The Darkest Night Page 6

  “Oh, yes, my naïve princesses, dinner indeed.” He tips his head, finally willing to face us. “What? Did you truly think your father wouldn’t want to share a meal with his own daughters?”

  When his eyes latch onto mine, I flinch, fully expecting their malice, but instead, their piercing blue is layered with such playfulness I almost feel as though it’s just the two of us, spread out across the ground in the gardens of Ashen with nothing but the stars above to light our way. Suddenly, the air around us feels tight, as if invisible hands have slowly tickled their way across my shoulders and up my throat. My palms begin to sweat, and I bite down hard on my cheek to keep my words from joining his game. It’s not the meal I’m afraid of, but the reason behind it. My father has plans, it seems, and Aras knows them well.

  “I’ve lived here for fourteen years, Aras,” Vivi says, breaking the spell between us and tipping her head back as if she could escape this foolishness by staring holes into the ceiling above, “and never once has my father asked me to join him for dinner.”

  Aras squints as he carefully takes her in. “Thirteen years sounds more like it, but you know what they say.”

  “That you’re a terrible liar?” she asks, tilting her chin down to face him once more.

  “No.” He grins in the most charming of ways, making me want to both run to him and hide from him all the same. “That there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Sireen?” I question, digging my heels into the floor to prevent any sudden, irrational movements.

  “I’m afraid it’s true,” she admits, trying for Aras’ sake to look more upbeat and less frantic.

  If only her calm façade could slow the racing of my pulse.

  “You see?” Aras claps, the sound alone causing my shoulders to jump in the most unbecoming of ways. His quick eyes turn to drink me in, hovering over my pinched cheeks and frozen lashes. Like a spirit from the past, a knowing sparkle flashes in his gaze. It remains for a moment, only to be covered by a dark shadow of confusion that takes its place.

  My Aras still reads me well, but he doesn’t understand why.

  With a gentle shake of his head, Aras rises to his feet and makes his way to the entry doors. “Now come, you two. And let’s try not to dress like a man, shall we?”

  Oh, yes. Very well, indeed.

  Nine

  “And you’re absolutely sure of this?” The words struggle between my clenched teeth, and my breath hitches as Sireen pulls the remaining strings of my corset with a rather astonishing strength. “The last time I wore one of these in Aras’ presence, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience.” I fight a wave of unease, thinking back on our disastrous first meeting in Ashen. “Actually, I ended up passed out in his arms.”

  Sireen’s careful eyes flash wide in the mirror, highlighting another mighty pull of fabric against my chest, and releasing what I know to be the subtle sound of cracking bones. I bite my tongue, knowing her reaction alone is enough to confirm what I need.

  Sireen worries as much as I do.

  “Let’s see to it you don’t make that unfortunate mistake again this evening, shall we?” she coaxes, disappearing behind my billowing curls of snarled, dark hair. It’s the first words she’s uttered since she broke the lovely news that we’d both have to wear a dress for this untimely dinner with our father, and though some might consider her candor a little mouthy for a handmaiden, as always, it’s exactly what I need.

  “Wait,” Vivi calls from behind, and my eyes seek her out in the mirror’s reflection—a violet plume of delicate fabrics, overlaid with white lace at her wrists and a high-collared neck. Her green eyes stand out in vibrant contrast as she leans back against the bed, wrinkling the rich cloth as much as she dares. A purple beauty lost in thought. “You’ve worn a dress?”

  My eyes burn with the effort of stopping their obvious attempt to roll, but it’s the slight chuckle of Sireen, somehow escaping through my twisting mounds of hair, which really clips my tongue. After all, it isn’t as though Vivi’s musings are without merit. It’s not her fault she’s only ever seen me in questionable attire.

  “Very sparingly, and always with force,” I add with a teasing glare to Sireen, who covers her amusement by focusing on the braiding of my hair.

  Struggling to process this newest revelation, Vivi heaves herself to her feet and walks the short distance across the room to stand by my side. Reaching out, she runs her fingers down the tight, emerald sleeves of my dress, stopping only when she meets the tipped V of the smooth fabric where it drapes across the top of my hand. Squeezing my fingers with her own, she meets my gaze in the mirror. “Aras isn’t going to know what to do when he sees you, my beautiful, brewing storm of a sister. Perhaps tonight, you’ll knock that magic right out of his soul.”

  I grin, watching as Sireen pulls my side braid into a soft bun at the nape of my neck—the one braid that will always remind me of my life in Ashen. Those once-wayward curls, tied up and bound as if it’s the very thing they were made to do. True magic, if there ever was any. Pressing her hands against my shoulders in acknowledgement, Sireen dismisses herself with a slight bow, quietly retreating from the room.

  Then it’s only the two of us, a wild pair of haunted sisters staring into the reflected eyes of the one person who we’ve both come to love most. Rising from my stool, I latch onto Vivi’s tiny shoulders, turning her away from the mirror to face me with the truest reflection I’ll ever know. “You must be careful what you wish for, Vivi. Depending on Aras’ behavior, there may be more than a few things I try to knock out of him tonight.”

  Vivi’s teeth flash with the widest of smiles, and my heart sings with the happiness of finding the single most important piece of my life that I never knew was missing. “Come now, Bravest, you wouldn’t be my sister if you couldn’t promise that.”

  ↄ

  The walk to the dining hall is slow and somewhat awkward, not because we are hesitant to face our crazed father, but because my shoes pinch my feet and the silken fabric sewed against my chest has the nasty little habit of inhibiting my breaths. Though we were both initially pleased to find Bates knocking at our door to escort us to our stomach-churning meal, the constant looks of concern that he flashes over his shoulder are starting to make me wish Aras had shown up instead.

  Unfortunately, Bates remembers the last time I was in a dress as well.

  “You can stop with the fatherly worries, Bates.” I sigh before regretting another forceful loss of air. “I’m not going to pass out on you this time. I promise.”

  He turns to stop at our final set of stairs, a solid look of disbelief etched across his tired features. Although his face is now clear of all stubble, his shallow eyes still reek of a desperate need for sleep, and there’s a part of me that longs to nick him with my dagger just to allow him the rest. Honestly, if he hadn’t insisted on me leaving it in my chambers, I’m certain I would.

  “You can never be too sure,” he mumbles, moving between Vivi and me and latching onto our arms as if we’re about to tumble to our deaths.

  Vivi chuckles, leaning around Bates’ chest with a playful twinkle in her eyes. “Don’t you worry, Bates. My sister can breathe both fire and ice from her lungs. A little tight fabric is nothing she can’t endure.”

  “I’m more worried about the fabric ripping to shreds when I try to sit,” I murmur, causing another musical laugh to fill the air.

  My eyes cut to Vivi’s, but the humor I find there is too much to bear, and I find myself smiling in return. Besides, she doesn’t always have to know when I’m being serious.

  “Now, even though I’m sure I don’t have to say this,” Bates allows, tightening his grip along our skin, “it is of upmost importance that you do not insult your father tonight. I’ve spoken with him about your upcoming adventure, and I can’t say it turned out how I had hoped. I’m almost assured he won’t let Vivi go along without a price.”

  His words cause a sudden hic in my chest, stealing away any remaining br
eath I was saving. There are lots of things Knox could grant for a price, the most blaring of which being Aras’ soul.

  “I won’t do it,” I stammer, turning to clutch Bates’ arm with a firm grip of my own. “Whatever it is he wants, I won’t give in. Even if I have to sneak Vivi from this very cage in a block of blasted ice, I can’t give him what he wants. He always asks for too much.”

  Vivi’s eyes begin to glisten over with the slightest of tears, but she shakes her head, willing the thought of what I know to be her lost brother from her heart. “Oh, come on, you two. You know that Father always says no to anything he’s asked. It’s not as if we expected him to willingly agree. All we have to do is convince him I’ll be important to your cause, and everyone knows I could convince a hen to take a swim.”

  We pause, narrowing our gaze as she raises her chin. “What? I can’t help the dark skills of persuasion that lurk within my heart. It’s Father’s fault that half of his blood pumps through my veins. Besides,” she says, turning to face the large, arched doors before us, “this may even be fun.”

  Her words have barely reached our ears when an angry voice rises from behind the doors, and the very floor all but shakes beneath our feet. “If those little twits know anything, it should at least be not to keep their father waiting! Where are they?”

  “Or perhaps not,” Vivi sings as Bates reaches for the handle and ushers us in.

  Ten

  “And here they arrive, Your Majesty,” Bates announces, pulling us tight and herding us into the room like two stray animals whose very instinct tells them to run.

  The ceiling opens up before us, dark and brooding, with only the lit candles hung from the long, broad beams to give us sight. A large fireplace looms in the center of the room. Its flames roar like the magic that builds within my coiled muscles, begging to protect my little sister with every spark it has. A long, wooden table, each leg carved with my father’s mark, sits like an executioner’s block, beckoning our feet forward to the two chairs that remain empty by its sides. The only other chair is positioned at the head of this large monstrosity, and there our father sits with a look of utter disgust marring his regal face.

  Luckily for us, he’s back in his long, red robe, covered like a waterfall of blood from head to toe. His dark hair is slicked back into its usual, perfect mold, and his odd beard is angled in such a way that it highlights the fierceness of his cheeks. Our careful steps lead us through the room as his brooding eyes rake us in so slow and calculating, I can almost feel the invisible slits as they burn across my skin in their wake.

  “This does all seem rather unpleasant at best,” Vivi whispers, while somehow managing to keep a passive expression upon her paling face.

  Bates, the poor man, stiffens at her words, as if they’ve reached out and bitten him upon the hand, quickly ushering us to the two seats placed across from each other near the middle of the table. A scary, but somewhat safe distance away from our brooding lineage. At least if he tries to light the entire room on fire, one of us might have a fighting chance of throwing a delicate plate at his face.

  Even in the midst of disaster, one can still dream.

  “What a cozy dining room,” Vivi says, showing feigned admiration with the politeness of a royal queen, needling Knox the best way she knows how. “Though I must say, it seems a little depressing, considering the lack of fresh light and all. Tell me, have you always wished to eat in the near dark?”

  Though I keep my eyes pinned on Vivi’s confident jaw, I feel the change in him, the very essence of his magic, building and smoldering into a precarious flame. My shoulders drop with the slightest of movements, and Vivi’s attention turns to me, waiting to see what damage I can add to the mix. While Vivi has always had more grace, it cannot be denied that we share a sharp tongue.

  Strangely, I get the feeling now may not be the time to explore those similarities.

  “I like to enjoy my meals in privacy,” Knox responds with forced politeness, as if he doesn’t wish to lash out and burn his daughter to a crisp. “I’m also quite accustomed to a little peace.”

  Vivi’s features pinch with disgust. “Privacy? What would one window hurt? It’s not as if anyone can see over the towering walls that keep us prisoners within our own home. Forgive me, Father, if I think your desire for darkness runs much deeper than that.”

  “Enough!” Knox shouts, pounding the table with his fists and rattling our empty plates. As if his outburst was timed, the single door behind him immediately opens, and a tall, slim man enters the room with a large tray balanced in his hands. I try to catch his gaze, but his serious, yet frightened exterior will have nothing of it. Stopping beside Knox, the man serves his plate until it is filled with a mound of what looks to be sizzling meat and a rich, red sauce.

  Once he makes his way down to Vivi, and then to me, only then do his eyes widen behind his careful facade. I start to speak, but he lowers his head, carefully placing the delicious-smelling meat upon my plate. Warm steam rises across my face, and my mouth waters as my eyes take in what must be the most luxurious meal I’ve had to eat since my time in Ashen. Forgetting my manners, I look up to thank him, only to catch the long, black flap of his fine tunic as he disappears through the same open door.

  “It’s duck,” Vivi whispers from across the table, her chin dipping down to her plate as she speaks. “Don’t worry. I’ve never eaten it either. As far as I know, it won’t turn us into a raging quack like our father.”

  Her words hit me just as I manage a sip of water to coat my drying throat, and I try to cover my choke with a polite cough against my napkin. But even through my watering eyes, I can still make out the edges of her devious grin.

  “Already such secretive sisters,” Knox observes, his voice as deep and forbidding as the dangerous glint in his gray eyes. “Tell me, Brave. Did Vivi share with you about the last day she ever saw her mother alive?”

  Vivi’s lips fall and a hardened mask slides up in its place. She takes a large bite of meat, chewing it quite inelegantly between her teeth, and sets her sights at the head of the table once more. “Oh, I’ve told her the story, Father, and I’ve told her more than once. A daughter must know her father’s weaknesses, don’t you agree? And considering you had to use actual flames in an attempt to ruin our mother, it does make the limits of your magic seem very intriguing. Isn’t that right, Brave?”

  Her dangerous words light a match of fear within my chest, and the hardened signs of magic begin to pull within my lungs, tangling with each breath. I look up to find Knox gauging my reaction with the most frightening whisper of a smile gracing his lips.

  And all the while, the restrained heat nearly burns me from within.

  “Your Majesty,” Bates hedges from the entry doors of the room, a forgotten bystander in this lovely family meal. “Although it’s true Brave is aware of Ingrid’s final moments, I’m not sure she knows the events that led up to her mother’s death.”

  Across from me, Vivi’s shoulders stiffen, and her haunted gaze clouds as she glares at one of the few men left in this castle who we thought might actually be on our side. One of the few men, who it now turns out, may be like all the others.

  “Is that true, Viviana? My, my,” Knox muses as his hand reaches up to trace the intricate edges of his beard. “So very close you two seem to be, yet you don’t tell her the truth? You don’t even admit that you’re the very cause of your mother’s death? Why, you practically lit the match yourself.”

  “You lie!” Vivi shouts, banging both of her hands against the table and sliding her chair back with a lurch. “She isn’t—” She freezes, realizing her near mistake and takes a careful breath through her nose. My own chest deflates with relief, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Bates’ does as well.

  “She isn’t what?” Knox prods as a dark satisfaction settles on his face. “Dead? No, daughter, I suppose she isn’t.”

  Vivi fumbles for composure, sitting up straight in her chair, and any relief I
thought I had disappears into the thinning air. “How do you know?”

  Knox waves her off with his hand, the simpleton daughter with the all-knowing king. “I have my ways, child, and your reaction only confirmed what I already knew. But enough about me. Right now, I’m sure Brave wants to hear all about your role in her mother’s near demise.”

  Vivi’s eyes widen with the briefest of stings, only to be replaced by a searing glare. “If you brought us here to see if you could tear us apart, then you are sadly mistaken.”

  Her tiny frame shakes with either anger or fear, I can’t tell which, and her cheeks are streaked with thick blotches of red. Without thinking, I reach across the table, and her quick fingers latch onto mine. A warm heat matching my own. “The day before he burned her, he offered me a deal,” she explains. “If I would promise my will to him, he said he would let Mother go unharmed. As you can imagine, I didn’t consider it.”

  “And nor should you have,” I whisper, hoping to dry the tears that have escaped down her cheeks. “You would have hurt her worse by taking the deal, and he never would have followed through on his end. Let us not forget who is really to blame here, remember?”

  Even though her lips quiver and hot tears still dot her lashes, her frantic breaths settle with the subtlest of nods. If there is one thing we can agree on in this awful place, it’s we must remember where our allegiances lie. If Knox wanted something from her, it wouldn’t have been to help anyone. It would have been to serve himself, and the thought of losing my sweet sister to that lunatic is more than I can take.

  “What do you say we stop with the games, Father, and get down to what really matters most?” I dare, turning to match his hard stare with a dangerous one of my own. “We both know I saw your missive to Theron, and I’m aware of your intentions to send me there. The only thing I want to know is… how could this possibly benefit you?”

  His lips twitch, and his eyes narrow as he decides how to best deal out the cards of my fate. I’m not a fool to think he doesn’t need a mole—someone to prepare for his takeover from within Theron’s walls. I’m interested in why he believes I have any intentions of doing it. He knows of my magic, but he has yet to learn of its limits, its unpleasant ability to take me out when I’ve used too much. Over the past four weeks, I’ve dabbled with my magic, yes, but never to the point of exhaustion. Never to the point of the endless black dots that plagued me in the woods.