Page 28 of The Maleficent Faerie
“My apologies,” he says, low. “For not stepping in and giving you something to cover up. I don’t—I’m not—” He rubs the back of his neck. “Taking charge, leading, making choices—not my strength. Still, I should have done more. Caennith or not, you didn’t deserve that.”
“What were they saying about someone called Forresh?” I ask him.
He winces. “Kyan’s sister. She went to Caennith with a few others to try and kidnap your friend the Princess. They were all killed. We heard from one of the King’s ravens that Forresh nearly got her hands on Princess Dawn—but you stopped her.”
I think back over the incidents—too many to count. Some were handled before they ever got to me and Dawn.
“Did she have purple hair?” I ask. “Silver scales along her jaw, neck, and collarbones?”
Sorrow fractures Andras’s gaze. “Yes.”
I killed her. I don’t have to say it—the truth hangs heavy and somber in the air between us.
Killing kidnappers and assassins is my job. Easy enough, thanks to my training and the defenses placed around Dawn and me. I was always congratulated by the Royals afterward—pulled into fierce, grateful hugs. Once, after a particularly close call, the Queen stepped over a pool of blood, cupped my face, and kissed my cheek. She was so thankful I’d protected her daughter.
The people I killed or injured were enemies. Invaders. But in my mind, one of them has now transformed from an “enemy” into someone’s sister. Forresh, friend and fellow warrior of the men I met today. A member of Kyan’s family.
No wonder they hate me. I’m surprised they haven’t done more than yell empty insults and briefly humiliate me. I suppose Kyan might have done more—maybe even tried to kill me, if the Maleficent One hadn’t appeared when he did. Though it seemed as if Kyan’s anger was waning, yielding to fear and sorrow, even before the Void King made his entrance.
“Come.” Andras gestures for me to precede him out of the bathing room. “We should go to the service.”
I walk into the big communal room, glancing back at Andras. “I’m permitted to attend the service?”
“Shackled, of course,” says a velvety voice.
The Maleficent One is leaning against the wall right outside the private bathing chamber.
“How long have you been lurking there?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“The whole time. Had to be sure you didn’t smash Andras’s jaw, break his nose, or tear out his throat.”
The thought of hurting Andras never entered my mind. Which is strange, considering the level of anger and violence I’ve felt toward the others. Though in the case of Vandel and Reehan, I merely repaid disrespect and rudeness with caustic words and one swift kick.
As for the King himself—his presence sparks a panicked desperation inside me—the conviction that Ishouldkill him, clashing with the horrified awareness of how he affects me physically.
I stand speechless, unable to voice any of it aloud. Unable to meet his eyes.
“Go on,” the King says to Andras. “We’ll follow in a moment.”
With a bow, Andras hurries out of the bath-house.
Something clinks in the King’s hand as he moves toward me. A pair of manacles, and a bluesteel collar. His dark eyes trail from my face, down to my breasts, then lower.
“The dress suits you,” he says quietly.
“I don’t often wear dresses like this. Usually leathers. Simple fabrics, clothes I can move in easily. But I do like this gown.” Why am I babbling?
He advances in a slow prowl that makes my heart pound. “I understand how you fooled me. You look like a princess. One with the heart and skill of a warrior.” He lifts shadow-stained fingers and I recoil, my muscles hardening for an attack.
“Easy, Aura,” he says softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No,” I breathe. “I’m going to hurtyouif you touch me.”
He laughs, and his immense wings flare suddenly, high and proud, spreading out and then curving forward until they partly encircle me. The act reveals those shimmering purple and blue feathers near the roots of his wings.
“I’ll make you a deal, little viper. I won’t put this bluesteel collar around your neck—if you’ll give me the rings you’re wearing. Every single one of them.”
I splay my fingers, looking at my family rings. “Why do you want them? I told you they are heirlooms, worn for luck and the goddess’s favor. They’re useless to you.”
