All's Fair in Revenge

Chapter 43: Candlesticks

Thorne led me deeper into the prince's hauntingly gilded quarters. We came to the end of a gold-paneled hallway with an assuming door.

"Inside and to the left." Thorne said, his armor clanking as he pivoted to weight in position.

Brix thanked him and opened one of the double doors. She ushered us into the lurid room, her accomplice close behind.

I stalked past the prince's desk to the bed where four gold columns, draped with heavy yellow fabric, framed a lush mattress.

"Is there anyone with worst taste?" Dragging my fingers around its smooth surface I added, "You could feed a generation with one of these posts." I moved toward the desk, skimming the surface of every piece of furniture as I went but my breath stuck in my throat at the sight of what lay on the desk beneath a window. I inched closer and closer, the object like a beacon gleaming across the sea. Brix stopped me.

"Your Highness, Mabel will take you into the washroom while I find the towels."

Polished gold with citrine and yellow sapphires winked in the candlelight. "Hmm?"

"Mabel will see to your clothes while I locate the towels," she repeated.

"Be right there." The crown. A symbol of power and wealth, one of greatness and obedience. Leading anyone, let alone a whole country, required finesse. Balancing wants with needs. It took the right people to do it. In Kelvia, that looked like a council. But in Dorsette, it was a single man. One who could say and do whatever he wanted no matter who he hurt. In the wrong hands, concentrated power could do much damage, but what would happen if the person who wore that crown did it for the right reasons? What if they were benevolent and gracious? Someone who wanted the best for the people, all people.

At the thought, something prickled along the hairs on my neck and the cool blue energy tingled my fingers. I squeezed them into my palms, hard enough to break the first layer of skin. Then I turned to the orange-haired girl, remembering why I entered the room in the first place.

"Mabel, is it?" I propped myself against the footboard, my palms gripping it on either side of my wide hips. "Before we wet my dress further tell me something." The servants exchanged a worried glance. "Why are we really here?"

"To wash the tea from your dress, Your Highness," said Brix, wringing her apron between her nervous hands so rigidly I almost wondered if it were an act.

"See, I don't think so. Try again." My bare foot pushed off the footboard's solid frame. "I watched what went down and Mabel, you shoved Brix. Why?" The rough stone of the hearth caught my fingers as I mindlessly inspected the mantel.

Neither girl offered an answer. I stared at them, then paused before adding, "Explain yourselves." Not a one chanced a breath. "You might as well spill." I tilted my head at Brix. "After all, you owe me. I'm quite sure I saved your life out there. Or at least your job if nothing else."

Mabel winced, but Brix gathered a strength I'd never seen from her as she said, "And I'm quite sure I saved yours."

A sharp laugh burst from me. "Saved me? From what?"

"Nothing, it doesn't matter," Brix mumbled, avoiding my ire.

I stepped toward them, scrutiny tapering my hooded eyes. "I'm done being nice."

"That was you being nice," taunted Brix.

"Tell me why you poured scalding tea in my lap, or I'll send you both back to the table in pieces." Anger and lies roiled in my voice as I lost patience. "Come now. You are keeping me from the prince. Every moment spent in here is a moment I don't get what I've come for."