Dividing Eden (Dividing Eden #1)(73)

Carys stepped back and grabbed the cabinet as she shook her head. “That’s not true, Mother. Andreus is the one who has the attacks.”

“Is it any wonder I believed those were the signs? But I was wrong and the Xhelozi are calling.” Her mother sighed, fluffed her pillow, and lay back down. Smiling, she pulled the silk covers over herself. “When you crack the orb of Eden, they will destroy us all.”

Mother was still crazy, Carys told herself as she watched the Queen close her eyes. Her expression was tranquil and she refused to speak or look at Carys again despite Carys’s attempts to rouse her.

The words were crazy. Carys wasn’t cursed. She had spent her entire life shielding her brother. She had been told it was her duty to see him unharmed. Two halves of the same whole—only she had been born normal while he was not.

“Did the Queen awaken, Your Highness?” Oben asked, but Carys pushed past him without answering and went out the door.

Cursed.

She shivered and wiped a line of sweat off her forehead as she walked quickly through the halls. Every guard she passed, every footstep she heard, made her speed her steps.

Cursed.

Was she?

Her father and brother were dead. Her mother was crazy. Her brother had turned against her. Larkin was hiding in the darkness below the castle in fear for her life. And soon she would begin to lose control of everything as the need for the red bottles kicked in.

Madame Jillian made the Tears of Midnight for the Queen. She could make more, but it took at least a week to distill the drink and the healer had delivered a batch to the Queen just days ago. Which meant there wouldn’t be any new Tears of Midnight ready for days.

Desperation clawed at Carys. She had to tell Andreus before Imogen made her next move. She had to get him to meet with her.

That’s when she remembered their plan and headed back to her rooms to write Andreus a note begging him to speak with her. Since Larkin was in the hidden room behind the tapestry of the nursery, Carys picked the battlements at dawn. No one would think twice about Andreus wandering the battlements that early and the sound of the windmills would conceal their conversation.

Her eyes were heavy and her back was sticky with sweat by the time she returned from sliding the note into the step she and Andreus had agreed on. The guard standing at her door stepped forward as she approached. “Excuse me for disturbing you, Princess,” the young guard said, looking at her shoulder instead of her eyes. “But one of the foreign dignitaries dropped by. He asked me to give you this.”

The guard held out his hand. In it was a red rose with parchment and a white ribbon wrapped around the stem.

“Thank you.” She started to turn away. Then looked back at the guard who had been her shadow for the last several days. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Graylem, Your Highness.” He raised his eyes up to hers.

“I believe I owe you a knife,” she explained, seeing as how she had no idea where the one she took from him was.

“That’s not necessary, Princess.”

“Necessary and right are not always the same thing.” She shivered. “I will make sure you get it as soon as possible.”

Turning, she went back into her room and threw the bolt. Now she could shiver and read the note on the flower without pretending she wasn’t sweating. With uncertain fingers, Carys untied the white ribbon and unfurled the small piece of parchment.

I look forward to our next dance. Let me know where and when. —Errik

She staggered to her room and sat on the edge of the bed. If anyone else read the note, they would think it was a flirtation instead of a signal. Lord Errik had gotten Larkin safely to the passages and was waiting for Carys to decide the next move.

Why? He was clever and attractive and had no reason to be putting himself on the line to help Carys. Which meant he wasn’t to be trusted. After years of teaching herself not to be close to or to trust any save Andreus and Larkin, Carys found herself helpless to block the desire to lean on him.

Whatever his motives, he had kept Larkin safe. For now. Errik had been right when he said that would only last for so long. Carys had to convince Andreus of Imogen’s treachery. Once he realized the plots against him, Carys should be able to make him understand that Larkin was an innocent fly in Imogen’s—or someone she was allied with’s—web. Because there was more than just Imogen at work here. No matter. She had plotted against their father and brother and arranged their deaths. For that alone, Carys would make her pay.

Holding the flower, Carys lay on the bed. Her eyes were heavy, her body craved rest, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her brain raced. Her heart pounded. The more she tried to sleep, the worse her stomach churned and her muscles tensed.

Her back throbbed as she shifted positions. Just a sip of the Tears would fix everything. The sleeplessness. The aches in her body and her heart. Just one drink.

She tossed and turned and rose from the bed and paced, looking out the window every few minutes, waiting for the sky to lighten—terrified that Andreus would not be on the battlements when she arrived. Even more scared that he would turn away from her if he did come. If so, she wasn’t sure what she would do. The Andreus at the ball was not the one she had known all these years. Or maybe he was. Maybe she didn’t know him the way she thought.

Maybes spun in her head. Every muscle in her tightened. Sweat trickled down her neck as she paced in front of the window and watched the stars shift in the sky. Shadows moved on the mountains. Faint screeches in the distance made Carys pull her arms tightly around herself until the sky finally showed signs of lightening.