Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(114)

I leaned over and placed my hand on top of Sullivan’s. He jerked, but for once he didn’t pull away, and he curled his fingers into mine.

“She’s not gone yet,” I said in a low voice. “I can still use my immunity. I can still try to save her.”

“No,” Dahlia rasped. “No. I made my choice. Let me die.”

Sullivan shook his head, telling me that he would honor her last wish. Then he leaned forward, so that he could stare into her face.

“Was it all a lie?” he asked in a low, anguished tone. “Did you ever care about me? Did you ever really love me?”

“Of course I love you,” Dahlia rasped.

She reached up and tenderly cupped Sullivan’s cheek. He flinched, as though her touch burned, but he didn’t pull away from her.

“I know you think I’m a horrible person. Maybe I am. But I always loved you,” she said. “Remember that, if you will.”

Tears filled his eyes, and a muscle ticked in his jaw, but he nodded. “I’ll remember,” he said in a sad, resigned voice.

“Good boy . . . You always were such a . . . good boy.” She smiled at him a moment, then her face turned serious. “Don’t make the same mistakes that I did . . . Don’t let your anger and duty rule you . . . Otherwise, you’ll end up like me . . . bitter and alone . . .”

Dahlia drew in another breath, as if she was going to say something else, but her voice escaped in a soft exhale. A bit of black blood bubbled up out of her lips and trickled down her chin, and her hand slipped from Sullivan’s face.

He caught her hand and slowly lowered it to the ground. Still clutching her fingers in his, he bowed his head, tears sliding down his face for the mother he’d never truly known.

*

Serilda, Cho, Paloma, and Xenia found us in the gazebo, still huddled around Dahlia’s body. Gemma followed them, along with Grimley, Alvis, Heinrich, Dominic, and Rhea. Halvar and Bjarni also appeared, but they kept to the edge of the gardens.

Once my friends realized that Sullivan and I were okay, they wanted to know what had happened. Sullivan drew Heinrich, Dominic, Gemma, Alvis, and Rhea aside and told them about Dahlia, while I did the same to Serilda, Cho, Paloma, and Xenia.

Everyone was stunned by the news, except for Serilda, who stared at Dahlia’s body with a thoughtful look. I wondered if this was one of the possible outcomes she’d seen with her magic, but I didn’t ask.

I had expected Heinrich to be so furiously angry about Dahlia’s betrayal that he would immediately disown Sullivan and order him thrown out of the palace. But instead of raging and lashing out, the king stared down sadly at Dahlia’s body, as if he couldn’t believe that she had wanted him dead.

Sullivan cleared his throat. “You’ll want me to leave now and never return,” he said in a soft, resigned tone, voicing my thoughts.

Everyone looked back and forth between him and the king. Heinrich stared down at Dahlia’s body a moment longer, then focused on Sullivan.

His face hardened. “You are my son,” he declared in a loud voice. “You will always be my son. I could never love you less. I can only love you more.”

Then he stalked over, wrapped his arms around his son, and hugged him tight, like he never wanted to let him go. Sullivan reached up and hugged his father back just as tightly, and the two of them stayed like that for a long, long time. Eventually, Sullivan turned and hugged Dominic, as well as Gemma.

I had some questions of my own, which Gemma answered. She had run into Sullivan on the outskirts of the gardens and had told him that I was under attack. He’d told her to find Dominic and the others, as well as summon the palace gargoyles to the throne room to protect Heinrich. Then Sullivan had rushed to my aid. He had saved me, but he’d lost his mother in the process.

Guilt twisted in my gut at the hurt I’d caused him yet again, but there was nothing I could do to take away his pain. And I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Dahlia. She had been trapped between two worlds, Morta and Andvari, and she had never truly belonged to either. And now she was dead, and Sullivan had to pick up the pieces of his broken heart over his mother’s secret agenda.

Rhea summoned the guards. Together, with my friends, they did a thorough sweep of the gardens, along with the rest of the palace, in hopes of finding Maeven, but I knew that she was long gone. Sure enough, Rhea reported back that there was no sign of Maeven anywhere, although the guards had discovered several strixes hidden in a barn on the palace grounds. The Mortans had apparently used the giant, hawklike birds to fly over the walls and avoid the gargoyles, as well as the guards posted at the gates. Maeven must have used one of the creatures to escape the same way.

Eventually, I wound up sitting by myself on one of the cushioned benches, watching Sullivan stare down at his mother’s body yet again.

A rough tongue licked my hand, startling me out of my guilty reverie, and Grimley plopped down beside me. He licked my hand again, then leaned forward and sniffed my fingers, just like he’d done on the balcony outside my chambers a few days ago.

“Magic killer,” he rumbled in his deep, gravelly voice. “Magic master.”

The gargoyle had said the same thing to me that day on the balcony. I hadn’t understood what he’d meant back then, but I did now. I also knew why Alvis had said that I’d have to discover for myself what it truly meant to be a Winter queen. He was right. I wouldn’t have believed him if he’d told me what he thought I could do with my immunity, but now I did.