Page 31 of The Dark Prince
I went cold as I imagined Isadora in her place, lying in a funeral pyre of flowers, her strawberry blonde hair fanned out around her head.
The man made a low groan, reminding us all of his presence. The king gave his men a significant look, and they dropped him into a heap on the floor and backed away. I brought my ax around, gripping the leather wrapped around the handle tightly. My fingers traced the intricate designs of wolves and ivy, a gift from Grisha, Puth’s wife. Their safety depended on my ability to do my duty and do it well. Isadora’s safety depended on it.
“You have defied the laws of this land and its king,” I began, my voice going cold and emotionless as it always did before a kill. Disassociating was the only way I got through any of it.
“By royal decree, I sentence you to death. May the gods old and new, have mercy on your soul.”
I tried to go away in my mind, but it was nearly impossible with Isadora only a few paces behind me. I longed to look at her face, to see how she felt with those wide, expressive eyes that gave her deepest feelings away.
I couldn’t do that and remain far away.
So I came back to look.
Isadora wasn’t gazing at me with horror or fear. She was frowning at the prisoner. The man on the floor was trying to speak, his eyes bulged and terrified. One broken hand was pointing at the king, but nothing coherent passed his lips.
If Isadora hadn’t been there, I would have simply killed him without seeing what was in front of me. But her troubled look forced me to take in the man on his knees, trying his damnedest to say something even as I stood over him with a blade bigger than his head.
“What are you waiting for?” The king spat at me, suddenly furious. “Kill him!”
I jerked and brought the ax down. The blade bit through his neck and severed his head immediately, sending blood everywhere. The spray covered my legs and ax, and painted a line across the hem of Isadora’s dress.
She turned and fled, white as a ghost.
The king clapped his hands, smiling at me as if I were a pet who’d just performed a clever trick. “Well done! I’m sure you feel relieved at being able to tell your people you have taken care of that roving band of miscreants.”
I frowned. “Yes, I suppose so.”
We stared each other down, Aella huffing and picking up the hem of her skirts so as not to trail them in the blood that was pooling all around us.
“If that is all?” I asked, a bit abruptly. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from returning home.”
The king smirked, shooting Aella a smug look. “Yes, you better run up after your wife. Wouldn’t want her to throw herself off from a tower window or anything else dramatic.”
Fear turned my veins to ice.
“As you say,” I grit out, bowing and already backing up toward the door. I turned to go, not hearing him protest. I couldn’t get out of my father’s presence fast enough.
“Tyr, one more thing.”
I paused with one hand on the door, my muscles burning to continue. I had to get to Isadora and make sure she was safe. I trusted Bessy to take care of her, but I didn’t know if my head of household had found her or not. What if Isadora got lost? What if she hurt herself in the west wing, and no one knew she was there? I would have to get Maddeus and the others to take care of the body. I wouldn’t make my servants deal with it. I—
I bore down on my spiraling thoughts.
“Yes?” I asked, turning my head back toward my father.
“I want to meet with her before I leave, at her earliest convenience. Alone,” he added sharply, his eyes narrowing.
I gripped the door frame harder.Over my dead body.“Fine,” I agreed, and burst out into the corridor. Uncaring how it looked to the servants, I took the steps two and three at a time. The image of Isadora’s face superimposed over the queen’s lifeless body taunted me with each step.
Fifteen
ISADORA
The ocean pounded against the side of the cliff, angry and unrelenting. It was a visual representation of the chaotic emotions churning inside of me at seeing Tyr so callously end a man’s life, duty or no. My eyes closed as I listened to the waves crash against rock, the wind cold biting against my face. The window was so far up from the ocean it was dizzying to look straight down.
“Goodness child! Is the king done already with you?”
I yelped as someone came behind me, discovering my little hiding spot. She was older than me, with a motherly air but no streaks of gray or white in her hair. Tears fell from my face, and she tutted and wrapped me in a big, fleshy hug.
