Page 108 of Choosing Jenny
The throne, to my surprise, was topped by a small, pretty Ladrian woman dressed in a pink gown better suited for a boudoir than a governorship. Lacy, trashy, nearly sheer. Her skin gleamed obsidian, her blue hair fell in soft waves, and her smile teetered between bored and predatory.
She took a lazy drag from a diamond pipe, exhaling in plumes before addressing me. “Got word you’re here to execute Buster Dembeck.”
I knew by her tone that she was utterly intoxicated by the yesanosh, the herb for which the city was named. I hated the smell. It reeked of indifference, and smokers tended to see the world differently due to the hallucinogenic effects of their bad habit.
Keep things short and simple and get out of here.
I stepped forward. “Yes, I am Malice Ripper—”
“Royal executioner, eh?” she said, her eyes narrowed on me in a salacious manner. “I’m surprised Justy decided to send someone so important to do the job. He must be in one of his moods.”
“Justy?” Longshot repeated, sounding appalled. “You speak of our ruler this way?”
She shrugged insolently. “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s practically my brother by union.”
Longshot and I frowned at each other before I glanced back at the woman on the throne. “Are you and Thunder united?”
“Not yet, but we will be soon. If she ever leaves the council.” She gave a longsuffering sigh. “And she should—she hates it. Anyway, I’m Haze Cyonling, current governor of Yesanol, and the betrothed of Thunder Bateen. Or, Iwillbeher betrothed. Once she gets over herself and realizes I’m the best thing that will ever happen to her. So for now, I’m Governor Regent.” She narrowed her gaze on me, as if seeing me for the first time. “Why are you here again?”
I couldn’t help but feel as though we were being played somehow. That, or the yesanosh had fried most of her brain cells. Regardless, I said, “I require your access to Buster Dembeck’s cell.”
“Oh, yes, right. The executioner.” She tossed a ring of keys to me. “His is the yellow one. Have fun. Try not to make a mess up there but do whatever you want to him. He’s no fun to torment. Too fucking nice.”
“Up?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah. The prison here is at the top level of the tower. Have fun climbing the stairs.” She cackled at what she considered to be a joke.
The guards led us to the winding stairs and there were thousands ahead of us. But the time we reached the prison level, Tiger carried Jenny on his back, and Longshot carried Surge. Ladrian stairs were too tall for their short legs to hike up so many of them.
The prison was as well-adorned as the rest of the tower. It was less of a prison and more of a hallway of small rooms. Morning light made the wall diamonds twinkle, bringing cheer into an area that should have felt like doom.
Yesanol was famous for doing its own thing, even if that was allowing prisoners to have too much freedom or happiness. Each cell door was painted a different color, and I presumed that was why the keys were color-coded. At the end of the hall, a yellow door beckoned.
I knocked before I unlocked the door, just to give him a warning that someone was entering.
“Come in,” he called out.
I wondered if he knew he had invited death into his cell.
While everyone else waited in the hall, I stepped inside. The cell was larger than I’d expected. Unlike the royal prison cells, this one had a proper bed, a desk, a tiny window…it was a bright yellow bedroom. Not fancy, but still had all the basic amenities. There was even a partition around the toilet and bath. Such a far cry from the dingy, waste-covered cells in the royal prison.
On the bed sat Buster Dembeck.
He was an older man, with black skin that shone blue in the light the way mine did. His eyes were indigo and seemed to light from within. His gray hair was tied back, neat and trim. He wore a yellow prisoner uniform and a smile.
“Well, you must be my killer,” he said, almost jovially. He glanced around me, seeing everyone else by the door. “You brought friends?”
Somehow, words were hard to come by. He faced his execution with such aplomb, considering it was our fault it was happening.
I cleared my throat. “I am Malice Ripper. I am here to perform your execution today. These are your witnesses, Longshot Griel—”
“You’re Longshot Griel?” Buster said, interrupting me to stare at Longshot in genuine awe. “You took out half my men in the war.”
Longshot gave a slight smile and shook his head. “Hardly. Your men fought bravely.”
“Your skill on the battlefield is legendary,” Buster complimented him. “I am honored you are here, butwhyare you here?”
I didn’t miss the flash of guilt that touched Longshot’s features before it was gone. “I am on the royal council.” There was no sense in telling Buster he was the reason for the execution.
