Page 87 of The Dark Prince
Tyr grabbed Toke by his collar. “My father’s alive? And you’re just thinking about telling me now?”
Toke didn’t appear fazed by being manhandled by his lord. “The men and I were combing the grounds and the castle as Maddeus ordered. He had dragged himself halfway back into the forest, under some bushes. We believe he meant to die there.”
“But he didn’t,” I clarified, shooting a glance at Tyr. His face was again an unreadable mask.
Toke gazed at the ground, shuffling his feet. His tiny braids fluttered in the wind, small coins and other trinkets woven in his hair clinking together softly.
“No, he didn’t. We settled him down in the entrance hall. He refused to go any further. He’s asking for you.”
Tyr didn’t say a word. He simply pushed Toke aside and stalked toward the castle. I turned back to the crowd with a forced smile on my face, hoping I didn’t look deranged.
“Lord Black and I must attend to something,” I offered to them all. “Please excuse us. Don’t stop the party on our account.”
I fled into the castle before I could take in anyone’s reaction.
The entrance was dark, with all the torches extinguished except for one. Tyr’s men were all crouched around a pile of furs on the floor, hats in hands or propped up on swords, mixed non-discriminately with the surviving royal guards in resigned stances. Bennett, the captain of the guard, gave me a somber look. Tyr stood over them all at the foot of the pile, staring down at his father.
I stayed back, not wanting to intrude.
“It is over, then.”
The voice was weak and garbled; gone was the king’s booming articulation and intimidating air. He laid there on the floor, naked under a few cloaks and furs haphazardly thrown around him. Judging by the mixture of materials, the soldiers and Tyr’s men had worked together to give the dying king some modicum of dignity.
He was muttering something to Tyr and Bennett … something that must upset him.
“No. She doesn’t want—”
More mumbling, then Tyr pulled back, scowling. He turned toward me.
“My father would like a word with you, if you consent. He claims it’s hisdying wish.”
I knew the vitriol in Tyr’s voice was just how he reacted to having no control in a situation.
I stepped forward and as I did, Bennett and Tyr backed away.
The king beckoned me closer, his breathing coming in shorter, gasping wheezes. There was blood everywhere, and I vaguely wondered if I could send Toke or Leif to ride out and fetch Arne; then I remembered the man was half-comatose from healing everyone else.
No, it was the king’s turn to pay the price this time.
“Closer.”
I hesitated only because I knew there was no love lost between us, not because his wounds disgusted me.
“You were not my choice.”
I struggled not to laugh in his face. The man was dying and still he had words to spare to insult me.
“I don’t care,” I shot back, not caring what he thought anymore. That small, frightened girl who’d entered this hall to speak with him felt like she was a lifetime away. “He’s done everythingfor you,” I argued. “He’s carried your sins his entire life. How dare you put one more burden on his shoulders? Even in death, you do nothing but hurt him.”
His lips thinned in displeasure, even as blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “You didn’t let me finish,” he insisted, gasping for air.
I closed my eyes and reminded myself he was dying.
“Go on,” I urged him. It will all be over soon.
He took a few steadying breaths. “You weren’t my choice then. You are now.”
The king fumbled with his hands, then grabbed mine with a surprising amount of strength. Something hard and made of metal was pushed into my palm. My fingers curled instinctively around it, his light blue eyes meeting mine. I couldn’t tell if they watered with regret, pain, or even hate.
