There was a long gap of silence and then, “Is Ellie really okay?”
I opened one eye. Maybe the gods were good to me. “Yes. She is. And I want to take you to her, but we have to leave.”
“What…what about Papa?”
Biting my lip, I looked over my shoulder to the room his papa currently bled out in. I turned back to the door. “Your papa had to…take a nap.” A nap? I cringed.
“He’ll be mad when he wakes and can’t find me,” Nate whispered through the door. “He’ll give me another shiner or worse.”
Yeah, well, he wasn’t going to be giving anyone a shiner ever again. “He won’t come after you. I promise. The Ladies of Mercy will keep you safe from him. Just like they’re keeping your sister safe.”
I heard nothing from the other side of the door, and there was a good chance I would have to kick it in. I didn’t want to traumatize the child any further, but… I stepped back.
The door cracked open, and a waifish face appeared. “I wanna see my sister.”
Relief swept through me. I smiled down at the child—a real smile, not one I’d been taught. I offered him a hand. “Then let’s go see your sister.”
Nibbling on his lip, his gaze darted back and forth between my hand and face. He came to some sort of decision and placed his hand in mine. The contact of his warm skin jarred me, but I forced myself to get over it and curled my hand around his.
I led him out of the hall and walked straight past the front chamber, not allowing him to look toward the desk. I unlocked the door and ushered him out onto the stoop.
Molly was still there, fidgeting with the laces of her corset. She turned, raising her eyebrows as she glanced between the young boy and me. Her sunken eyes lifted to mine.
I pressed the bag of coins into her hand. “I wouldn’t linger outside this door for very long,” I whispered as Nate tugged on my arm. “You understand?”
Molly’s eyes darted to the closed door behind me. “I…I understand.” Her slim fingers curled around the pouch.
“Good.” I stepped out from under the alcove into the too-bright sunlight and didn’t look back.
Not once as I led the boy away.
“I see I was correct.” Ezra noted the moment I sat across from her in the carriage after depositing the boy beside Marisol.
“About what?”
Ezra flicked a finger toward my chest. I looked down, seeing dark spots sprinkled across the freckles there. I sighed.
“Did you kill that man?”
Smoothing out the skirts of the gown, I crossed my ankles. “I believe he slipped and fell upon my blade.”
“Was it his throat that fell upon your blade?”
“Odd, right?”
“Odd, indeed.” Ezra tilted her head to the side as she stared blankly at me. “That happens quite often around you.”
“Unfortunately.” I arched a brow at my stepsister. “Men with careless fists should be more mindful of where they step.”
A faint smile appeared on Ezra’s face. “You know, you do frighten me a little.”
I turned to the carriage window as we rolled down the sunny street. “I know.”
Chapter 9
Fractured sunlight streamed through the thickly branched elms as I walked through the forest toward the lake. What I had done to Nor threatened to haunt each step. I felt nothing with just a little bit of…something.
Something I didn’t like.
Something I didn’t want to think about.
I pictured the smile of relief on Nate’s face, how toothy and contagious it had been when he saw his sister waiting for him at the orphanage along the Cliffs of Sorrow. I tried to use that to replace the image of his father’s shocked, wide eyes. I thought of the joyous rush the boy made toward his sister. I watched through the carriage window instead of dwelling on the utter lack of remorse I felt for ending a man’s life.
Or I tried to, at least. My stomach gave another sharp twist as I passed the musky-scented wildflowers growing into thick bushes at the base of the elms. What is wrong with you? My voice echoed in my thoughts, over and over. Something had to be, right? My palms dampened, and I carefully made my way over the branches that had fallen, and the sharp rocks hidden under the foliage—hidden just like the wake of death I was leaving behind.
Something beautiful and powerful…
I didn’t feel like either of those things.
Two mortals had come for me since the night I’d failed, having learned my identity and thinking to use it to gain whatever they wanted. There were three more, including Nor, that had met death at the end of my blade. None of them were good people. They were all as unworthy as I was. Abusers. Murderers. Rapists. Death would’ve found them eventually. Five had died by my hand on the orders of my mother, and they didn’t include the Vodina Isles Lords. Fourteen. I had ended fourteen lives.
What is wrong with you?
My stomach churned again, and I blew out a ragged breath. Barely any sunlight penetrated this deep into the forest, and it was slightly cooler here, but my skin was sticky like those wood floors in that chamber. Tacky with sweat and blood. I was half tempted to pull the cape and gown off now. I could. I knew no one else would enter these woods. Everyone was afraid of the Dark Elms—even Sir Holland. But I kept my clothing on because walking in a slip or nude through the woods just seemed odd, even for me—
A sudden rustling of bushes stopped me mid-step. The sound…it had come from behind me. Spinning, I scanned the trees. There weren’t just spirits in the Dark Elms. Bears and large cave cats called the forest home, too. As did barrats, which grew to ungodly sizes, wild boars, and—
A shock of brown and red burst out from the foliage ahead, startling me. I stumbled and then jerked back against the trunk of the nearest elm, heart dropping at the flash of russet fur breaking through the trees. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
It was a kiyou wolf.
They were the largest breed of wolves in all the kingdoms. I’d often heard their calls in the woods, and sometimes even from within the castle. But I’d only seen one up close; when I was half the size I was now. The white wolf.
Every single muscle in my body locked. I didn’t dare make a sound or breathe too deeply. Kiyou wolves were notoriously fierce, as wild as they were beautiful, and not exactly friendly. If someone got too close to them, they usually paid dearly for it, and I prayed it didn’t see me. That it wasn’t hungry. Because I hadn’t even reached for my blade. There was no way I could kill a wolf. A rat the size of a wild boar? Yes. That I could stab all day and night.
The wolf rushed over a moss-blanketed boulder, its hefty paws kicking up loose soil and small rocks. It took several shocking leaps past where I stood, seemingly unaware of me. I still didn’t move as it went to jump again. My breath caught when it stumbled. The wolf’s legs simply crumpled beneath it, and it went down onto its side with a heavy thud.
Then I saw what had caused the creature to collapse.
My heart sank at the sight. An arrow protruded from where its chest rose and fell in ragged, too-shallow breaths. Its fur wasn’t a reddish-brown. That was blood. A lot of blood.
The wolf tried to gain its footing, but it couldn’t get its legs under itself. I glanced in the direction it had come. Wayfair. The wolf must’ve gotten too close to the edges of the forest and had been spotted by one of the archers stationed on the inner curtain wall. Anger twisted the knot of sorrow weighing heavily in my chest. Why would they shoot such a creature when they were safely perched high above? And even if the wolf had been stalking someone, I still didn’t see the need. They could’ve made a noise or struck the ground near the wolf. They didn’t need to do this.