"All we asked was for one small thing," she said and her hand moved to his mouth, fingers tracing across his lips. "And yet you‑"
"Betrayed us," the Prince finished, and the Princess sank her other hand into Joseph's hair, tilting his head back. Now all he could see was them. And all he could feel was their knife at his throat.
"But I‑‑" he said. "I didn't. I took him out deep into the woods, just as you said. I just‑‑I couldn't kill him. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wanted to but I‑‑"
"You meant well," the Prince said soothingly and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
"You tried," the Princess said and pushed a finger inside his mouth, tracing where her brother's kiss went.
"Yes," Joseph gasped. "I left him and I'm sure he perished. No one could survive in all that snow." They were looking down at him and the smiles on their faces were heated, hungry. He looked at the couches and then back at them, hoping.
"You have missed us," the Princess said, voice warm, honey‑sweet, and he looked at her.
"Yes," he said, and stared at the diamonds woven into her hair and onto the sheer robe beneath the gilded one she always wore. Beneath that shone a glimpse of golden skin and he wanted her so badly, had missed her so much. "You know I love you so‑‑"
"Not enough," the Princess said and the knife at his throat cut into his skin.
"I‑‑" Joseph said, staring at the Prince with surprise on his face as the skin on his neck widened, stretching, and blood began to flow. "Please. I love you."
"Not enough," the Prince said, and twisted the knife, pushing deeper.
Joseph breathed his last breath and his blood spilled over the Prince and Princess's hands, dripped down onto the floor. They pushed his body away from theirs at the same time and stood looking at it for a moment, at Joseph's wide startled forever opened eyes, at the knife dug deep into his throat.
"We'll send our brother‑‑" the Prince said.
"‑‑a gift," the Princess said.
"A flask‑‑"
"Of special wine?"
"Very special," the Prince said.
"From the Pale. A mother's gift‑‑"
"To her only son."
"Yes," they both said.
The Prince held out his hand and the Princess took it, stepping neatly around the body on the floor as they headed toward the door.
"There's a washwoman," the Prince said.
"The one who always cries?"
"Yes."
"She'll never be able to remove this stain," the Princess said, and pointed to Joseph's blood drying in a dripping trail along the hem of her gown. "But still, she must try. I'll have her summoned."
"Save some tears for me," the Prince said and she smiled at him. They walked out of the room together. They did not close the door behind them.
Chapter Fourteen
The day David was crowned consort was beautiful‑‑flowers blooming everywhere, sprinkled on the streets and woven through the trees, the sky empty of clouds and a brilliant shade of blue. He had woken up early and looked out the window, stared at the perfect looking sky and felt the breeze that blew into the room curl around his skin as if it was a living thing. As if it was measuring him, marking him. When he was being dressed he heard Judith out in the hall talking to someone, her voice rising as she talked about cost, of wizards and witch women that had been paid to make the day perfect. "It's what Michael deserves," she said and he touched the saucer that had held a cup of tea that had been brought for him, watched the roses on it continue to shine bright.
Michael came in to see him once, a mischievous grin on his face as he peeked around the door and said, "Look at you," his voice shining and proud. The dressers all giggled and blushed.
"Bad luck for you to see him beforehand," the maid who wasn't one said. She was standing by the door watching as she always did, those flat eyes never showing any emotion at all.
Michael shook his head at her and then grinned wider, darted across the room and pulled David close, kissing his forehead, his mouth, cupping his chin with one hand. "I make my own luck,"
he said and winked at David, then darted back out of the room. The dressers giggled again and talked animatedly for a moment, then fell silent as David didn't join in, just stood patiently waiting for them to finish. They did so in silence and after they left the maid who wasn't one gestured for him to sit down, combed his hair out and then pulled it tightly, holding it in one hand as she wove strands of diamonds though it with the other. Her fingers moved quickly, and he was glad there was no mirror in which he could watch her work.
"Thank you," he said when she was done but she'd already turned away, walking across the room to hold the door open for him. As he stepped through it he saw Judith in the hallway, watched her look at the maid who wasn't one and saw the maid nod once, slowly. He saw Judith nod back, a satisfied smile on her face, before she vanished into the throng of nobility that had been chosen to escort him to the cathedral.
When they arrived at the cathedral David waited outside, a noblewoman he didn't know standing on his right side, a nobleman he didn't know standing on his left, both of them so happy to be where they were that he could feel it. He glanced at each of them, at the smiles on their faces.
When the great doors were opened and the trumpets sounded he walked inside, down the length of the church to where Michael was waiting.
Michael's voice was strong as he declared that David was his now and would be forever more.
"This I vow before God and you," he said and turned toward him. Behind Michael's head a great window showed sun and sky. David looked out the window and thought of a day when sun and sky had swirled together in his mind, created a color he'd known he'd never see again. He looked out the window and wished for what he knew would never be. He repeated Michael's words back to him and watched a smile bloom across his face. He thought about someone else's smile. Every time he took a breath he could feel himself being held securely, bound so that nothing inside him could leak out. His eyes didn't sting at all, stayed clear and focused on Michael's face.
Two songs were sung after a priest had blessed them and promised them joy forever, a chorus of voices singing praise, and then Michael took his hand and the two of them walked outside. The sun was still shining and the sky was still a lovely endless blue. People pressed flowers into David's hands as he and Michael walked up a flight of stairs toward a decorated archway where everyone who'd gathered could see them. He looked at the flowers, at how they bloomed beautifully, every color he'd ever seen alive and cradled in his hands. He'd always wanted to live in a world like this, full of color and light and happy people who weren't afraid to look at him.
And now he did. He held the flowers tightly, closed his eyes when Michael placed a crown on his head and then kissed him, listened to the crowd roar their approval, their joy. He had never felt so empty. So alone.
A banquet was held in the evening, the castle filled with nobles from every corner of the kingdom. So many people had come for the ceremony that the banquet was held outside in a pavilion Michael had specially built for the occasion. He and David sat at the far end of the pavilion, up on a raised dais so everyone could see them. Those closest to Michael, those he trusted most, were seated right below them. David was not surprised when Judith sat down next to him, her smile warm when she greeted Michael and fading when she turned to him.
During a lull, when they were waiting for servants to come with the next course and Michael was talking to the person sitting on his other side, a pleased smile on his face, Judith passed him the wine and said, low‑voiced, angry, "He's given you everything and yet you just sit there, silent and far away. He deserves more from you."