what Silas had said. He’d told me the Darkest Knights’ destruction was absolute. I wanted to vomit at the thought of Silas enduring absolute destruction.
The horror felt like it went on for an eternity. I tried to will Silas into living, into surviving whatever had just happened. Then I felt instantly guilty that my thoughts were of him and not anyone else. Saul still had so much living to do, and Sullivan was such a gentle soul that being in the room alone was probably enough to ruin him. And maybe my parents weren’t perfectly content, but that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve more time to try.
After both too much and too little time, the cries and shouts died down and gave way to sick laughter. That’s how I knew they were leaving. These men had finished their task and were now joking about their success. It was disgustingly satisfied, the sound of a job well done, the sound of many congratulations.
Then I heard another sound: crackling. We watched them ride off, making sure we could no longer hear the horses before daring to even stand.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please.” Then I risked opening my eyes.
The sound had made it clear, but I still couldn’t believe they’d set fire to the house. We hurried from the garden, rushing though I worried our opportunity to help had passed. I pushed down my fear with each step, desperate to get closer, to see if anyone had lived. Only one corner of the house was in flames. There was a chance we could save anyone who was still breathing.
I stopped in front of the main door, afraid to step inside, terrified of what I was going to see.
“Mother?” A whimper came from the shadowy corner by the front door.
“Scarlet? Is that you? Oh, thank goodness!” She ran over, clutching her child as she wept violently. “My girl! I still have my girl!”
I looked at the house. Nothing stirred. Was she the only one left?
“Were those the Darkest Knights?” I asked, though I was already quite sure.
Lady Eastoffe whipped her head over to me. “How do you even know about them?” she asked, turning back to touch every inch of Scarlet’s face, unable to believe she was still there.
“Valentina. Silas.”
She shook her head, turning back to her daughter. “I thought they’d let us live in peace if we left, but I was wrong.”
This made no sense. “Why would they do this to you?”
“Oh, Mother, they came in with masks down and swords drawn, stabbing at anyone in their way, even the maids. I don’t know what happened to me. . . . I froze. I couldn’t fight.”
“You aren’t supposed to fight. You know that,” her mother urged. “You’re supposed to run!”
“A man took me by my shoulders, he held me for a moment, and I thought he was just going to kill me slowly. But then he grabbed me by the wrist and threw me outside. I tried to run, but I still couldn’t move. I crawled into the bushes and hid. I wanted to fight, Mother. I wanted to hurt them.”
Lady Eastoffe held her tighter.
“They spared me, and I don’t know why! And I watched . . . I saw . . .” She broke into sobs, unable to speak of it anymore.
I shook my head. I didn’t understand any of this. Hitching up my skirt, I moved to go inside.
“What are you doing?” Lady Eastoffe asked.
“Checking for survivors.”
Her blue eyes were hollow. “Hollis, listen to me. There won’t be any.”
I swallowed. “I have . . . I have to . . .”
She shook her head. “Hollis, please,” Lady Eastoffe said, her voice alone a clear warning. “That will do you more harm than good.”
The air of certainty around her words, as if this was nothing new, chilled me, despite the heat from the flames beginning to engulf the entire east wing of the manor. Maybe it was only in my head that we waited so we could live and go back to find survivors. Maybe it was already in hers that she knew we wouldn’t.
“I have to . . .”
She lowered her head as I pressed forward.
I walked into the house and was almost immediately run over by a servant carrying golden plates, running as if his life depended upon it. I sucked in a breath of hope, believing someone must have made it, but I instantly regretted the move as I coughed over the smoke.
Turning toward the great hall, where only moments