[Sequel to The White Sheep's Disguise] Living in Rivian's palace is not all that it seems. Still hiding a power that'll get her killed, Marie fights between worrying for her family's safety, Cloak's panic attacks, and ensuring the Raven Queen doesn'...
When I finally make it up the twisting staircase, legs burning and lungs aching, I debate making a run for it. Disappearing into the snow with only a fur-lined coat and my magic as a source of warmth. I can fight my way through the Void; she gave me back my powers—trusting that I would stick around to watch this plan of hers unfold.
The inkling of one, she claims.
No woman of her status has an inkling of a plan without a true, monstrous, ominous pit waiting over its shoulder to devour that notion. She may have trusted in me more than she should, but even she is smart enough to realize that revealing one's cards too soon always ends in defeat. The plan will dissolve and work through trials, reform into a different silhouette only to be torn down again. Eventually, she'll have a plan. I hope I'm not involved.
One step past a window and I know I wouldn't make it back to the capital alive. Blistering snow slams against the glass, pulled by roughish winds and fights to get within the palace. The cold can't withstand itself. Not only that, but the Void Queen's minions are posted everywhere, and as strange as this is, I would much rather be here than fighting off unknown beasts clawing at me through dense fog. They'll drag me back here, anyway. I might not have a punishment in store, but my disobedience will grant one.
She's right about me. About what I can't and can do. She gave me my power back because she knows I can't hurt a single soul; my inner workings take over before I can stop them. Killing her—even fighting her—would result in unpleasantries. An army stands at her back and they wouldn't mull over my life for long before taking it. It's best I make friends, not enemies.
The moment that thought goes through my mind, a familiar face I once considered to be a friend comes around the corner, his long, gangly legs carrying his weight. At the first sight of me, his eyes widen and he slows to take in the sight of me approaching.
I slam into a solid wall of my own anger. Mutes did this to me. He took me away from my family, from the palace, all the while forcing a friendship on me and my brother until he got what he wanted. Trust. He earned it, but he certainly didn't deserve it.
This palace is completely foreign to me. That doesn't stop me from turning on my heel to storm in the other direction, down an unfamiliar hall that Fidibi didn't lead me through to the get to the Void Queen's private residence in the dragon's belly. The perfect hiding spot. I was merely retracing my steps until I came across a familiar door, hoping that it was mine, and now it looks like I'll have to circle the entire palace back and forth to escape Mutes.
"Wait!" he shouts after me. I don't stop.
I practically run down a stone staircase and trail my fingers along the bone banister, no longer noticing that my touch bumps against every ridge and crack of past life. Who decorated this palace, and why must they use death as a theme?
My steps hurry into an empty antechamber full of unused and dusty statues. A soldier raising a sword over his head is covered in cobwebs, a praying woman bent at the knees is missing two fingers. I pass underneath all of them, sliding carefully around one that is clearly of Millicent Terravale leaking tears—or blood—from her eyes, and make to push open the door on the other side of the room.
A firm hand grabs my arm and I shove back, expecting this. Mutes stumbles when my hands collide with his chest. A memory flashes into my mind, Cloak's widened eyes as I push against him. He killed Rylan. And he had the audacity to appear surprised at my anger after killing the one connection I had to unaffordable magic. Magic I had, but couldn't use.
Don't be silly, my mind hisses. You couldn't have produced those concoctions if you tried.
My inner conscience sounds strangely like the woman I just finished speaking to.
"I have nothing left to say to you," I fume through clenched teeth. He opens his mouth to defend himself and I jump at the chance to cut him off. "You shouldn't have put me in this position; you were only thinking of yourself. Mutes, I left my family behind."
"Castiel is in the best hands possible." His voice is pleading, desperate. Good. I want him to beg for something he never should've had. I won't trust him again, not as I once did. He's still familiar to me—his scent, his smile, his soft eyes. But he looks all too comfortable surrounded by all this black. Even his clothes are of the same shade, and I hate how handsome he looks with a high, dark collar.
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back, far enough away that his sweet scent can't get to me. The faint hint of sugar lingers in the air, possibly from the Void Queen's chambers, and I shoot him a glare meant to singe hair. No wonder why he always smells like that—she does, too. Is he the lover of both, or just one?
"Was your entire friendship a lie just so you could betray me in the end?" I demand to know.
"That is true. I betrayed you." Well, at least he doesn't hold back. "I enjoyed getting to know you. Both of you. And I don't think of you as anything less than my friend, Marie. Truly, you mean more to me than you know."
I scoff at the false longing in his eyes. The poised hand over his chest as he pledges to me, practically dropping to a knee to plead his case. I want nothing from him, not even the stories of his embarrassing failures or mishaps. All of that could have been a lie, too.
He senses that I'm working through every memory I have of us, and steps forward. I move out of his reach before he gets too close. Once again, I'm baffled by my own stupidity. A strangled scoff while fighting back tears I haven't had the time to shed lingers in the back of my throat. Mutes's hand wraps around my arm before I can take another step to flee from him.
"I promise I am doing this to protect you," he whispers. All the desperation is gone, leaving behind the softest, gentlest voice he could hope for. The last shred of hope I'll have. "You are much safer with Wyetta than you ever were with Millicent."
This man truly is insane. I stand up taller, yanking myself away from his warm grasp. He almost appears hurt at the idea that I would bother shoving away from him like he's the true enemy. For the moment, I'll look at him as such. My eyes convey every cold sense of wanting to bite off his head or slap him across the cheek or kick him between the legs, but I choose to hurt him with my words instead. A devilish part of me refuses to stop them, to truly kick him where it hurts. Not between the legs. "Wyetta forced magic upon thousands of innocent lives. She led them to their deaths and didn't have the courtesy to march beside them. She doesn't blame herself for their deaths, for their torture." I step closer so our faces are only inches apart. "Any visitation by force is not protection."
He looks like I struck him. This time, when I pull away, he doesn't try to pull me back. Mutes has finished pleading his case, and so have I. Fire burns in my veins, ice crystallizing over my heart. If I wasn't so keen to trust, I wouldn't be here. I would be at home, in Exole, and Mutes would be the one to face the brunt of the Void Queen's rage.
Somehow, this plan of hers will come back to me. Not Mutes. And I'll be the one that gets burned in the end.
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