Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 37

A familiar sensation overtook me as the guards dragged me into the throne room and pushed me to the ground. Whispers swarmed around me, wild and fervent. I kept my prayers to myself.

It would all be over soon. Hopefully I could buy Sabine some time.

"Look at me, you treacherous fool," came the king's voice. The guard that had been restraining me hesitated, his sword still poised at the center of my back.

"Your Majesty," his voice trembled and the room went silent at his direct address. He let out a strained sigh as the realized his misstep, but stubbornly stumbled along. "Is that...wise? The witch...her eyes."

I snorted into the floor. What kind of nonsense did they believe I could do with my eyes? The Angel's only knew. I would have used such a skill if I had it long before now.

The room paused, like an in-held breath. An irritated sigh came from the direction of the king. I looked up through the sheets of my matted hair as King Gilroy leaned forward, his shining leather shoes creaking as he shifted his weight.

"Are you trying to call me dumb, soldier?"

"No! Of course not Your—"

"Enough." The king's tone was clipped. "Your superstitions have no place here. Go ahead, let her go. She's nothing but a soft, spoiled, little girl. She's no threat, not now anyway."

This time the guard withdrew and I grit my teeth, my smile gone and I looked up, connecting with the king's inky black eyes. I saw nothing of Jourdon there. Today his expression was grim, clear of his usual drunkenness.

Now I could see bits and parts of Pierre in him.

"Ah, there we go. Angry as ever. And look—no spells or enchantments. For surely, if she could, she would have murdered me where I sit right now with that look alone."

There was a shuffle in the room and I slowly rose to my feet, ignoring the pain in my tired aching body. Whatever it was that was going to occur, I wouldn't do it grovelling on the floor. One quick glance around showed that I was surrounded by black clad Garnetti guards, their gazes wary. I did not see the intimidating black mask of the King's Guard, however.

Curious.

The King regarded me. "You have caused a real ruckus, girl." He sniffed, settling his palms on the arms of his chair. Garnets glinted red as he tapped his fingers. Beside him sat the Marquise, though, I noted, she did not sit on a throne. Her gaze strayed from me to the door. For once she was stiff, her body strained away from Gilroy.

I focused back on him. "It was worth a try."

The king's eyes flashed, rage brewing just behind the surface.

"You left a mess in your wake."

Internally, I flinched. Pierre may have betrayed me, but for his own father to refer to him as simply a mess? It didn't seem right. I kept my expression blank, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. I didn't reply, waiting to see what Gilroy would do next.

There was something in his eyes. A shiver spread over my skin, a hot burn spreading over my back. Like something within was scratching at the barrier of my skin, determined to be set free.

It took everything I had to stay in the moment. I may have played the madwoman the superstitious guards had wanted to see, but I would not allow the king to see me lose my dignity.

Gilroy didn't look away, his lips pressed into a hard line. When he spoke it came out more like a growl. "You and my own son have betrayed me."

My brows pressed together. Pierre may have betrayed me, but as far as I could tell he had not betrayed his father.