The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(78)
Turning back to the sea, he forced himself to say, “He was the strongest swimmer in the kingdom. He reached me just as I thought my lungs would burst.”
Hands reaching for him, grasping his shoulders with iron strength and pulling him to the surface as he kicked and struggled. As he panicked and tried desperately to beat back the sea that was determined to drag him to his death.
“He saved you.”
The secret trembled at the edge of his tongue, coating his mouth with bitterness, before spilling from his lips. “I killed him.”
“Oh, Kellan.”
He pulled his hand from hers and slammed his fists into the ground, his heart thundering in his chest.
“I was so scared, so panicked for air, that I kicked and fought the entire way up to the surface.” His voice was raw. “I kicked him, just as our heads broke through. There were people in the water coming for us. The guards. One of his stewards. But all I could see was him.”
Shoving Kellan out of the current’s grasp even as he spun away from his son, the water dragging him under.
“He surfaced once, and I tried to go after him, but a guard had reached me and was holding me back. I never saw him again.”
He’d screamed himself hoarse, beating against the chest of the man who was doggedly dragging the prince to the shore even as others ran to sound the alarm and call the king’s fleet of ships to scour the sea for their ruler.
“How many times have you come back here to swim in that same current?”
Swallowing hard, he said, “More times than I can count. When I was younger, I thought that somehow if I could just be strong enough and fast enough, I could undo what happened. If I could be the kind of boy who doesn’t need rescuing, I wouldn’t lose anyone else. But for the past few years, I’ve felt so numb inside whenever I returned to Balavata, that risking death and surviving it was the only way to truly feel alive. Stupid, I know.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Blue’s eyes brimmed with tears, but her voice was steady. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve lost.”
“I’m sorry for all you’ve lost too.” He reached for her hand again and pulled her closer. She leaned against him, her head tipped against his shoulder, and for a moment he wasn’t a prince, and she wasn’t a commoner. They were just two grieving souls finding safe harbor in each other as they silently watched the storm rush toward them across the sea.
THIRTY-TWO
DINAH STOOD IN the front receiving parlor of the castle, Valeraine’s spell safely tucked in her chemise.
She’d done it.
She’d removed every obstacle. Every roadblock that had tried to sabotage her plans. She’d taken over the de la Cours’ shop and their talented and useful daughter. She’d caused confusion in several quarters with her fire spell to keep attention on something other than why she’d moved herself and her girls to a farmhouse. And she’d found the spell that Valeraine had used sixteen years ago to seal the wraith into the Wilds out of Dinah’s reach. She didn’t even need the betrothal anymore. Power—the kind that sent others to their knees regardless of their rank—was so close she could almost touch it.
Now she simply had to take a walk in the garden with the queen, something she’d done hundreds of times over the years, and harvest a bit of the volshkyn bush, and she could do what she’d longed to do every moment since the wraith had first been imprisoned: open the gate.
Footsteps sounded on the stone corridor outside the receiving parlor as Dinah went over the spell’s ingredients. She’d been off on her guesses about what formed the wraith’s lock, but not by much, and that could easily be attributed to the burned smell and the strange, bittersweet scent she hadn’t been able to identify as volshkyn. The other ingredients were stocked in the de la Cours’ shop, so once she had the volshkyn, she could head to the Wilds. She’d have to go at night. Until she had the wraith by her side again, it wouldn’t do to be seen going so far west by herself. Should anything go wrong with her plan, there would be no explaining why she’d gone to the Wilds, and she’d lose any chance at the betrothal.
Not that she’d need to put one of her daughters on the throne once she had the wraith. She could put herself on the throne and punish everyone who’d had a role in destroying what she’d secretly worked so hard to gain so many years ago.
She’d start with the queen.
“Dinah,” the queen said as she swept into the room, leaving her guards posted on either side of the doorway. Adelene’s expression was smooth and regal, but there was something in her eyes that raised the hair on the back of Dinah’s neck.
“Your Majesty.” Dinah swept into an elaborate curtsy while her mind raced.
The queen knew she was staying at the de la Cour house. Kellan would have informed her of that. Perhaps the strange look in her eyes was because she wanted to discuss Blue’s situation without overstepping the legal bounds that gave Dinah guardianship.
Or perhaps she wanted to talk about why Kellan had stationed royal guards at the farmhouse to protect Jacinthe and Halette in the absence of Chauveau staff. The parchment in her chemise rustled against her bosom as she rose from her curtsy, and her thoughts steadied. It didn’t matter if the queen knew about the debts. Soon, all that would matter would be those whom the wraith killed and those she chose to spare.