The blow was sudden, stunning. Staggering back, lights danced across my eyes as the corners of my vision turned dark. I almost went down, managing to stay on my feet by sheer will alone. If I fell, I knew I wasn’t getting back up. Vikter had also taught me that.
Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear the lights from my vision as the man whirled on me. The hood of his cloak had fallen back. He was young, probably only a handful of years older than I, and his dark hair was shaggy. He pressed his hand to his side. Blood seeped out between his fingers. It was coming out of him fast. I must’ve hit something vital.
Good.
His lips peeled back in a feral snarl as his gaze lifted to mine. Even in the moonlight, I could see his eyes. They were the color of frosted water. A pale, luminous blue.
“You will pay for that,” he growled, voice even more abrasive, as if his throat were filling with pebbles.
I braced myself, instinct telling me that if I ran, he would give chase like any predator would. And if I got close again, my aim had better not be off. “Take one more step toward me, and I won’t miss your heart a third time.”
He laughed, and a chill swept through me. It sounded too deep, too changed. “I’m going to enjoy tearing your skin off your weak, fragile bones. I don’t care what he has planned for you. I will bathe in your blood and feast on your entrails.”
Fear threatened to take root, but I couldn’t cave to it. “That sounds delightful.”
“Oh, it will be.” He smiled then, teeth smeared with blood, and he took a step toward me. “Your screams—”
A sharp, piercing whistle came from somewhere deep in the trees, silencing him. He stopped, his nostrils flaring. The sound came again, and he seemed to vibrate with rage. The skin around his mouth went white as he took a step back.
My grip was steady on the dagger, but a tremor started in my legs as I watched him, refusing to blink.
He picked up the fallen bow, wincing as he straightened. His gaze met mine once more. “I’ll be seeing you again real soon.”
“Can’t wait,” I gritted out.
He smirked. “I promise I’ll make damn sure that smart mouth of yours is rewarded.”
I doubted it was the kind of reward I’d be eager to receive.
Backing up until he was beyond the roses, he spun around and loped off, quickly disappearing in the heavy shadows that gathered under the trees. I stayed where I stood, breaths coming out in short, quick bursts, ready in case this was some trick where he waited for me to turn my back. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but the tremors had spread to my hand by the time I realized that he wasn’t coming back.
Slowly, I lowered the dagger, my gaze snagging on the spattering of blood where he’d stood. Another short breath left me as I lifted my gaze to the roses. Drops of blood glimmered on the onyx-hued petals.
A shudder racked me from head to toe.
I forced my body to turn around.
Rylan remained where he’d fallen, arms lax at his sides and eyes dull. I opened my mouth to speak, but there were no words, and I had no idea what I would’ve said anyway.
I looked down at my dagger, and I felt a scream building in my throat, clawing at me.
Get it together. Get it together.
I had to find someone to help Rylan. He shouldn’t lay out here like this, and they couldn’t see me with a bloodied dagger. They couldn’t know that I’d fought the attacker off. My lips trembled as I pressed them together.
Get it together.
Then, like a switch had been thrown, the shaking stopped, and my heart slowed. I still couldn’t take in a deep enough breath, but I walked forward, dipping down and wiping the blade on Rylan’s breeches. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my actions causing guilt to make my skin crawl, but it had to be done. Head and face throbbing, I sheathed the dagger. “I’m going to get someone for you.”
There was no answer. There never would be.
I started walking the path without realizing what I was doing. A numbness had invaded my body, seeping in through my pores and settling in my muscles. The lights from the castle windows guided me forward as I edged around the water fountain, coming to a sudden stop. Footsteps sounded ahead of me. My hand slipped to the dagger, fingers curled around—
“Maiden? We heard shouting,” a voice called out. It was a Royal Guard who’d often kept watch over the Ladies and Lords in Wait. His eyes widened upon seeing me. “Is that—good gods, what happened to you?”
I went to answer, but I couldn’t get my tongue to form words. Another guard cursed, and then there was a taller form with golden hair brushing past the two guards, his weathered face stoic. Vikter. His gaze swept over me, lingering on my knees and hands, and then the unveiled part of my face.
“Are you hurt?” He grasped my shoulders, his grip gentle, and his voice even more so. “Poppy, are you injured?”
“It’s Rylan. He’s…” I stared up at Vikter, suddenly stopping as what Hawke had said about death surfacing without warning. It was something I’d already known, but it still managed to shock me.
Death is like an old friend who pays a visit, sometimes when it’s least expected and other times when you’re waiting for her.
Death had indeed paid an unexpected visit.
“How did this happen?” Duchess Teerman demanded. The jeweled flower securing her brown hair glittered under the chandelier as she paced the room usually reserved for greeting guests. “How did someone get into the garden and come that close to taking her?”
Probably the same way someone got into the castle and killed the Lady in Wait the day before.
“The others are scouting the inner wall as we speak,” Vikter said instead. He stood behind where I sat perched on the edge of the velvet settee, half afraid that I would get blood on the golden cushions. “But I imagine the culprit came through the section that has been damaged by the jacaranda trees.”
The very same section Vikter and I used to leave the castle grounds unnoticed.
The Duchess’s dark eyes flashed with anger. “I want them all torn down,” she ordered.
I gasped.
“Sorry, my lady,” the Healer murmured, dabbing a damp cloth under my lip and then handing the material to Tawny, who provided him with a clean one. She’d been summoned as soon as I’d been placed in the sitting room.
“It’s fine,” I assured the silver-haired man. What had caused the reaction wasn’t what the Healer had been doing. Granted, the astringent stung, but it was what Duchess Teerman had demanded. “Those trees have been here for hundreds of years—
“And they have lived a long, healthy life.” The Duchess turned to me. “You have not, Penellaphe.” She strode toward me, the skirt of her crimson gown gathering around her ankles, reminding me of the blood that had pooled around Rylan. I wanted to pull away but didn’t wish to cause offense. “If this man had not been scared off, he would’ve taken you, and the last thing you would’ve been worried about is those trees.”
She had a point there.
Only Vikter knew what had happened—that I had managed to wound the man before he’d been signaled off. While the details couldn’t be shared because we’d run the risk of exposure, Vikter would notify the Healers in the city to keep an eye out for anyone wounded in such a manner.
But the trees…
They may have caused the deterioration of the wall, but it had been like that for as long as I could remember. There was no doubt in my mind that the Duke and Duchess knew about the wall and simply hadn’t ordered it repaired.
“How badly is she injured?” she asked the Healer.
“Superficial wounds, Your Grace. She’ll have a few bruises and some discomfort, but nothing lasting.” The old Healer’s long, dark coat hung from his stooped shoulders as he rose on stiff, creaking joints. “You’re incredibly lucky, young Maiden.”
I wasn’t lucky.
I had been prepared.
And that was why I sat here only with an aching temple and a sore lip. But I nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“Can you give her something for the pain?” the Duchess asked.