Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,59

Junior have been captured within the capital, Katharine extends her hand.

“Give them back.”

Rho shrinks.

“I know,” Katharine says. “But you must. You are not a true vessel. You are not a queen. I will give them to you again, when they are needed.”

Rho nods, and Katharine cups her cheeks almost like a kiss. The dead queens slide out of Rho’s mouth and into her own, down her throat like trout released into a stream.

With the boost to her gift gone, Rho collapses to one knee. She wipes her face, breath heavy.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, Queen Katharine.”

“Then take me to the prisoners.”

Rho leads her down, through the gate that leads below, the cold, stale air blanketing them even against the warmth of their torch.

“I feel strange,” Rho says quietly.

“That is to be expected.” Katharine watches the priestess as they go. The more steps they take, the more Rho seems to return to herself. The warrior is strong. It is why Katharine chose her. She is strong enough perhaps to satisfy the dead sisters and keep their minds off Mirabella. At least for now.

The prisoners are housed on the first level beneath the castle. Two warriors, one with a crossbow bolt sticking out of her shoulder and another whose back and side have been badly burned. The smell of burned flesh wrinkles Katharine’s nose before she sees the extent of it: one whole arm of the warrior is charred, her clothing fused with her skin. Half of her hair is gone as well, and the scalp is bright red and weeping.

“Have the healers mix a salve,” she says to the guard. “And get someone to remove the bolt. Rebels they may be, but they are still our subjects and will receive treatment.”

“What about me?”

Katharine turns.

“I’m not your subject.”

“Indeed, you are not.” She looks into the eyes of William Chatworth Junior, the first suitor she kissed. He has been wounded as well, and favors his leg. “So it really is you. I admit I am surprised. I thought my commander might have caught a decoy.”

“Your commander,” he says, and shudders. “What is she? What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing.” Katharine gestures to Rho, who looks completely well again, red hair shining beneath her white hood.

“When she took me, there was something. . . .”

“You must have been mistaken. Moonlight plays tricks on the eye. As does panic.” She looks over the faces of her queensguard, and sees how they avoid Rho’s gaze. The furtive glances they send her way. Katharine will have to speak with them. Assure them that their commander is nothing to fear.

“What were you doing here?” Katharine asks.

“Touring the capital,” he spits.

Katharine laughs. “You are brave. We will see for how long. Whatever you were planning, it will not happen now. And my foster family, the Arrons, will be most pleased to discover that we have captured the son of the man who murdered Natalia.”

“My father? He murdered—”

“Yes. He strangled her. Perhaps to aid your escape.”

Katharine narrows her eyes. He seems so bewildered. Disbelieving.

“If he . . .” He hesitates as if unable to even utter the words. “He didn’t do it for me. Where is he now?”

“Where is he now?” Katharine turns on her heel and stalks back down the corridor. She gestures to Rho as she passes. “She killed him.”

THE PARADE

Only five queensguard soldiers were lost in the capture of the rebels. With the dead queens’ help, Rho had foiled whatever plan the rebellion had hatched, and now Katharine has Arsinoe’s boy. But the fact that the rebellion had a plan at all. . . .

“The black pearls, my queen?” Her maid Giselle holds them up against her neck. “Perhaps the black pearl choker?”

“Not now,” Katharine says, and pushes free. “Send me my Commander of Queensguard.”

“Yes,” Giselle replies, and hurries to the door.

“Wait.” Katharine takes a breath. Giselle has been her maid since Greavesdrake. She has always been kind. Almost a friend. “I did not mean to be brusque. Do not worry about the pearls. I wear no jewels today. Only armor.”

The maid dips her head, and Katharine knows she is forgiven.

Not long after, the guards at her door announce Rho’s arrival, and the tall priestess strides into the room.

“The prisoners remain silent,” she says before Katharine can ask.

“Yes. I expected them to.”

“But if the Chatworth boy is here, you can be sure that the Bear Queen is here as well.”

“Do not call her that,” Katharine snaps. “Double the queensguard presence at the parade. Nothing must go wrong. Have you”—she hesitates—“have