Page 52 of The Rat King
“You’re dead,” I said, spinning forward, knocking the flat edge of the sword with the brace on my forearm so it went wide. Bobby dropped the weapon and his hand darted for a dagger at his belt, but I beat him to it, wrestling it from his grip. “You don’t get to threaten a king and live.” I shoved him hard, and his back hit the carriage. The varnished wood whined at the impact. I almost backed away thinking of her, but the vitriol in his eye I couldn’t ignore.
I fished out the two other knives stashed on his person then dragged him by the collar to the opposite side of the carriage, hoping it would shield Avery from what I was about to do. Bobby, thrashed in my grip and my fingers slipped. He darted forward, but I was on him, tackling him to the ground.
“Abomin—” His words were cut off as my knee drove into his back. Then his hair was in my hand, and I had his head pulled back to expose his neck. Reaching underneath, I made a hard cut and felt the warmth gush onto my fist. The traitor went through a series of convulsions before going limp.
I knelt there for a moment, letting my breathing even out. This was how I ruled, and I didn’t regret it. But as I took in the blood pooling beneath us, just outside the shadow of the carriage my heart sank. I dared a glimpse over my shoulder, and I could swear our eyes met.
Yes, this is the real monster you’re going to marry. I watched as she backed away from the window into the darkness of the room before I stood and approached the last Musson son.
“Tommy, you made the right choice today, and I won’t forget your loyalty,” I said. And it was true. This wasn’t the first time I’d killed someone’s loved one.
Tears streamed down the boy’s face, and I remembered the day I’d lost my father. Tommy had to be about my age when it happened, though the circumstances were vastly different. He held his hand out to me. In it was the first dagger I’d thrown which had been lodged in his father’s leg. He held the hilt toward me in a shaky hand, stained with blood. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Taking the weapon, I slid it back into its sheath. “I don’t like that you had to see that, but you’re the man of your family now. And I could not allow them to live.”
Tommy nodded, though the tears didn’t cease. “I know,” he said, then made his way to the carriage, climbed atop to the seat where he would drive the horses. He gave one last glance at me, before snapping the reins.
One day, I’d take the time to check in on the boy, but now I had a larger problem to deal with. Wiping my hand on my pants, I made my way up the stairs to see if I had any hope remaining or if what she’d seen had sealed my fate.
Chapter 38
Avery
IknewwhoNighvalwas, theoretically. I knew he had killed people. He’d told me as much. Seeing it, however, was a different story. And he knew I saw it and he was coming for me.
Last night, he’d been desperate to make sure I would never leave him. I agreed to marry him, which gave me giddy flutters as I’d recalled our evening when I woke. But now… Now, I needed a few minutes alone to think. To reconcile what I saw with the loving and passionate man I’d been with the night before. That was why I was scurrying down the hallway back to my rooms.
I made it to my door before the sound of heavy boot strikes thundered up the staircase, headed in my direction. Slipping inside, I snapped the door shut and spun the key in the lock until it clicked, and I could breathe. Footsteps stomped through the hallway, approaching nearer and nearer. I crossed the sitting room before slipping into my bedroom. I started to shut the door when a loud banging sounded from across the chamber. When I didn't answer, the door handle rattled.
“Avery, let me in. I need to talk to you,” Nighval said. The desperate pleading edge in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Would he break down the door? Did I want him to? Part of me did. Fortunately, the rational part of my brain was winning out.
“Go away. I need some time to think,” I called across the room to him.
The door handle rattled again more viciously before it stilled. “Avery,” he growled. “Please let me explain.”
“I know who that was, Nighval. I know Xavier released him. And I remember that you—” Goddess. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes as a sharp pain burst behind them. I felt like something was at the edge of my memory, but it just wouldn't come through. Something to do with that man Sir Robert Musson and my fiancé.
“He committed treason—” he started to explain, but I cut him off.
“And his son?”
“Yes, and his son. I couldn't let them live. Please open the door.”
“I said no,” I reminded him rather loudly.
We sat there at a stalemate for long moments before a crash which sounded like a fist splitting wood shot through the room and Nighval yelled, “Fuck.”
I expected another outburst, but none ever came. Eventually, footsteps retreated down the hall, and I was alone.
The sight of blood called the memories from my near execution to the front of my mind bringing up a swell of dizzying emotions. Images that just wouldn't quit. The decapitated head rolling across the planks, Annabelle with the bag over her head, and now the sight of my future husband kneeling on what had to be a rat-man around my age’s back, wrenching his head back by the tuft of fur and slitting his throat as his clawed hands wildly tore through the air for a target. I couldn't see a great many details from the third-floor window I watched from, but my brain filled in the details I couldn't make out.
How could he do this? Life was so much harder for them in that form and Nighval had been spared from that. Yet he showed them no mercy and took their lives. Even seeing the rat-curse slip off the men as death claimed them was a new horror I’d relive in my mind.
At least they would be buried as men, because the thought of seeing the rat-people in human caskets was too horrible and surreal. It had heat rising up my neck. I fanned my face as perspiration beaded on my forehead. I had to get a window open or I was going to pass out.
Get it together. My world swayed, and I reached a handout to grab onto the footboard of the bed for support. I just needed to lay down. Between the headache that sprung up out of nowhere and my overactive imagination, I had to turn my brain off for a while.
Flipping back the covers, I crawled in and pulled them up over my head, creating a dark cocoon. I lay there in shock for a long while until I recognized the scent enveloping me was of the man who had triggered these fraying emotions. I threw the covers back and looked down at the shirt I pulled from Nighval’s closet to put on after I found my party outfit in a wrinkled heap on the floor. I had thought it so romantic, wearing his clothes after what happened last night, but now as the scent permeated into my awareness, I questioned my decision.
