Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,63
she cannot, is there a better use for her, like the old king-consort said? Killed to quiet the mist.”
“Those pages you showed me could be the rambling of a drunkard on his deathbed.” Katharine shakes her head. “No. I will keep my word. And I believe that she will keep hers.”
“Very well. But what will you tell Mirabella about the suitor? He is her friend. She will not be pleased with what you have planned for him.”
“I know. But she will understand. We are at war. And his family’s crime against us was personal.”
By the time Mirabella learns about the rebellion prisoners, Billy is already out of the cells. Katharine has ordered him trussed and shackled, and made to serve.
“Where is he?” she demands when Bree cuts her off in the hall.
“Mira, it is at Queen Katharine’s pleasure.”
“Where is he?” she asks louder, and skirts around Bree’s raised hands. Through the open doors of the throne room, she hears snickering and laughter. Shouted commands. Bree grasps her arm as lightning crackles across her knuckles.
“Mira, it could have been worse.”
Mirabella pulls free and bursts into the throne room. The sight before her makes her instantly furious. So furious that every torch in the room blazes, hot enough to scorch the walls.
Katharine lies reclined, her leg slung over the arm of the throne. She eats a pastry off a tray resting upon Billy’s back. He is bent over, his arms tied behind him painfully, elbows used to secure the platter. At his wrists are soft leather manacles. His feet are connected by a short length of chain. And he has been gagged.
Mirabella storms up the aisle, passing Arrons and members of the Black Council as they laugh and nibble pastries of their own. She reaches into the first lamp she passes and draws the fire into her hand until it is a roiling ball. Then she casts it at the floor before Katharine’s feet.
Everyone in the room gasps and recoils at the scorched stone. Guards rush to the aisle and cross their spears before her, protecting the queen.
Mirabella dares not look into Billy’s face. If she sees the way they make him suffer, the last of her restraint will fail.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“What do you mean, sister?” Katharine asks, righting herself to sit up straight.
“This.” Mirabella gestures to Billy, his brow wet with sweat, his face straining against the cloth gag as he struggles to keep from spilling the tray. “What are you doing to him?”
“Well, I have not killed him yet.”
Around the throne room, the Black Council laughs. All but Luca and Rho.
“Mirabella,” Luca says softly. “This former suitor was arrested along with two war-gifted rebels last night. It is thought they were here to disrupt the parade. Perhaps even to kidnap you.”
Mirabella’s eyes flicker to Billy’s. Two rebels and the suitor. But not Arsinoe. They do not have Arsinoe.
She takes a breath. Collects herself. Looks sideways at each of the guards.
“Get your spears out of my path.”
The guards obey, in no hurry to be scorch-marked like the floor, and Mirabella walks to Billy. She kneels and pulls the gag from his mouth.
“Are you all right?”
“He is fine,” Katharine answers.
“He is not fine.” Where the gag rested against his skin, angry, red blisters have begun to rise. At his wrists, too, where they touch the leather of his bonds, deep red welts have formed. It has all been tainted with some kind of poison.
“It is not lethal,” Katharine says.
“At least not yet,” Genevieve adds.
“They killed my father,” Billy growls. He fixes his eyes on Rho, across the room. “She killed my father!” He struggles up and charges at her, sending the tray and all its contents crashing to the floor. Rho does not so much as flinch. He barely makes it three strides before the guards are on him, shoving the blunt ends of their spears into his gut and striking him across the shins.
“Stop it!” Mirabella cries.
“Where is he?” Billy shouts from on his knees. “Where is my father?”
“He is here somewhere,” Genevieve says, and chuckles. “Or at least his bones are. Somewhere in the river.”
Mirabella watches with pity as Billy’s expression crumples. There are so many bruises on his face that he is almost unrecognizable.
“From what I understand,” Katharine says. “Rho nearly carved him in two. From lung to heart. Perhaps if you ask her nicely, she will take you to the place by the shore where she ordered him dumped.”