Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,18
mouth flattens into a thin, angry line. “You work for me—not the other way around.”
Pushing away from the door, Guy closes the distance between them. One hand fists the headboard while the other lands on the mattress, scant centimeters away from her leg. He leans down, invading her space. “I’ve been in this world longer than you’ve even been alive, Princess. I watched your sister be gunned down while you were still playing with dolls. I—”
“Don’t even speak Evie’s name.”
“—dealt with your father while you were banished to Scotland for safekeeping. And you know what I learned?” He removes his hand from the headboard to grip the pillow propping up her head. “I learned that while your time is finite, Holyrood is here, king after king, queen after bloody queen. So, you’re my queen for now. And if you die—like you almost did tonight after I explicitly told Clarke to get you out of London—there’ll always be another one of you to shuffle into place.”
CRACK!
I watch, in startled silence, as Guy lifts a hand to cup his left cheek.
She slapped him.
Bloody fucking hell, she slapped him.
Mouth dry, I step forward. “Your Majesty—”
“I want him out.” Her furious stare doesn’t leave my brother’s face. Never wavering, completely honed in. “Today.”
Guy’s lips peel back in a snarl. “Holyrood is mine.”
“Wrong,” she snaps, gripping the blanket like it’s the only thing keeping her from lunging forward and clawing out his eyes, “it’s mine. My ancestor founded Holyrood and yours bent the knee. Which means that your oath belongs to me and you do as I say.”
“Guy”—I throw him a hard look—“fucking apologize.”
His shoulders heave with a sharp breath. “No.”
I’m going to murder him. If the queen doesn’t do him in first, I’m going to murder him. “Just say the damn words,” I bark, my patience waning fast. “You lost your temper and the queen—”
“Is the queen.”
But it’s not Guy who spits this out but Queen Margaret herself.
With one hand cradling her wounded stomach, and her face red from exertion, she lifts her chin so that she never severs eye contact with my brother. “We’ve met twice now,” she utters in a voice pitched so low that she’s nearly inaudible, “and I’ve walked away both times with the same opinion: you are a bully, Guy Priest. If our lives had crossed paths while my father was still breathing, I’d have no choice but to put up with you. But he’s dead and I’m not, and so the only time we will ever meet again is on the day of your funeral.” She pauses, and an almost feral light glitters in her blue gaze. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, I won’t spit on your grave.”
No mercy.
Guy wanted her compliant and instead she’s revealed her claws.
It’d be impressive, if not for the fact that she’s just gone ahead and tossed a bomb into Holyrood’s very core.
“That isn’t a good idea.”
At the sound of my voice, the queen ends her staring contest with my brother and swiftly turns on me. “It’s my decision.”
“You don’t understand our politics.”
“It’s my final decision, Mr. Priest.”
“Holyrood is a powder keg waiting to blow.” Striding forward, I snatch Guy by the shirt and shove him behind me, then square off against the woman determined to take us all down with her. “Our father was murdered, and you know what happened? His second-in-command exiled us to Paris for five goddamn years.”
“Maybe he hoped to keep you all safe.”
“Or maybe he wanted all of this for himself.” Slashing an arm at the luxurious room, I think of that night, weeks ago, when I came across Paul, Jude, and Benji circling Saxon. There was no loyalty in the drive of their fists on my brother’s flesh, nor in the gun that Paul leveled on the back of Saxon’s head. There’d been only greed, even if no one else saw it but me. “Remove the leader from his pride and the vultures will swarm.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know any of us. You’ve been sheltered—”
“Sheltered?” Disdain practically drips from her expression. “How sheltered am I when my father was murdered in front of me? Or was my innocence only tarnished the second that I watched Clarke fall? Or, I know! It was the moment when I crawled down the hallway of my home, bleeding out and almost dead, and realized that no one can be trusted.”
I meet her gaze, allowing the answering silence to drown us both until . . . “And Rowena Carrigan?” I ask,