Page 73 of Heavy is the Crown
“I believe you’ll find everything you need in that,” I purr.
He gulps and licks his lips before opening the invite. To anyone else, the small poof of dust from the envelope would look like nothing, but the moment he breathes it in, the magical compound swarms him. A wicked, devious smile steals across my red-painted lips.
“Am I free to pass?” I ask my new puppet. He nods, mindlessly. “Good boy,” I murmur and pat my hand on his chest. “Walk with me, will you?”
I slip my arm through his as he whistles to another guard to take his spot checking people in. “Now, my little friend, what's your name?” I ask as he leads me toward the entrance.
“Kyle,” he says blandly.
“Well, that won’t do—it’s, oh, so boring. How about Bartholomew?”
He grunts his acceptance.
Leaning in to avoid being overheard, I press my mouth to his ear. “Now, my dear Bartholomew, I would justloveto meet the future queen. Do you think you can get me to her?” He nods, a groan escaping him at our close contact. “Wonderful! And if you are an extra good boy for me, I’ll make sure to reward you.”
Bart winds us through the outside of the crowd that has gathered in the grand entrance of the palace. Unlike Alexi’s compound, this looks more like a nightclub than a palace. The room to the right is built like a casino: card tables and electronic machines attract all types of people as they are tempted to try their luck. A thick layer of smoke hanging over the entire room creates an enticing haze for people who might want to hide their devious actions. Another room holds a dance floor, lasers skillfully decorating the air above those dancing. Bodies gyrate in cages and on platform stages. And on every wall, there seems to be a bar offering up any number of libations.
I watch as a man does a line of white powder off the chest of a small female. Just beyond them, I watch a couple pass crimsonsmoke between their lips as they kiss. People laugh loudly as they push by, spilling champagne from their overfilled cups. It’s the picture of hedonism.
We move up into the thick crowd that’s attempting to move through the magic and metal detectors. “Bartholomew, I would prefer not to go through those. Be a gem and get us around that.” He doesn’t answer but gives a curt nod. He walks to the edge of the room, bringing me along with him, still on his arm, and flashes his badge when we reach the velvet ropes that keep people in line and security able to control the crowd.
“Need to pass,” he says. The man who reads his badge looks between us, and I make a show of pressing my chest against Bart’s arm. A bashful smile is all I have to give, and it’s easy for the other workers to believe he’s bringing me back here to fuck. The man in front of us smirks and jerks his head for us to move through.
“Hey, baby.” He grabs my arm, pulling us up short. “Maybe after he’s done, you come find me.”
I take a deep breath in a desperate attempt to restrain myself from unleashing on him. I am once again reminded how men feel entitled to everything and anyone. Not trusting myself to speak, I simply smile and give him a wink before Bart drags me forward, bypassing the security that would surely have detected my daggers, hidden tonight against my lower back.
(“Shadowboxer” – Fiona Apple)
Bart pushes past the loudest areas until we are walking down a long corridor that has more cameras and security than I’ve ever seen in my entire life.Gods, Alexi didn’t even have this much in his prison.It’s not lost on me that if something happens, there is no plausible way I’m escaping back down this hallway. The path toward the VIP room is decorated with windows every other step. Some have people behind them, some have animals. It’s disgusting. Every single one of them looks either high or deeplyunhappy. The floor is a dark red marble that produces an eerie glow in the low light cast by golden chandeliers. In its entirety, it’s unnerving and feels as if I’ve just fallen down a rabbit hole.
“VIP guests are brought in early. No one is allowed in or out until the end of the party once it begins.”
Taking a deep breath, I can barely scent the warding layered into the architecture around us. It’s clever spell work, and now that I’m over the threshold, I’m trapped in its web.
Fuck.This was not part of the fucking plan.
Bart leads us through two giant golden doors that stretch from floor to ceiling. The scent of Eufori hits me immediately when I step into the giant room. My senses are overwhelmed as I take it all in. On the edges of the room, platforms stand just above the crowd with women dancing with fire, and every few moments, one blows a giant fireball. Coming down from the ceiling are acrobats who swing on silks and hoops, drawing the eyes of the crowd when they do something particularly daring. People are laughing and dancing, drinking, and smoking. In the dark corners, I think I even see some people fucking. It’s everything one would think of the city of sin. And there, directly at the end of the long path we are standing on, sits Ava atop Oisin’s lap.
FORTY-TWO
We will not allow them to gain access to the Well.
We will protect this secret at all costs.
Even at the cost of our own lives.
– Priestess Codex
Astrea
(“The Tradition” – Halsey)
I release Bart’s arm so I don’t drop him with the power surge as I see my friend with that gods damn collar around her neck. One of Oisin’s hands wanders while the other is lodged firmly under her skirt. Her eyes hold a vacancy, the silver dull and lifeless. Her once pink hair is a muted blonde, the limp strands contrasting the vibrant hair of my memory.
“Miss?” Bart taps me on the shoulder. “Will you be needing anything else?”
Ripping my eyes away from the scene, I focus my attention on him. “When is this over?”
