Page 55 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“What will you have us do, beloved?” I ask.
She could ask me to slaughter the world right now, and I’d do it.
Just because she asked me to.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Crymson
I takethem all in with new eyes. Eyes that feel like mine and somehow also don’t. My skin feels strangely tight, like I’ve been stretched out or like I can’t contain myself any longer. It’s not uncomfortable, more like a settling, as if I put on a new pair of clothes I haven’t grown accustomed to yet.
The five men I’ve given my heart to stand around the clearing, all in defensive poses that could never be rocked. There’s an awestruck aura about them as they look at me, Delilah, and the Queen of the Dead. Delilah hasn’t said much, her eyes wide and confused as she follows us along. I haven’t asked if she’s okay yet, but she’s uninjured. I needed to see my men first. My monsters. I needed to be reassured that they’re okay.
I wonder how different I appear to them right now, how strange I must look. I feel powerful. The Dead Queen reassured me I’m as powerful now as I need to be in order to change therealm forever. I certainly feel as if that’s true. Will they shy away from my changes? Will they hate me now?
But as I look down at Rorrick before me, kneeling with his head bowed, I understand that they would never hate me. They don’t run from me like I’m a monster. They remain, watching me carefully, wary but still very much caring. Their hearts are in my hands, just as mine is in each of theirs.
“Rise,” I say, and my voice echoes strangely, like there are two voices flowing from my lips. Rorrick looks up at me as I speak, his gaze tracing my face. “You do not kneel to me.”
Rorrick grins that devilish grin he’s so good at and slowly rises to his feet, towering over me. “What aboutforyou?” he quirks, unbothered by my newfound power. His question is teasing, his eyes alight with a desperate hunger I feel in my chest. He understands what I am now, how I’ve changed. The others may not yet.
I laugh at his question and smile as I reach for his hand. He takes it without hesitation, squeezing my fingers in reassurance. As if my laugh does it, the tension snaps and breaks, easing so that the others can venture closer. Had they expected me to attack? To be vastly different?
I’m still Crymson. I’m still me. I just feel...biggersomehow.
Christian takes strong but careful steps forward, his eyes flicking between me and his mother. I understand how it must seem, how it probably feels to lay eyes upon someone you thought was truly gone. The Queen of the Dead, the mother of three of my hearts, stands still beside me, her eyes very much on them and the daughter she was forced to leave behind so long ago.
I offer her my hand, and she takes it, her grasp surprisingly firm despite her state of decay. She’s strong enough to see this through, to make sure I seal my fate.
“She helped me rise,” I offer as explanation to them, letting them know she’s safe, that she helped me. Delilah was unharmed during her kidnapping. The Queen had kept the other Dead from harming her. As for me... I’d needed to be harmed to rise.
Thorn’s eyes flicker between me and his mother, a woman he thought was gone forever. Carver, to his credit, doesn’t seem surprised. If anything, he seems almost bubbly in his happiness to see her.
“So...” Seven starts, his shoulders tense as the Dead still circle them without attacking. “What now?”
My eyes crinkle, and I look toward the darkness of the Blood Kingdom, toward the ash that rains from the sky.
“Now,” I say, steeling my spine. “We finish what Boris started.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Crymson
The Dead Queenshifts forward at my words, her eagerness apparent, but at the moment, she seems wholly focused on the children she was forced to leave behind so long ago. She’s waited in ash all these years for this opportunity, but she’d never allowed them to see her fully in her current state. I understand why she’s okay with it now.
This is the end, I think.
We’re so close to the end of everything now, and she’s going to be there to see it through.
“My boys,” she says, smiling, but her smile is a little off, a little tinged by time or possibly insanity. She looks to Delilah at my side. “My baby girl.”
Delilah shifts back a step, still afraid, still confused. I offer her my hand, and she takes it gratefully, desperately, as if I’m her lifeline. She doesn’t speak, but she remains, a testament to her strength.
“I’m so proud of who you’ve all become,” the Queen continues, and as she smiles, her flesh around her mouth splits, giving some of the most grotesque imagery I’ve ever seen. The Dead are not called the Dead for nothing. The Dead Queen looks like she’s decomposing, albeit slowly. There’s a strangely sweet, putrid smell coming from her that’s somehow not so overpowering that it makes me retch. I don’t understand the magic of it all, but I do know she’s sane enough to ensure my rising.
Even if it had to come with intense pain.
Anger suddenly flickers across Thorn’s face, and he raises his sword again. Instead of pointing it at the circling Dead, he points it at Christian aggressively.
