Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 39

They paused, taking in the scene. Our half undone clothing, the dead king, the blood-soaked blade in my hand.

Behind Darren another figure pushed through. Her eyes were set and stony under her spiral curls as they touched on me and Pierre. Coolness spiked at my skin, reminding me of what had just transpired.

Sabine.

She strode through the room, fearless as she put herself between me and Pierre, sword pointed at him.

"Why are you here?" My initial shock faded as panic settled in. Sabine was supposed to be on her way to Rosailles to warn my mother.

But she was here, sword drawn, every muscle coiled under her armour as she faced Pierre. Any evidence of her prior injuries had been set aside.

She didn't reply right away, glaring at Pierre. A wide smile broke over his face, but a sharpness settled into his eyes as he moved his gaze from me to her. The sounds of battle out in the hall filled the room. Metal and grunts and screams and thuds.

"What's this?" he asked.

Sabine lifted her chin, ignoring Pierre. "I could not leave you to die, Your Highness."

Her voice was tight, but warmth leaked into its edges, and despite my panic I couldn't help the way my heart stuttered.

"I know I'm in direct disobedience to your orders and I expect to be punished, but after you were taken, I discovered the rest of our men locked up within the barracks and Jourdon being taken away. I had to do something. Once I freed them, Darren and I both agreed we had to come for you before you were killed..."

She trailed off as her gaze strayed to the kings body. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at Pierre, then she widened her stance as if somehow she might cover me completely.

Pierre observed the chaos being wrought across the throne room as my guards closed in. He rested back on it easily, one palm under his chin, lips red and raw...

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I wasn't going to think of that moment again.

Pierre brought his hands together and clapped.

"Brilliant." He tilted his head. "The bravery, the loyalty. It's truly inspiring." He stopped clapping abruptly and sighed. He flung out an arm dismissively to his guards.

"Stand down."

Sabine tensed. She held her blade higher as she flitted her gaze from Pierre to his men. It took a minute for them to catch on. Only the ones closest to him heard at first. The fighting slowed, Garnetti guards pausing in confusion. Pierre's expression flickered with sharp irritation and he stood.

"Members of the Garnetti Guard, I command you to stand down!" he shouted.

His men froze, some of them mid strike, their weapons clanging and clattering as some of them dropped to the ground. Darren and his men shifted uneasily. Slowly, the fighting halted, both sets of guards glaring at the other.

Pierre smiled. "Much better." He slowly descended the steps of the dais and approached Sabine and me.

Moreau stepped back, placing a protective arm out across me.

Pierre pursed his lips and stopped, not coming any closer. There was blood smeared at the corner of his mouth and I could taste it on my lips. Bile rose in my throat.

"There is no need for all of this, the princess has refused my offer. Yet again."

The room was silent as the men glanced at each other, but no on interjected. Pierre turned to address the rest of them.

"I asked her to marry me, to be my queen, but she resists the inevitable." He gestured to me. "So, she can return. Though I am hurt, I am not so deranged as to kill her just because she rejected me. She needs time to think things over." Something crossed over his features. "I'm sure after some time reflecting at home, she will see her mistake."

Pierre turned his back on us, and I saw Sabine's eyes flicker, her grip on her sword tighten.

 I doubted she would hold any qualms in plunging her blade right through Pierre's heart. Silence hung heavy in the room, no one moving a muscle.

He couldn't possibly just be...letting us go?

Pierre turned, irritated. He addressed Darren.

"Well, on with you. Escort Princess Ophelia home. She has had a difficult time."

He moved away, the soldiers stepping aside as he walked towards the doorway, and with each step the slow steady hum of whispers rose around me. Laughs and song. Like they were celebrating something. What, I could not tell.

A chill settled in my body.

"Why?" I asked, softly. My voice rung through the silent room.

Pierre stopped. He did not look at me. "You will understand in time, Ophelia. And when you do, I will be waiting."

Without a backward glance, he stepped from the room. A few moments later, his guards followed.