Page 39 of The Heartless One
Jessamine licked her lips, wondering if this was the right time to say anything. But at the very least, she knew they needed more connections. And if Elissa was right, this was the person they needed desperately to make a connection with.
“There was a time when the old blood mattered,” Jessamine said quietly, and all eyes in the room turned to her. “My mother used to talk about the Pleasure District, not in hungry tones or with the idea that this was where she would disappear. The Pleasure District had a role in the kingdom. Political figures were brought here not to ply them with wine, drugs, and women, but to show them that Inverholm wasn’t just a Factory District. It was filled with artists that rivaled the greats.”
“Your mother is a wise woman.”
“She was.” Jessamine noted that Agnes caught the correction. Good. It was a detail she knew the old woman would remember. “I came here as a child. I don’t know if I met you then, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I had. A little dark-haired girl with bottomless eyes, that’s what one of the men here said to me. He claimed he couldn’t sell me, even if he put my price at the lowest he would take for a pound of flesh. My mother laughed and said it was good, because a girl like me would only sell her soul for the kingdom, not for a man.”
Agnes’s grandson shifted his grip on the chair, now clutching it like he needed the support. Agnes’s eyes narrowed on Jessamine, her fingerscurling a little harder around the arms of the chair. “This is a familiar story to me.”
“Is it?”
“But it’s not possible for you to be that little haunted girl.”
“Why not?”
The breath caught in Agnes’s throat, a little rattle that reminded everyone in the room just how old the woman was. “Because that little girl died.”
Jessamine moved to sit on one of the sofas, crossing her legs and spreading her arms out across the back. Rather than look at the old woman, she let her head fall back, her scar revealed and her gaze tracing along the wooden knots on the ceiling. “She did.”
“I saw her die. We all were watching the wedding down here. I saw the king in his dark colors and the princess with her wild, dark hair standing there. I saw him cut her throat and watched her body as it fell into the sea with a banner of blood marking her death. No one could survive that.”
“I didn’t say she survived it,” Jessamine whispered. “I agreed that she died.”
“No one cheats death.”
The sound of footsteps approached, and Jessamine’s view of the wood was obscured as Elric leaned over the back of the couch to loom over her. He braced his hands beside hers, staring down at her with those eyes that saw far too much. “Do you ever get tired of telling this story?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you want me to finish it?”
“If you’d like.”
She watched his jaw tick, then his gaze ripped from hers to stare into Agnes’s soul. “All the gods were dead. All of them except one, who was banished to a dark in-between realm until a gravesinger landed in his lap. And that god decided that death would not have her, because he wished to claim her for himself. Thus we are here, Agnes. We are here to give you an opportunity that you may never have again.”
“Which is?”
He looked down at Jessamine again, as though he couldn’t standlooking at anything other than her for too long. “Take back the Pleasure District. Help us find out what connection Fortuna Beaumont has to the king, and we will tie you not only to the most powerful coven this realm has ever seen, but to the queen who will take back her throne.”
“If I don’t?” Agnes’s voice cracked.
Elric smiled, and it was the most terrifying expression she’d ever seen. “Trust me, Agnes. You don’t want to know what I will do to all those who stand in her way.”
There was a long silence, and then Agnes’s shaking voice asked, “Haunted girl. What madness made you tie yourself to this brute?”
“I never wanted the pearls or the flowers that all the others brought. I didn’t know what I wanted until I met the Deathless One, and then I realized… I wanted someone who would destroy the world for me.” She lifted her head. Jessamine knew they looked a sight. Two dark figures, with equally messy hair and dangerous power at their fingertips. “I didn’t want someone who would just promise it. I wanted someone who would do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I was tired of having others constantly decide what my life would be. I wanted power, Agnes, just like you. So, do you want to be in this coven or not? Don’t think I won’t step on you if you get in my way. I will walk right over your cold body to get to my throne.”
Even Sybil stared at her in surprise, but Jessamine was coming to realize it was the truth. She didn’t want to play this game anymore. This game that the courts and nobility had made up wasn’t healthy for anyone. She wanted her throne back, and no one was going to continue standing in her way.
She’d been nice.
Now, she had no more nice left in her.
Agnes stared for a few more moments before she chuckled. The old, raspy voice filled the room with mirth as she laughed until she couldn’t breathe.
