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I stiffened as his words cut through me, but I didn’t let it show as I met his stare. “Then more are going to die because of my failure unless the Crown does something. What are you going to do once you take the throne? Continue letting your people die while you sit in the castle eating dates?”
“Oh.” His laugh was harsh and grating. “I ca
I snorted. “Seriously? Taking the throne would actually require you to do something other than sit around all day and drink all night.”
His nostrils flared. “One of these days, Sera. I swear.”
Something dark and oily opened inside the center of my chest, much like where the warmth from my gift usually sprang to life. This feeling was slick and cold, snaking through me as I stared at my stepbrother. “What? Are you suggesting you’re going to do something? You? Have you forgotten that black eye?” I smiled as his eyes narrowed. “I can easily remind you, if so.”
He took a step forward. “You little bi—”
“That’s enough, Tavius.” My stepfather’s voice boomed, startling me enough that I jumped. “Enough,” he growled when my stepbrother started speaking once more. “Leave us, Tavius. Now.”
Stu
Dates flew through the air. The hard ceramic cracked into the arm I lifted instead of my face. A flare of pain ran up the bone. I sucked in a sharp breath as the bowl fell to the floor, cracking upon the marble tiles.
Arm burning, I started toward him. “You son of—”
“That is enough! Both of you!” The King slammed his hands on the desk. And a moment later, the doors swung open. The two Royal Guards entered, hands on their swords. “Sera, you stay right where you are. Do not take one single step toward your stepbrother. That is an order. Disobey it, and you will spend the rest of the week in your chambers. I promise that.”
Rage flashed through me like wildfire, stinging my eyes. I forced myself to stand down, even though I wanted to pick up that shattered bowl and beat Tavius over the head with it. But the King would carry through on his threat. He’d lock me in my rooms, and I…I would lose myself if he did that.
“And you, my son,” my stepfather continued. Tavius stopped, eyes widening at the thunder in the King’s voice. “I do not want to see you for the remainder of the day. If I do, it will not be a bowl you suddenly find in your face. Do you understand me?”
Tavius nodded curtly and then turned without another word, brushing past the Royal Guards. The King motioned at them, and they crept out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them.
Silence enveloped us.
And then, “Are you okay?”
His softly spoken question left me a bit bewildered as I looked down. My throbbing arm was already a bright shade of red. It would bruise. “I’m fine.” I looked at the broken bowl. “I’d be better if you hadn’t stopped me.”
“I’m sure you would be, but if I hadn’t, you’d have likely seriously injured him.”
I turned around slowly.
The King picked up his chalice and downed the contents in one gulp. “You’d make short work of your stepbrother.”
What he said shouldn’t feel like a compliment, but his words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, nonetheless.
“He will never do that again,” he added, dragging his hand over his head, and clasping the back of his neck. “That type of behavior isn’t like him. He has a temper, yes. But he normally wouldn’t do that. He’s worried.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Tavius always had a cruel streak, and my mother and stepfather were either blind to it or chose not to see it. “What does he have to worry about?”
“The same thing that plagues you,” he answered. “He just doesn’t express it as vocally as you do.”
No part of me believed that Tavius worried about the people unable to feed themselves. If anything, he worried about how it would affect him one day.
“I’m sorry you had to see what you did this morning,” he continued. Once more, I was struck silent in surprise. “I know you found them.” He leaned back, resting his hand on the arm of the chair. “No one should have to bear witness to that.”
I blinked, and it took me a moment to work past more unanticipated words. “Maybe not,” I cleared my throat. “But I…I think some do need to see to truly understand how bad it’s getting.”
“I know how bad it is, Sera. And that is without seeing it.” His gaze met mine.
I took a step toward his desk, hands clasped together. “Something has to be done.”
“It will.”
“What?” I asked, suspecting that he believed I still played a role in stopping it.
His gaze flicked to one of his many shelves and the glass trinkets on it. “We just need time.” Weariness clung to the King’s tone when he sat back in his chair. So did heaviness. “We only need to wait, and the Rot will be fixed. It will all be fixed in time.”
Leaving my stepfather’s office, I had the same feeling I had when a bad nightmare lingered hours after waking, and I had to remind myself that whatever horror had found me while I slept wasn’t real.
It was an anxious sort of feeling. As I left the stairs and made my way to the banquet hall, I kept my head down, ignoring the many servants and how they ignored me. I didn’t know what the King thought would change. There needed to be action. Not patience. Not reckless hope.
Entering the banquet hall, I rubbed at my sore arm. I needed to change and then find Sir Holland. I was sure to be late for our training. I didn’t know if—
“Please.”
I stopped mid-step and turned, sca
“Please,” came the whisper again, from my left. I turned to the candlelit alcove and the closed inside door. “Please. Someone…”
Stepping into the shadowy area, I pressed a hand against the door handle and held my breath as if that would help me hear better. For a too-long second, I didn’t hear anything.
“Please,” the soft cry came again. “Help me.”
Someone was in trouble. The worst kind of thoughts entered my mind. When these rooms weren’t in use, no one checked them. All ma
Stepping into the chamber lit only by a few scattered sconces, my gaze landed on the dark-haired girl kneeling beside the low table, centered between two long settees. “Are you okay?” I asked, hurrying forward.
The girl looked up, and recognition flared. It was one of the young women from the kitchens who’d been praying. She didn’t answer.
“Are you all right?” I asked again, starting to kneel when I noticed there was nary a wrinkle in her starched, white blouse. She was pale, her light blue eyes wide, but not a single strand of hair had fallen free from the bun secured at the nape of her neck, nor was her lace cap askew.
The servant’s eyes darted over my shoulder to something behind me.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I heard the thud of boots, softened by the plush carpet. The door closed…
Then I heard it lock.
The girl’s gaze shifted back to mine, and her lips trembled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Godsdamn it, this was a trap.