Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(23)

I paused outside the doors of the sanctuary. They were slightly ajar, and I hesitated, choosing to peer through the small opening into the cavernous room. There were no windows, just great, arched alcoves where paintings of the old goddesses once hung. Clusters of tall, wax candles provided pockets of dim light, enough to illuminate several still bodies that rested among the shadows of the floor.

One body remained separate from the others, elevated on a stone altar. It was Isla, Ana’s vassal and lover, who had been corrupted by the crimson mist and killed during the attack on my coronation day.

A wave of emotion raced from my chest to my throat as I watched her. I felt guilty for my own thoughts when faced with Ana’s unbearable pain, but I was grateful I had not lost Adrian. It was selfish and not becoming of a queen. I needed to focus on finding a way to fight the mist.

Ana stood among the dead, her back to me, and as I slipped through the door, she turned to face me, brushing tears from her cheeks.

“Oh, Ana,” I said, embracing her.

She took a deep breath and then looked around the room, her eyes continuing to water.

“Did you…did you have to do this by yourself?” I asked.

She shook her head and swallowed. “Killian helped.”

A thickness gathered in my throat. I would have to check on him today.

“It was awful,” she said, wiping her sleeve across her eyes. “If we could, we held them until they passed.”

I was quiet for a moment, but I could not help asking, “Could Adrian have saved them?”

I feared her answer because there was a part of me that knew I could not forgive Adrian if he possessed the ability to save our people and chose not to.

She shook her head. “There were so many injured. By the time I managed to examine them, they had already developed fangs. It is the first sign the change has taken root. There would have been no stopping it, even with his bite.”

My fear dissolved once more into guilt. I hated that I had even questioned him, but I was still coming to terms with what I had become, and I did not understand it.

“We should go,” I said. “High Council begins soon.”

Ana and I left the sanctuary for the west wing.

With each set of stairs we climbed, I felt more and more dread—not because of the upcoming meeting but because Adrian’s council chamber was located just beyond the mirrored hall where I had killed my father.

I’d had no intention of letting this bother me, had told myself it was just a room, but as I found myself standing before it, I was unable to move.

It was not as if the hall had not been cleaned. In fact, it looked much like it had before Ravena’s attack, minus the mirrors I had destroyed, but that was just it. I could not exist in this space and not think about the horror of what had happened—where I had landed after my father had pushed me down the stairs, where I had been when he had tried to convince me that dying would be worth the honor of having saved a world that cared nothing for me.

Then I felt Ana’s hand in mine, and when I looked at her, she seemed just as sad.

“It’s all right,” she said, her voice hushed, as if she did not wish to disturb the nightmares that lingered there. Perhaps she feared they might come alive too. “I am with you.”

I took a deep breath and walked with her down the hall, my hand tightening the farther we walked. I did not let go until we were in the council room, and even then, I think I would have held on had it not been for Adrian, who seemed to be trained to find me the moment I entered a room.

Ana released my hand just as Adrian extended his, an invitation to join him at the head of the oval table around which the men had gathered, among them his usual advisors, Daroc, Sorin, and Tanaka, and his remaining noblesse, Razan, Iosif, Vlad, and Iker. When they realized I was present, they rose, bowing, and despite our earlier argument, I went to Adrian.

When my fingers touched his palm, his closed around mine.

“My queen,” he said, pressing his lips to my skin.

His frustration had ebbed since we parted, and while mine had not, I could not deny the comfort his touch brought after walking through the hall and seeing the bodies in the sanctuary. There was a part of me that wanted to collapse in his arms and cry, but I couldn’t, not here in front of these men who likely would not listen to me without Adrian by my side. I hated the thought that these people might value me more for apathy, which would certainly be misinterpreted as strength, rather than my grief.

I felt Adrian’s fingers beneath my chin, and as he tilted my head back, he kissed the corner of my mouth.

“How are you feeling?” he breathed, a quiet question meant only for me to hear.

“Mournful,” I said, and once more I felt the emotion building in the back of my throat. I had not anticipated this—to feel so much so keenly in this moment.

Adrian said nothing, only smoothed his thumb over my cheek. I knew he would take this from me if he could, but there were few ways to relieve this kind of pain, among them time or magic, and since I did not have control over magic, I had to rely on time.

“You are my light, Sparrow,” he said. It was not a direct apology, but in the aftermath of our disagreement, I needed the assurance of his love.

“You are my darkness,” I said. I expected him to let me go quickly, given that we had an audience, but he didn’t. He held me a moment longer, studying my face before guiding me to sit. The members of the council followed, though Adrian remained standing beside me. Ana too chose not to join the table, preferring to stand apart like a ghost, haunting the room.