Page 7 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

She glances over her shoulder and tugs on my arm. “Come to the house for a minute. We can figure this out—”

“Zara. Zara.” I cup her face in my hands softly. “There’s nothing to be done.”

“Please Leo…I need to hold you. Touch you.” The desperation in her voice mirrors my own, and her hand flies to the button of my jeans. She pulls my zipper down, but I grip her wrist to stop her.

“Stop. We’re in the middle of the street.”

“Then come with me.” Between sniffles and pleading, her gaze hardens. “If all we have is an hour, then so be it, but don’t be so cruel as to deny me that.”

Chills snake along my spine, and my stomach cramps. “It’s too hard… I can’t face your family, or hide in your room for the rest of the day. I have to get all my stuff in order in mere hours. I can’t afford to fall apart.” I want to be considerate and help her through her grief, but the truth is, I’m too wrapped up in mine.

“You—you asshole! I told you not to go! I told you the princess would sink her dirty claws into you! You think I’m naive? I know what the men in town say about her. I know what you two will do together. I can’t believe you chose a nineteen year old bimbo over me,” she repeats the angry words from this morning, sounding like a broken record, but the more she lashes out, the more I retreat within myself, suddenly feeling exhausted and numb.

I can’t believe she’s implying that I traded my life in exchange for a good fuck.

The Bringer appears, turning the corner and heading in our direction. “Don’t blame him, Miss Andreas,” Jorge says. “The fault is mine.” His gold sequin Bringer robe scratches the stones as I meet his guilty stare. “I never expected this, Leo.”

“I know, uncle. But it happened.” My knuckles itch, and like a man who lost everything at cards, I really, really wish I could punch the dealer and make it all go away.

Zara throws him a nasty glance and shouts, “Do something about it, then! Tell them you made a mistake. Tell the stupid undead bitch he’s unfit for the role—”

“Enough!” Jorge clips, “If you don’t stop speaking about our beloved princess in this manner, I’ll have to arrest you.”

The neighbor peers through the closest window, the commotion quickly attracting too much attention, and my heart hammers. “I need to warn Mum.”

A dry sob quakes Zara’s chest as she grips the front of my shirt. “Please, Leo. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

I can’t… It's too much. “You’ll find someone else.”

She shakes her head, almost violently. “No, I won’t!”

I firmly peel her hands away from my shirt and bring them up to my mouth. “Think of me as dead, Z.” I whisper as I kiss her knuckles.

Tears stream down her round cheeks, and it kills me, but I walk away. I’ll never see her again, the woman I planned to marry.

“Miss Andreas, let me escort you home.” Jorge puts a comforting hand on her shoulder as he guides her back to her parents house, her uncontrollable sobs now shaking her entire body.

My soul in shambles, I enter the house where I was born through the kitchen. Mum glances up from her scrapbook, her frail hand curled over a cracked picture of my father, a large yellow hoodie hanging from her bones.

The human treatments left her without hair and skinny as fuck. I’m so glad that she won’t have to endure anymore chemo. Jorge will provide the cure as soon as possible, and now that I’ve been chosen, I don’t have to worry about him delaying it unnecessarily.

I brace myself on the back of a chair not to topple over. “I was chosen.”

Mum clicks her tongue. “You silly, silly boy. You didn’t want this. I didn’t want it for you.”

I expected her to remind me how much of an honor this is, so I’m taken aback by her response. I stand there with my jaw slack and my heart in fucking smithereens.

A sob bubbles out of her throat. “I love you, λεβ?ντη μου.” She stands and envelops me in a hug, the both of us sobbing silently for a minute before she draws back to look into my eyes and rubs off the tears from my face with her bruised hands. “You’ll be alright. You’re strong and clever, so you’ll do well at court. Soon enough, you’ll be running the whole place, you’ll see.”

I open my mouth to tell her I’d rather not survive the night, but no sound comes out.

“Wise words,” Jorge breathes, joining us in the kitchen. He hands me a thick binder and wraps an arm around Mum. “Miss Andreas is with her parents, now, and they’ll make sure she calms down before she’s arrested for treason. I’ll be waiting for you in the courtyard at six, and the princess will meet you for the ceremony at sunset. Read this in the meantime.”

“What is it?” Mum asks.

Jorge squeezes her shoulder. “Instructions.”

She glares at the papers. “To do what?”

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