The Kingdom's Crown (Inheritance of Hunger #3) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,120
hand to cover my grin but another giggle escaped.
"Forgive me, my lord," I said, not meaning it in the slightest. "But I think you forget who serves in Kimmery's army. Those beasts, as you call them, have their queen to thank for their recent celebrations, and you think you, a man who sought to cage them in camps from the start to the end of their lives, will call them to arms against the crown?"
Thomlinson blinked at me, and the councilmen to my right stirred and stared at one another.
I took a deep breath and stepped away from my mother, sharp magic stabbing at my palms, building like flashes of lightning in my veins.
"Men like you have been sucking Kimmery dry for generations, but it is women who made Kimmery powerful, and we will do so again," I said, my fingers sizzling brightly at my side.
Thomlinson gasped as the old stone floors of the throne room trembled. I planted my feet beneath me, forcing my magic down, and then smiled at the man in front of me. Roots broke through stone and several women screamed, but the bryony vines wound harmlessly up the walls, white flowers blooming. Bushes of deep red peonies sprouted around my mother's throne, and dark violets carpeted the ground, the air shimmering with floral perfume and magic.
"Kimmery will no longer remain pinned beneath your boot," I growled. "I will make certain our kingdom grows stronger than ever."
A high, agonized screech tore through the stunned audience.
Camellia, I realized, and with the thought of her name, pale pink camellia blossoms joined the white bryony blooms.
"Bryony!" Aric bellowed.
That same saccharine shade of pink was racing toward me, and I was still flooding the stone with magic when my sister tackled me to the floor.
"Cam—" My voice cut off with a choke, Camellia's thin fingers wrapping around my throat like iron, my lips parted on a cry as she squeezed.
She was screaming, eyes pressed shut, and little spots appeared in my vision at the same moment I realized she was screaming in pain, not anger. Our Hunger was scratching at one another, my magic pulsing around me, making her writhe even as her fingers tightened. I couldn't call my tiger out with our Hunger in the way, I could barely even think with the clashing chaos wracking through me.
My dagger burned at my hip, and my fingers found the hilt easily, drawing it out of its sheath and up to my sister's throat. She shook me, my vision blacking briefly as my head slammed against the stone again. My lungs were burning, legs kicking, and there was a thin trickle of Camellia's blood running from my dagger down to my hand and wrist.
Men were shouting, but even Aric couldn't reach us in this violent bubble of magic, the electricity of our fractious power flickering around us. Or maybe that was just me running out of air.
The energy rippled on the dagger at Camellia's throat, the rest of the room, the world, going fuzzy at the edges.
No, I thought.
And it wasn't because she was my sister. Or that I knew her rage belonged to the Hunger she'd let grow and squat inside of her like a parasite.
I didn't want to carry Camellia with me for the rest of my life. I didn't want to kill her and wake up at night with her face in my mind like I did with Emory, wondering if I might've made a different choice.
My hesitation cost me, the dagger dropping out of my fingers, landing against my numb chest. I released my magic too, eyelids fluttering at the brief relief when the scratching, clawing, burning feeling dissipated.
"Bryony!"
"Get her off!"
Weight lifted, but my eyelids were still too heavy to open, and pain surged, sudden flowers of color blooming and exploding behind my eyelids.
28
Bryony
There's no better proof of living than pain.
I woke with a breath, my eyes growing wide at the fire in my throat and lungs, the throb of my head.
"Don't move," Aric whispered, cold fingers landing delicately on my burning throat.
Even that was too much, my throat too bruised, and I whimpered, clutching soft fabric beneath me. Bedsheets.
A moment later, the excruciating ache eased, just enough for me to feel the moment that the swelling gentled enough for me to catch a solid breath.
"Oh," I moaned, the sound frayed.
"Shh," Aric said, still frowning, his brow tangled with deeper lines than ever, a little sweat dewing there.