Dividing Eden (Dividing Eden #1)(77)

Elder Ulrich turned his scarred face toward Andreus. Others noticed him and stared as he stood, not wanting to get closer. Not wanting to see.

But when Chief Elder Cestrum and Elder Ulrich stepped to the side, Andreus had no choice. He saw the hair first. Dark, long curls blowing in the breeze. Hair that he could still feel brush his chest as she leaned over to kiss him.

He forced himself to move closer. Some of the Masters of Light watched him with sympathy. Members of the court who had found their way upstairs whispered as he reached the circle around the body of the woman he loved.

His chest tightened. Everything went numb.

Imogen. Her skin, normally a rich shade of tan, looked pale next to the streaks of blood that traveled down her still-beautiful face. So lovely that it seemed impossible she was dead. But her chest no longer expanded with life, and the blood pooled around her from the wound in her stomach told him, beautiful or not, Imogen was gone.

He fought to breathe, but the air was gone. Something inside him broke and he dropped to his knees next to the future he had dreamed of. She had been his. Everything was supposed to have been his. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear her voice warning him that he couldn’t let the scream clawing at his throat free.

Imogen had warned him that his sister would exact revenge for what he had done. As angry as he had been with Carys, he couldn’t believe she would do something to truly hurt him. She had vowed to always protect him.

Gods. How could she do this?

“I’m sorry, Prince Andreus,” Captain Monteros said. “The guards never saw him, but we recovered a knife like the one used by yesterday’s attacker. I am having men sweep the city and the castle now. We will find the assassin.”

“It wasn’t an assassin.” His throat was so tight he could barely speak.

“What did you say, Your Highness?” Elder Cestrum asked.

Andreus swallowed hard and forced the words out. “It wasn’t an assassin who killed Lady Imogen. It was my sister.”

Captain Monteros and Elder Cestrum exchanged a look as people whispered around him. “We understand you are upset, Your Highness,” Elder Cestrum said, stepping toward him. “But there are no signs that your sister was here. The guards never saw her.”

“He did.” Breathing was like fire. Still, Andreus forced himself to rise and turn toward Max, who was standing at the entrance to the tower. Pointing to the terrified boy, he said, “Max told me he was here when Lady Imogen died and that it was my sister’s hand that held the blade.”

Captain Monteros stepped toward Max. “Come here, boy.” Max’s eyes were wide and fixated on Andreus as he approached the Captain of the Guard.

“Tell me what you saw,” the captain commanded.

Max looked down at the ground and said something that was hard to hear over the beating of the windmills and the whispers of the onlookers.

“Louder, boy,” Elder Cestrum snapped.

“I saw the Princess on the ground. Lady Imogen was over there. Then the Princess took out one of her knives and threw it and Lady Imogen fell.”

Captain Monteros looked back at Elder Cestrum and shook his head. “My guards never reported seeing Princess Carys up on the battlements.”

“The boy has no reason to lie,” Andreus shouted. “He knows what he saw.”

“Or he knows what he believes he’s supposed to say.” Lord Garret stepped forward from the crowd. He looked down at Imogen’s too-still body and shook his head.

“Are you calling the boy a liar?” Andreus asked.

“I think the boy will say what he believes will help you secure the throne,” Garret said. “From what I hear, he owes you his life. Perhaps he believes he can repay that debt by giving you the throne.”

“I don’t need anyone to give me the throne. It belongs to me.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Garret said, looking at Max. “But Lady Imogen’s death will not help you gain it. I am not sure what this boy thought he saw, but the truth is that I was with your sister at first light this morning.”

The noble behind Garret gasped and Andreus looked at Max, who had his eyes lowered to the stone beneath his feet.

“And while I appreciate your desire for justice, I am curious,” Lord Garret continued. “Why do you think Princess Carys would have reason to kill Lady Imogen?”

Andreus looked down at Imogen’s motionless body. Anger whipped through him as he said, “Carys was jealous of her. She hated how much my family loved her.” How much I loved her, he added silently. “Captain Monteros, I order you to seize my sister and take her to the North Tower.”

Andreus had weakened Carys by emptying every red bottle in the castle. He had taken something vital to her, and she had struck back—just as Imogen had said his sister would. Now Carys would pay.

Captain Monteros looked at Elder Cestrum and the rest of the Elders.

“What are you waiting for?” Andreus yelled.

The windmills pounded.

The air swirled.

Imogen’s hair—her beautiful, glistening hair—fluttered in the breeze.

His heart strained and ached as it pounded harder. Demanding vengeance.

Elder Cestrum sighed. “I am sorry, Your Highness, but you are not the King. The captain cannot follow your command.”

“You had no problem with him following my command last night.” Andreus kept his shoulders straight. The curse pulled at him. The burning in his chest made him want to double over, but he refused to give in. No one would see it. Carys would not win.