The Kingdom's Crown (Inheritance of Hunger #3) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,121
kicked me as well as strangled me?
Camellia!
I made to sit up, and a strong hand pinned me down.
"Damnit, girl, don't you listen?" Aric barked.
"Gentle," Cresswell growled, his fingers digging into my shoulders in contrast to his warning at Aric.
Aric huffed, and cold magic continued to trickle into my throat, soothing some of the headache. I swallowed and it hurt, but Aric sighed in relief.
"Take a break," I mouthed.
I didn't expect him to listen to me, but Aric sagged back with a brief nod.
We were in our bedroom, which surprised me. Cresswell's tense hands slipped beneath my shoulders, helping me to sit up. Cosmo was quick to hurry forward, sliding in behind me, his arms wrapping around my chest but leaving room for Cresswell to press to my shoulder.
I pointed around us, and Aric leaned forward, pressing his head to my breastbone, his shoulders shaking. I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or relief or something worse. I looked to the others, and it was Wendell who finally licked his lips and spoke.
"Aric used magic to keep your heart beating. And Camellia had cracked your skull on the floor, so healing that was next. He got you breathing before we brought you up here, but we weren't…we weren't sure if—"
A throat cleared from the doorway, Nora there with Morgan, both their faces pale. "We'll go and tell the queen."
"I'll do it. I have to go anyway," Aric grunted, pulling back.
My hands flew up to reach for him, and Aric paused, his breath catching and his hands covering mine where I'd grabbed for him low on his neck.
It was gratitude, that look in his eye. He'd lost Charlotte, I remembered, and now he was just grateful he hadn't lost me too.
"Go?" I asked, just breathing the word to keep from straining.
"They have Camellia in a cell. I'm going to make sure she can't get out of it," Aric said darkly.
"A cell?" I winced slightly, and Aric moved one of my hands to my own throat.
"I'm running low," he said, and I drew up a little of my own magic so Aric could guide it to healing me. I was also running low, having foolishly wasted some on that display in the throne room. It was the first time in months that I felt that hollow ache in my belly, and Aric and I both drew away quickly.
"Camellia's…her attack on you was treason, Bryony," Cresswell murmured. "Your mother ordered her contained. Amos chose the dungeons."
"We told them to post two-natured soldiers, but I want to be certain Camellia won't be able to use her Hunger to grab onto any guards or to free herself," Aric said. He drew my hands up to his lips and pressed firm kisses to both my palms, breathing me in for a moment before releasing me and moving off the bed. Owen took his place.
"Wait," I said, rising up to my knees. I wobbled a little, sore and shaken, gazing around at each of them. "It's…done?"
I'd been named successor, and Camellia had…she'd tried to kill me. She was imprisoned, and I didn't think there was much hope for her if she was cut off from men to feed her Hunger.
"The council pressed the doctor and the midwife," Wendell said, one hand reaching beneath my skirt to stroke my calf. "I think perhaps they were hoping you wouldn't…Anyway, Camellia isn't pregnant. The midwife said she didn't think your sister could conceive in her state."
"It's done, Mistress," Owen said, smoothing strands of my hair back.
It wasn't how I expected to feel. I'd thought I would feel victorious, happy at least. Relieved even.
Perhaps there was some relief. Mostly though, I felt tired and heartbroken. I looked down at my wrist, and there was a smear of rust-red there, as if someone had tried to wipe Camellia's blood off my hand and only succeeded in rubbing it in. But I hadn't killed my sister when I had the chance.
She hadn't killed me either.
"Rest, I'll be back as soon as Simon and I have a solution," Aric said.
"We'll bring tea. And broth. And ice water," Nora rattled off, dragging Morgan from the door.
Aric leaned in again, despite his words of leaving, kissing my forehead and resting there. He let me clutch his collar, one of my arms spreading out, and soon I was enveloped in arms and muscle, lips and hands grazing every bit of my skin my Chosen could find.
We'd succeeded, and it wasn't joyful or celebratory, but it was done.