In the Wake of the Ruined (The Siren Mage, #2)(24)

I felt ill.

Theodore yanked his hand away. “Did your mother give you those?”

Halla stood taller, her head tipping back regally. “Some of them. The oldest ones. But I do not wish to speak of my mother any longer—unless the mention of her will encourage you to honor our contract.”

Theodore moved like a soldier, back straight, steps sure, as he went to his armoire and pulled out a nightshirt. “Put this on.” He tossed it at Halla, whose cheeks flushed a sudden angry red.

“Please.” Halla’s fingers curled into the shirt. “I beg you to keep your word. I will be your servant. I will live as you see fit and honor you, but you must keep your word. Or so help me, I will—”

Theodore slammed his goblet onto his desk. “I know what you will do, Halla. I know you will call for my decimation. I will keep my word, but all I promised in that contract was that I would give you a child. I did not specify when.”

I sucked in a painful breath. I felt suddenly like I was falling. A screaming whine filled my ears, my chest constricted. The impact would be fateful. Every bone broken, every piece of me crushed.

I started moving, terrible as a reanimated corpse, crawling across the ledge toward the open window as a boiling burst of power started to leak through my stomach. I set a hand to the glass, when a loud knock came from the stateroom entrance.

Lachlan. I froze. Forced a deep breath.

Get Halla. Don’t kill her. Find Agatha.

Theodore said, “Dress yourself,” before I heard the creak and slam of the door.

With another steadying breath, I pushed the window open wider.

Halla had huddled herself on the settee, knees tucked into Theodore’s sleep shirt. Face buried in her hands. When the window’s hinge whined, she looked up with a yelp. She beheld me, cheeks splotchy and eyes red, and her entire body tightened with terror.

I did my best to look undaunted and menacing, despite how I’d shattered. It felt like I was breaking still, the shards of me cracking further, never to be rebuilt. It had been imprudent to cling to hope as I had, even if it had been a meager scrap.

“Hello, Halla,” I finally said, donning an unfriendly smile. “It seems congratulations are in order.”





8


Theodore


There had been no one at my door, but I took the opportunity to leave and cut my way across the quiet deck, from the stern to the bow.

I had the mad impulse to throw myself over the rail, to let myself sink through the open water, in some overdramatic bid to feel like the walls of the ship and the weight of my crown had not turned crushing.

Not a trace of the ceremony remained. No vines encircled the masts; the altar was gone. But the blood-coated ring Halla had given me still sat upon my finger. I stood alone on the forecastle, with nothing but glittering darkness above and below me, and worked the ring back and forth until it slipped free. I stared at it. I could still feel the disturbingly gentle press of Halla’s mouth on mine. The stain of her skin on my fingertips, the bumps of those strange scars.

It was clear she’d not given all of them to herself, not with how exact and encompassing they were. They stretched around her back, toward her spine. After days of combing through those books on magic, I knew the purpose of every mark etched into her body.

Each strip of flesh had paid for a spell.

The knot in my stomach only tightened as my understanding of Halla—and her diabolical, tenacious mother—grew. I set my forearms against the rail, holding Halla’s ring between my fingers. Then I let it go.

Armor clattered up the ladder behind me. The quick footsteps spoke of purpose. I kept my back to them, eyes on the bowsprit, and cleared my throat. “Not now.”

But the guard came to stand beside me.

“I said—”

“Just a quick word, Your Majesty.”

I jolted at that gruff voice. Whirled toward it. “Lach—you fucking bastard.” I reared back a fist and sent it right into his chin.

He took the hit well, snapping his head to the side, gripping the rail tightly with one hand. It gave me no satisfaction at all.

“I already apologized to you,” he finally said.

“That’s not enough.” I shook out my fist. “The council proscribed her because of you.”

Slowly, he straightened and dared to meet my eye. “I didn’t vote, Theo.”

“Precisely,” I spat. “A nay vote would have kept it even. Your silence broke the Godsdamned tie.”

Lachlan looked at the deck between us, somber. “And I’m sorry for it. I didn’t want to see her proscribed, Theo—for your sake—but she’s not…” He gave a guilty shake of his head. “Her presence was affecting you. And Eftan was trying to claim you were unfit to rule because of it—I thought no action was the best action.”

I swiped a hand down my face. “I find that hard to believe. Considering how you burst into my locked chambers and threatened me with a council-led unbinding.”

Lachlan’s eyes fell shut. “I apologize for that too.”

I glared out at the expansive darkness, defeat swallowing me up. “What in the hell are you doing here, Lach? You were supposed to stay back at the palace.”

He gave me a level look. “I’ve come to reroute the ship.”

“Reroute the—” I gave an angry, disbelieving huff. “Reroute it to where?”