Page 96 of A Reign of Malice
“Find me matches,” Julian replies, groaning softly as I force him into one of the foyer chairs. He sinks into it like every muscle in his body has decided to mutiny.
Clara doesn’t ask why. Of course she doesn’t. The world’s best advisor is already halfway down the corridor, her movements purposeful and swift.
I kneel before Julian, inspecting the damage he’s trying too hard to hide. The wounds are already starting to knit back together, but what catches my attention is what’s not there. No burns or scarring from touching Aeson’s blood.
He should have been marked the same way I was.
I open my mouth to ask about it, but Clara’s already returned, a small box clutched in her hands.
“What are we burning?” she asks casually, like she’s inquiring about dinner.
Julian’s voice is rough, low. “The whole fucking castle.”
Clara’s brows lift, but she doesn’t argue. She only glances at me for confirmation.
“Mind if I run to my room first?” she asks.
“Not at all.” I nod toward the box in her hands. “Take those with you. When you’re done, light a few fires up there.”
“Where’s Aeson’s body?” Noen cuts in, voice like iron.
“Dining hall, back that way,” I say with a nod toward the corridor.
He grabs a few of the matches from Clara, giving her a quick kiss before turning for the hallway. “I’ll start there.”
I glance at Julian. “Are you okay with that?”
“As long as his corpse burns, I don’t care who starts the fire.”
He’s grumpy, beyond tired, and still bleeding a little. The adrenaline has faded, leaving behind weariness and lingering fury. I don’t push him. He’s earned the right to be whatever he wants.
Once Noen heads toward the dining hall and Clara goes up the stairs, I encourage Julian to stay in the chair. “I know how strong you are, but I’m not. Will you please stay with me?”
He softens instantly. “I’m sorry, Sloane.”
I grab his hand as we settle. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’m going to be okay. We both are.”
His promise rings true, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with seeing him hurt.
We remain silent for several minutes, both of us seeming to reflect on the evening, but our rest is cut short.
The other royals walk through the shattered front doors.
Estee. Theo. Isla. Asher. They’re battered but upright, each bearing the look of warriors who’ve seen the cost of battle. It’s all over their faces. The grief, pride, and relief.
“Elyn is here,” Estee says first, her voice quieter than usual. “She wants to speak with you two. But she refuses to step foot inside this place.”
“Smart choice,” Julian says as he pushes himself back up, slow but steady. “It won’t exist much longer.”
Isla and Estee both look at me with raised brows. I don’t explain. Not yet.
“Tell her we’ll be out in just a moment,” I reply.
Asher steps further in, glancing around. “Do you need help?”
“Fires are already roaring upstairs,” Clara calls as she appears at the last landing above the stairs, now with two boxes in her arms, smoke trailing her from the hall she just exited.
