Everlong (3 page)

Mother stalked to Emma’s side and leaned down to her ear. “Your virtue only matters until the ceremony’s completion. Then your purity will no longer be an issue.” Her fingernail trailed the curve of Emma’s jaw, over the thick, pulsing artery in her neck. Blood beaded in the wake of her finger. “You would do well to remember that any males Madelyn turns away tonight will be looking to take their pleasure…elsewhere.” Her promissory tone made Emma’s fists ball at her sides.

She dismissed Emma and returned her attention to me. Her mood lightened just as quickly as it had soured. “No one thought conception between the two demon houses was possible.” Her lips quirked upward in satisfaction I failed to understand. “Until you, it had never happened before. So, you will stay out of the beds of the Evanti until we decide how to make the best use of your unique…attributes.”

The herbal concoction I’d downed earlier threatened to make an appearance. If Mother remained where she stood, it would likely splatter across her costly gown. Imagining the consequences, I swallowed convulsively. “I have no plans to take anyone to my bed tonight.” The bitter lie coated my tongue. “I have rescinded those offers extended to me and wish to remain sequestered in my suite at the ceremony’s end.”

“You must make yourself available if you wish to secure a proper consort.”

“Propriety doesn’t matter to me.” I was proving that tonight, wasn’t I?

“It
is
that Evanti, isn’t it?” she snarled, flashing from regal to rabid again in an instant. Spittle dotted her lush red lips. “You think to save yourself for him? A slave? Giving him to you as a guardian was second in stupidity only to allowing Archer’s halfling bastard to remain in your service.”

She paced without her characteristic grace, seeming to stomp her feet in tantrum with every step. “I have to wonder if my beloved Archer didn’t make plans for this eventuality, although how it benefits him I can’t imagine.”

But I could. Giving Emma into my service lent him the illusion of propriety, whereas her absence would have made his frequent jaunts to the otherwise empty summer castle suspect.

Mother was a whirlwind of turquoise storming across my room. I had never seen her so riled. Her normally blunt nails lengthened as a spark verging on insanity brightened her eyes. She was out for blood and I feared whom she had chosen to sacrifice.

I made my choice in an instant. “I’m sorry to have distressed you.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and shoved down a sob threatening to break the straight lines of my posture. “If it pleases you, you may pick a male to enter my rooms tonight.”

This lie came much more readily to my lips. I knew it would be her consort attending me instead. Archer had plotted too carefully not to have anticipated a similar contingency. He would have ways of dealing with errant suitors seeking the bed he planned to occupy for the night.

Mother preened, placated at once by my show of deference. I shivered as disgust slithered over my skin at the thought of allowing her horrid life partner the use of my body. The reality of Archer made the offer of an anonymous male seem almost appealing.

“Dear,” she crooned, brushing her mouth with the tips of her fingers. “Being second born doesn’t mean you have to lower your standards.” She smiled grimly. “If something were to happen to your sister before her prime, then you would rule in her stead.”

“Rideal will never allow a hair on his wife’s head to be harmed. Nesvia will wear the crown as is her birthright.”

My brother by marriage, Rideal, was broad of shoulder and dull of wit, but he loved his wife with single-minded determination. No one would reach her through him. Of that I was certain.

Another sigh of disappointment from Mother had Emma rolling her eyes behind the queen’s back.

“You never were very ambitious.”

I painted on a false smile. “I’m sorry my disinterest in court politics offends you. I regret that my unwillingness to help you prolong your own reign embitters you towards me.”

Mother chuckled. “Little one, if I decide I’m unwilling to relinquish my throne, I’ll snap Nesvia’s neck with my own two hands.” She turned serious. “That kind of coup must be witnessed, you know. Otherwise there would be gossip as to whether I still had the stomach for such things after my centennial.” Her eyes cut to me. “Especially after your birth. I’ve endured much controversy over my decision to allow you to live, even secluded as you have been in Rihos.” A secret smile played around her lips before she sobered. “Spin around, let me see your back.”

I turned gingerly, trying to keep my balance as the room listed around me.

“Your hair,” she ordered. “Lift it.”

I gathered the strands in my sticky fingers as best I could. My hands were numb, useless appendages requiring visual aid to function. I relied on the mirror to show me what I couldn’t feel.

Mother swallowed audibly. “Oh, Zaniah preserves us. I’d forgotten how horrible they look.” In the mirror’s reflection, I saw the color draining from her cheeks. Hands fluttering, she caught Emma’s attention. “See to it that those…things are covered before her presentation.”

Under Mother’s disgusted glare, the nubs seemed to move of their own accord, as if flexing the wings she’d had amputated and proving they were a valid, integral part of me. She gagged and staggered back, shielding her eyes with a hand. “Drop your hair. Drop it!”

The length of my hair fell down to the high curve of my bottom, completely concealing my back. As I turned to face her, she muttered, “Hideous things.”

I couldn’t argue when I felt the same exact way.

The harsh click of boot on stone announced Archer’s arrival. His smug expression spoke volumes about his confidence in my acceptance of his offer.

“The court is alive with anticipation, my dears.” Archer barged into the room and pushed past Emma like the king he pretended his marriage made him. “Never has an ascendant drawn such a gathering. Appropriate fanfare for our beautiful Madelyn, I must say.”

His expression softened, taking in my appearance with glittering eyes and a quick lick of his bottom lip. Chill bumps dotted my skin as his gaze swung towards Mother, who watched his antics with a slight curl of her lip.

“Now, Eliya,” he said when he noticed her expression. “You mustn’t blame Madelyn for the sins of her mother. You should have considered the repercussions of bedding an Evanti if you didn’t want a child born with their defects.”

“Madelyn is not defective.” Emma’s chilled voice swept through the room. “Why must you revel in making her believe there’s something wrong with her?”

“Have you never seen her back?” Archer spun towards his daughter while his laughter boomed in my ears. “She is a beautiful placeholder for the crown and that is all she’ll ever be. A court intrigue with a disgusting abnormality that will attract the eager and curious.”

Emma took a step closer. “How can you speak to her that way? She is your daughter, in name if not by blood.”

Archer clearly didn’t relish the reminder. He took a step towards Emma to match the one she’d taken towards him.

“I am not her father.” He looked to me, seeking assurance he held my attention. “Would you like me to tell you about her sire?”

I braced myself against the story he was so eager to retell. Flashes of my nighttime terrors filled my mind. Perhaps I knew their source after all. His story, retold in clarion detail, haunted me.

“Eliya wished to punish me for your birth. I’d bedded a courtesan, so she took the next step down—her Evanti guardian.” His grin bared wicked teeth. “You can imagine her surprise to learn she’d been seeded, something always thought to be impossible. In her rage, she ordered me to sever her guardian’s wings on the day Madelyn’s conception was confirmed. I told Eliya to rid herself of the abomination, but after careful consideration, she thought it a novelty and wanted to do something that had never been done.” He laughed indulgently. “I left her lover bound in the courtyard and forced him to watch my wife swell with his child.” His tone turned reflective. “When Madelyn was born, and I plucked the satin wings from her back, he fell to his knees and begged me to cut out his heart. As I did, he thanked me for it.”

“Zehiel,” I said softly. “My father’s name was Zehiel.” As a child, I had longed for some connection to my real father, and Harper had given it to me in the form of that single word. My breath hitched and a film covered my eyes, blurring everyone and everything into watery outlines.

Mother slapped Archer hard across the face. I think all three of us jerked in surprise at her sudden outburst. He lifted a hand to his cheek reverently, as if she’d given him a gift instead of calling him to heel.

“You fool.” She glowered, stabbing the air in my direction. “Look at her. You’ve made her cry. She can’t be splotchy during her presentation, I won’t have it.”

Emma stepped to my side. Her nearness soothed me.

“My lady, I will see to Madelyn’s final preparations.”

“Final preparations” sounded appropriate since a part of me would never return to these familiar suites. What little innocence I had left wouldn’t linger far beyond the return to my bedroom door.

Archer went to Mother’s side and wrapped a hand around the base of her skull, crushing his lips to hers in a brutal kiss. “See, my love? All is well.” He pulled away, grinning with the sheen of blood smeared across his bottom lip. Whether his or hers, I didn’t know. The rouge of her lips concealed any wound she might have gotten, and I felt it far more likely she’d given instead.

“My Queen.” He bowed low in a courtly gesture. “It’s time for us to enter the hall. Your court anxiously awaits you.”

Mother allowed him to take her arm, casting one last glance at me as she neared the threshold. “Today is the first day of the life you were born to lead. Embrace it, and all will be well.”

I watched her go and wished that I could believe her.

Chapter Three

Emma had left me moments earlier holding a cold compress to my eyes, hoping to draw out the redness left from my crying jag. Behind the soft cloth my world was a dark and empty place, peaceful. How I wished I could remain there.

A few dull thumps fell in the distance. Almost like the sound of bare footsteps on stone.

“Hello?”

No one answered. I waited and heard the noise again, louder and growing closer.

I lowered the rag in time to see a blond male jog up the last two stairs in the hall and sweep into my room with casual familiarity.

A flush crept up my neck, tingling at the base of my skull. I wore only a pair of lavender slippers with matching ribbons braided through my hair. Not that he’d noticed. He didn’t even glance my way.

Maybe he’d been warned not to upset me in light of Archer’s mishap. Or maybe his aversion was for more aesthetic reasons.

I almost told him my back was covered and he need not fear what he would see, but I didn’t really want to invite his attention, did I?

As I admired the straight line of his back and purposeful stride, I thought maybe I did want validation from this male. He seemed so self-assured when I wasn’t sure of anything. Both the choices I’d made and the life I lived were things I found myself able to forget as I watched his slow circuit of my room.

I appraised him while his attention was otherwise engaged. The way his bloused ivory shirt and matching vest were unadorned but seemed to hug his body as if tailored for him. His white breeches had minimal gold trim with the cuff banded just above his muscular calves.

I couldn’t seem to look away from him.

He lifted my robe and held it out at arm’s length. I couldn’t see his face from this angle, but his chuckle sounded less than reassuring.

Then fear set in, racing up my spine and freezing me in place. What if this was the male Mother had chosen? Could he even now be surveying my rooms while he planned his conquest?

“You shouldn’t be up here.”

He didn’t answer, but he did stand still.

“I must insist that you leave,” I said crisply. “You will be punished if you’re found in my rooms.”

He glanced up then, and his full black eyes peered out at me from a somewhat familiar face.

“Harper?” I gasped. “Is that really you?” I couldn’t stop the sudden, unexpected laughter from bubbling out of me. “You haven’t used glamour in ages.”

Not since we’d been children and he’d wanted to look as I did. He’d said if I couldn’t have my wings, then he hadn’t wanted his either, but that had been before he learned to fly.

The bittersweet memory curved my lips.

I couldn’t stop from going to him and running my fingers through his shaggy hair or resting my hand against his olive-toned skin. “It’s a nice look for you.” I giggled again.

He held the robe out to me, helping me slip my arms through the sleeves. I still shook with silent laughter as he tied the belt around my waist. When he pulled away, his lips were thin and disapproving. “Could you please stop laughing at me?”

I pinched my lips together tightly.

“Very good.” He winked at me through thick black lashes as he dropped into a formal bow.

Stopping with one leg outstretched, he made a show of picking invisible lint from his hosiery before looking back up to me. “My lady, would you allow me the honor of acting as your escort this evening?”

I dropped into a curtsey opposite him, lifting imaginary skirts while fluttering my eyelashes in what I hoped was a provocative manner.

“I would be honored to arrive on your arm, my lord.” I offered my hand to him.

He took it and reeled me against him too hard so that our chests bumped together.

Then our eyes met and his gaze lowered to my mouth. But just when our lips would have touched, he shifted his angle and kissed my cheek instead, like always.

I’d spent ample time wondering how it would feel to have his lips pressed to mine in a real kiss. Soft and warm, I imagined. Possibly tasting sweetly of the dates he liked to eat. While I was eager to learn, he seemed unwilling to educate me in such matters.

I blamed his reluctance on concerns about propriety.

The moment’s levity passed as reality set in. This was going to happen. It had to happen, but acknowledging the fact made little difference while standing on the precipice of change.

“Ask me to take you away from all of this.” His mouth found my ear. “Please.”

This proud male who never asked for anything was asking me to save myself, but I couldn’t. Not unless I was willing to bargain my life for his, and I wasn’t.

“Shh.” I tucked my face in the bend of his neck and ran my hands over the taut muscles in his back. “The ceremony will only last for a few hours and then we can all put this behind us.”

His thick and lovely fingers burrowed beneath my hair. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to know this is happening and not try to stop it.”

For a second, I thought he meant the deal I planned to make with Archer, but his tone held only quiet sadness instead of the banked rage it would have had he known. I pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Emma and I…”

His gaze broke from mine to scan the bedroom. “Where is she?”

“They’ve already taken her down to the great hall.”

His arms slipped from around my shoulders as he backed away, eyes wild and flashing from ebony to silver.

I captured his face between my hands. “It’s all right. We all knew this day would come.”

He gripped my shoulders, and his nails dug into my skin. “I can’t do this. I can’t let this happen and pretend it’s okay because it isn’t.” His voice rose steadily until my ears hurt from the pitch. “This is torture cloaked under the guise of some archaic rite of passage.”

“We’ll all come out of this on the other side. I promise.” I hoped I offered him the truth. “In a few hours all of this will be over. Mother and her court will leave. Archer will too, at least for a while. Then things will be as they always have been.”

I failed to mention my eventual consort, assuming Archer ever freed me to find one. I didn’t want to think about it, and Harper’s evident misery proved neither did he.

His head jerked in unsteady nods. “Of course.” His voice broke. “You’re right. Forgive me.”

I looped my arm through his. “It’s hard to see those you love hurt when there’s nothing you can do to ease their pain.”

His eyes became distant before pulling in to focus on me. “I would do anything, give anything, to save you both from this. But you won’t let me, will you?”

“No.” I straightened his shirt collar one-handed. “Nothing can save us from fate.”

I took the first, unwilling step towards the door. Harper didn’t follow until the final second when my arm would have pulled free of his.

I flashed him a nervous smile. “Ready?”

His crooked grin made a brief appearance. “I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I am. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

We walked arm in arm through the hallways joining my suite to the rest of the castle, down the long and murky tunnel leading into the public spaces, then finally to the arched entrance of the great hall.

It seemed Archer hadn’t exaggerated. I’d never seen so many nobles gathered in one place. Granted, summer court was the only gathering I ever witnessed. And it occurred at the low point of the social calendar, at a time when most nobles doffed their transient ways and went home to their own estates. Only then did Mother come here.

The hall held standing-room-only spectators, all dressed in richly colored velvets and other court finery. All tried to outdo their neighbor in the silent contest to see whose portrayal of boredom rang with the most authenticity.

They must have closed ranks against any commoners seeking to join in the festivities. If I’d pricked the finger of each demon present, the welling drop would have been a vibrant blue.

The chattering of the crowd ceased all at once. Their dull expressions lit with interest as they saw me poised to enter on Harper’s arm. A woman on the outmost fringes pointed in our direction, but I had the strangest feeling her finger was aimed at him rather than me.

He stopped me from taking the first step. “Say the word, and I will take you away from this place.”

I squeezed his arm lightly. “There’s nowhere for us to go, nowhere safe. And I could never leave Emma behind.”

“Neither could I. The three of us, we could leave. You don’t have to do this.”

“There is no other choice.” I prayed he didn’t learn of the deal I would make until I held his papers in my hand.

I took the first step and entered the hall to a sickening wave of applause that rumbled through the stones beneath my feet.

Harper came to my side reluctantly and guided me towards the elevated dais centered against the far wall. Mother sat highest, with Archer seated to her left and Nesvia to her right.

Rideal stood, a silent sentry, just behind his wife’s chair, scanning the crowd without settling on any one face for too long. Nesvia stroked the hand resting on her shoulder fondly.

I pulled my arm from Harper’s hold and took the short stairs to my place beside Nesvia. He waited until I had completed my climb before turning to leave.

Before he took a single step, two guards appeared, wearing identical, full-court glamour. They caught him, one each around his biceps, but instead of leading him outside, they dragged him front and center into the crowd.

My gaze snapped to Mother. “Slaves are never allowed to witness the ceremony. What is the meaning of this?”

“Entertainment,” Archer replied for her, pointing. “And assurance that any of your later plans will go uninterrupted.”

I followed his finger and saw what he’d meant. The guards half dragged Harper towards one of the stone support pillars. The assembly cleared, revealing chains coiled and gleaming around the base of the marble column.

“What will you do to him?” I asked, striving to project cool indifference while my heart burned.

“Make sure he realizes you belong to Askara, to the crown, and not with the likes of him,” Archer said. “He should feel honored. Few Evanti ever witness such a momentous occasion.”

The center of my chest cooled. This had been his plan all along. I could see that now. None of us had escaped unscathed yesterday. Archer had indulged his own anticipation, choosing to savor his victory today.

The pair of guards struggled to keep their hold on Harper as they wound the thick chains around his chest and secured his hands behind him. When his head snapped up, his eyes shone silver and feral, passing over me to stare into the hallway opposite the one where we’d entered.

I followed his line of sight to where Emma stood, waiting for her cue. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mother motion her forward with a quick flick of her thin wrist.

My fingers dug into the armrest of my chair with palms so sweaty they almost slipped off the rounded edges. Emma winked at me before padding quietly forward. She stopped just before the dais and dropped her robe from her shoulders. Her fair skin grew flush from the heat of the room. With her shoulders back and spine straight, she faced us.

I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to be by her side, able to face this spectacle together instead of treading the line of propriety that ultimately would fail us both. Servant and mistress, we both would bleed the same.

Shifting my focus from Emma, I noted the stooped shadow lurking just outside the hall.

“Ah, good priest, you’ve kept us waiting.” Mother smiled, waving the hunchback male forward.

My stomach roiled as the priest entered the hall with shuffling steps, dragging a creaking cart full of supplies in his wake. He stopped just behind Emma and rolled out a thin black drop cloth, instructing her to lie down upon it.

A low growl filled my ears, drawing my attention back to Harper. His face clouded with some foreign emotion as his gaze settled on Emma. When he looked up, I gasped at the depth of despair reflected at me.

I wanted to go to him, assure him everything would be all right. That this would soon be over and none of us ever had to remember again.

I should have taken his offer to escape and found those responsible for the missing Evanti. I could have begged or bartered our passage to wherever they had gone. Even with nowhere to run and the uncertainty that anyone would hide us, I should have fought back, should have done something besides folding under Archer’s demands.

Emma’s screech of pain startled me back to attention. She writhed on the floor, held down by a guard pinning each limb while forcing her submission. An instrument similar to a quill pen was poised in the gnarled hand of the priest. The metallic sheen of gold flashed as he looked to Mother for permission, which she granted with a singular nod.

The priest stabbed the sharpened quill into Emma’s cheek and began to inscribe proof of ownership onto her body.

When it was over, lavender runes covered her lovely face in a labyrinth of agonizingly beautiful patterns. I couldn’t speak or move. Emma’s body shook with sobs as her face swelled and bled onto the black mat beneath her.

The priest packed away his pen and exposed wizened flesh as he shoved his robe’s sleeves up his arms to free his hands. A grim smile of expectation hovered around his twisted lips.

“My Queen, I would examine the handmaiden, Emmaline Gray, to ensure her virtue is intact and that she is fit to serve her mistress.”

“No.” I gained my feet. Things had gone too far. Tradition and Archer be damned, I couldn’t sacrifice my sister to secure an uncertain future. I had thought I could bear this, but I was wrong. I couldn’t stand by, placid and proper, while watching her suffer.

“You have to stop this, Mother,
now
.”

Disappointment marred her perfect features before the tiny show of emotion slipped beneath her usual mask of impassivity. She gestured to the priest below. “Proceed,” she said flatly.

He didn’t have the chance to touch Emma again.

The walls of the great hall shook, calling everyone’s attention to where a third of the evening’s entertainment wrestled within the confines of his chains. The pillar strapped to Harper’s back lurched from its base, sending bits of stone falling from the ceiling into the crowd below.