Page 57 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
“Except when you were unconscious during the day,” I murmured. “Princess, I bid you to ignore purpose tonight and tomorrow night. Distract your duke in entirety. When I return from the grave, you will become Grand Duchess Regnant.”
“But. B-but so soon?”
I stood and extended a hand to Princess Take. “Come, Princess. There is that which we must do.”
She placed her shaking hand in mine. “My queen?”
“We must go and retrieve your husband. You can remove your cloak.”
The princess did so, revealing crimson lingerie beneath.
Of course.
“How am I best to navigate his refusal to see all parts of me?” she quietly asked me.
Only she could discover that. “As you said, Princess, what he sees has entirely to do with him, and very little to do with you. You will have your own realizations to uncover.”
The princess stumbled. “What do you mean?”
I entered the conservatory, and King Take’s panel was already turned to face me. Black flooded out in a mask around his eyes at the sight of his scantily clad princess. I rather feared that his trousers may not be strong enough to contain all they were designed to contain.
“King Take, I call back my stitch and release your shackles. For now.”
He staggered free of his panel, rubbing his wrists. As soon as his mind caught up, Take beelined for his princess. I stopped him with a push of power.
“Sir,” I said. “Your first thought should be of your queen. Of what your title now is. Of how you can support me. Of what you return to.”
“My first thought is of her,”he growled.
“That cannot be,” his princess whispered back.
I agreed. “No, it cannot. That is a problem indeed.”
I latched my power around their wrists and strode for the balustrade overlooking the courtyard. “Which is why you are both going to trip through the grave with me.”
Princess Take screamed. “We cannot go there.”
“You cannot without my permission.”
“What do you intend for us?” King Take demanded.
He was finally asking the right question.
I whipped my power forward and jerked both of them over the balustrade. He yelled and she shrieked as they whirled and twirled in a crashing descent through Mother’s hellebore grave.
“Easy as that.” I clambered atop the balustrade and then turned my back on the courtyard. I pressed a hand against my forehead, then fell back as if in a dead faint.
I toppled and fell, then clawed and climbed out the other side.
Into a grayscale world.
“Mothers,” I greeted.
The Takes were shouting and screaming, trying to find an exit point in the circle of my mothers.
“Goodness,” muttered Cassandra.
“Goodness,” I echoed.
