Page 151 of The Princesses of Ruin
Fucking bitch.
I groan as I open my eyes. The room looks better, and I have a new guest.
Cecillia.
She’s mending something dark and bloodstained.
“Finally awake,” she mutters. “While you’ve been cooling your cheeks, we’ve been working our tails off.”
“I’d much prefer…” My voice is hoarse, barely serviceable. I power on anyway. “Prefer working than cooling.”
“I hear you’d prefer death, actually.”
My heart hammers a furious beat. “I would, if you’d grant it.”
She snorts. “You’re still an idiot.”
“I’ve lost all reason to live, and so I want death.”
“All reason?” she asks in a shrill tone as she sets down her work.
I grit my teeth against the sound that tries to shred my ears. “Yes, all.”
She slams her fists down on the bedside table. “You’ve lost one thing!”
“And Scarlett was everything!”
Cecillia’s eyes glisten and she swallows her tears. “So, you’ll deny your kingdom strength and leadership because you’re too sad to go on?”
“Don’t patronize me,” I snarl.
She sits back with a huff, picking up the cloth and returning to her work. She threads with quiet annoyance, her fingers flicking and her lips twitching as if she’s having a silent argument in her mind. Scarlett used to do it, too, when we’d fight. She’d close herself off and continue the discussion in her mind, waging a war against her imagined version of me.
“Leave,” I say, the lump in my throat threatening to strangle me just as effectively as Kazimir.
“I can’t,” she says.
“Are your legs broken?”
“No, you’re to be watched at all times, and this is my shift,” she says.
I lay back and close my eyes. The binds on my ankles are dampening my power projection. My hand is wrapped in an immobilizing cast, and my ruined shoulder is slinged across my chest. Fighting my way out is ill-advised.
Fuck off, Alyse.
“Just trying to give you some good advice.”She projects her words into my mind.
No, you’re trying to fucking puppet me. I can feel your meddling. It smells like sickly syrup.
“You’re not well and bedrest is required. Your hand may never work again.”
Without my wife’s face to caress, why would I need it?
She’s quiet for a long time and I sink into the rhythm of my breathing. I must nod off, because when I open my eyes again, Alyse is in the chair at my bedside.
The swell of her stomach strikes a chord of envy in my heart. I wanted that withher.
“I know.” Alyse closes her book and sets it on the table. “I’m sorry.”
