook off his touch. “But this isn’t about your safety. She feels betrayed byme, and she deserves to hear it from me. I need to make this right between us.”
Tyr made a surprised noise.
“What?” she bit.
“I just… I didn’t think…”
Ophir narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t think I cared about her? Why, because you and I sleep together? Don’t be possessive. It’s not a good look for you.” This time, when she stormed past him angrily, he let her by.
She’d been poised to look like a villain in Dwyn’s eyes after all the siren had done for her, and she resented Tyr for it more than she could say.
Ophir paused at the door to her room. Her fingers hovered just above the handle, gathering her breath. Aftershe rallied her courage, she pushed into the room to find…nothing. Dwyn wasn’t on the bed. She wasn’t in the bathing room. She wasn’t at the window, or at the desk, or hiding in a shadow. She was nowhere to be found.
