Of Thorn and Thread

by Chanda Hahn

  This will be fun.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Lochni,” I whispered the unlocking spell under my breath.

  The door unlocked and swung inward a few inches.

  I flung it open and surprised the two guards.

  This is the witch?

  She doesn’t seem that dangerous.

  I frowned, and quickly touched my fingers to both their foreheads, making the spell stronger by doing so.

  Somnus.

  They slumped, their armor clanging together as they collided and fell asleep on the floor. Their thoughts suddenly became silent as they slept.

  “Oh, that’s a relief.” I touched my head and thought of a plan.

  I crept down the stairs and sure enough, there was another guard at the bottom. Tapping his shoulder, he turned, and I did the same to him.

  Somnus.

  He crumpled into a pile, his helm clanging loudly against the stone wall. I winced at the sound and wondered if I injured him. Then he let out a long snore and I sighed in relief.

  Passing near the throne room, a strong aura washed over me. I stumbled as a flash of red flickered in my mind.

  Slowing, I found a space in a dark alcove and hid within the shadows. I tried to block out the unnecessary feelings and focus on the anger coming from the corridor.

  When can we go home?

  Mary won’t share.

  I can’t pay that price for flour.

  “Not now,” I muttered. Pressing my palms to my ears, I tried to ignore them and focus on what was going on right in front of me. But there wasn’t any way to do it surrounded by thousands of people. Walking up and down the halls, I tried to narrow down from which room I was getting the anger and heightened emotions.

  A flash of green and red lit up my mind—greed and anger—as my hand settled around a golden doorknob. I leaned in, pressing my ear to the door.

  “Do you have enough?” a muffled voice said.

  “I have plenty for what you need,” a female speaker answered.

  “If this does what you say it does, then we have a deal.”

  The voices became distant, as if they were moving away from the door.

  Turning the handle, I opened the door an inch and peeked into the room. A fire blazed in the fireplace, two oversized chairs faced the low burning embers. A round table with two glasses sat abandoned. I heard the far door closing and swung open the door to enter the study. I must have just missed the occupants leaving out the side door.

  A cloying scent reached my nose, and I covered my mouth and almost gagged when I recognized the familiar smell, one that a certain brothel owner used. Madam Esme. Keeping my sleeve over my mouth and nose, my knees went weak. The scent was growing stronger, making me sick. I could feel my terror rise, my stomach doing flips. Someone grabbed my elbow, and I cried out in surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” Liam whispered.

  “She’s here,” I cried out and felt myself lose control. My entire body trembled.

  “Who’s here?”

  “Madam Esme, I can smell the devil’s breath.”

  Liam looked around the room and took a deep breath. “I smell nothing, except the smoke from the fireplace.”

  “I’m telling you she’s here in the palace. You have to find her. She’s planning something. Alert the king.”

  “Aura, it’s fine. You’re just overwhelmed with everyone’s emotions. You probably imagined it.”

  “No, I’m not. I didn’t imagine it.” I couldn’t keep the terror out of my voice.

  Liam pulled me into a hug, and I crumpled. The fear disappeared, along with the voices. I relaxed and let him shield and comfort me.

  His head snapped up, and his eyes filled with sorrow. “I need you to stay strong. Filter through the fear and focus on me. Or no one will survive this meeting. Come. It’s time for you to get dressed and meet the queen of the fae.”

  I didn’t recognize the young woman staring at me in the mirror. The servants, Hermine and Herla, had outdone themselves styling my hair. The sides were pulled back and braided into a crown. They left the rest long, cascading down my backless dress. Delicate silk and pearls adorned the long sleeves of my white gown, which felt as though it were made for a wedding. It was too extravagant. I feared it brought out my pale skin and eyes and made me look ethereal and wane, not beautiful. But then I had never worn such a dress as this before.

  Hermine beckoned, and I leaned down for her to place little pearl drop earrings as a finishing touch. Herla brought me white satin slippers with no soles. On the cold stone floor, they did little to insulate my feet. They left me to await my summons. Liam said he would return to escort me to the main hall where he would protect me.

  The sky had turned to a dark pink, and the sun set. A knock came to my door, and I opened it, expecting to see Liam.

  The smile fell from my face when King Pharell greeted me.

  “Well, if it isn’t my own personal slave.”

  “What—?”

  He stepped back and a familiar woman raised her hand and blew a fine powder in my face. Instinctively, I inhaled. The powerful drug filled my nose, and I felt my senses dull as the devil’s breath entered my body.

  Madam Esme leaned forward. “You will obey the king’s every command. Do you understand?”

  My limbs were heavy, my brain a fog, and I could not do anything but obey. “Yes, Madam Esme.”

  King Pharell had retreated to a safe distance and came forward to test out my loyalty. “Stand on one leg.”

  Fighting the compulsion, I cried out as my body balanced on one silk slipper. His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Slap yourself.”

  I did. My cheek stung and my palm burned.

  “Good. You will do me no harm, protect me with your life if need be, and obey only my commands.” The king stepped further into the tower. “How long will it last?”

  Madam Esme followed. No longer dressed in silks, she wore a deep red velvet dress, making her pale pink eyes seem even more sinister. Her pale hair was pinned back by a simple comb.

  Madam tested the weight of the bag of powder. “A few hours at the strongest, then she will gain more control, unless you give her a second dose.”

  “You didn’t give me enough last time. I could only control her for a few months before she wanted to go home.”

  Contempt flickered briefly across Madam Esme’s face before it was replaced with a small smile. But I had seen the anger she had for the king.

  “If I had known you were planning to start your own permanent personal harem of one, I would have given you more. Plus, she was fae. You knew you couldn’t keep her.”

  My stomach dropped as I pieced the story together. The fae woman in the story wasn’t King Pharell’s true love, but his prisoner.

  “Stop whining. I looked the other way for you for years. Now you owe me.” King Pharell held out his hand expectantly. “Give me enough this time.”

  The king took the bag, and Madam added, “There’s enough to keep her compliant for years.”

  Her? Was he referring to me, his wife, or Tatiana?

  “Excellent.” King Pharell tucked the purple bag into his pocket and handed Madam an even bigger bag filled with coin.

  Madam Esme stepped back, her eyes glittered with greed as she pulled open the string and counted her gold.

  “This is more than enough to get my business going again,” she preened, and I felt sick to my stomach. Then the queasiness turned into a burning hatred. She had to be stopped. I had to stop her. I vowed she wouldn’t leave here and hurt another woman again.

  Obey me! I thought loudly at her.

  Her hand clutched the gold coins, and I saw her freeze. Her brow furrowed as she heard my internal command.

  She was an empath—like me—and she hid behind the fog of her own drug to not feel anything. But that also meant she could also be compelled. I wasn’t cut off from using my empath powers like before. Her command was for me to obey the king.
<
br />   Silence! You will not speak a word.

  Her open mouth clenched closed as I saw her about to make an attempt to compel me.

  Her eyes went wide with terror, and she turned to warn the king. I had little time and little choice. My eyes flickered to my open window, and I knew I was going to go down a path of no redemption. I was going to destroy my soul, but by doing so, I would save hundreds, if not thousands of others.

  Jump.

  She fought my compulsion, fought the command, but my powers were honed, and I was desperate.

  Madam Esme couldn’t drop the gold coins, but she clutched them even closer to her belly as she moved to the window ledge.

  “What are you doing, you daft woman?” King Pharell bellowed.

  Madam Esme didn’t look back as she jumped from the window. Silence followed her descent as she couldn’t even cry out. But I felt her terror as she fell.

  I heard the greenhouse roof shatter, and the thoughts silenced.

  I buckled, falling to my knees. I cried and felt my soul shatter like the glass of the greenhouse. My body and mind felt broken, for I had sinned. I had taken a life and felt her die.

  King Pharell looked over the windowsill and cringed before looking at me in awe.

  “You did that, didn’t you?”

  I faced him, expressionless.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He cupped his hands over his mouth and laughed. “Extraordinary. So powerful, so young, and all mine.” He trailed a finger under my chin, forcing me to look into his cold, cruel eyes, and I saw myself.

  My eyes became glassy as the weight of Madam’s death weighed heavily on me.

  “Come, Aura, I know the kind of woman she was. I know she had kidnapped you for her brothel.”

  It took effort, but I muttered. “How?”

  “Do you really think I don’t know about the dealings that go on in my kingdom? I had almost bought you for myself.” He pulled out the paper advertisement and read out loud. “Milky white skin, hair like moonlight, eyes like pearls.”

  I sucked in my breath.

  “You should thank me.”

  “Th-ank you,” I said under command, but my body recoiled at the king’s nearness, wishing I could rid the world of the horrid person standing in front of me.

  He beckoned a finger, and the king’s personal attendant came forward, bowing his head. The king whispered instructions, and they exchanged the purple bag between them . “You know what to do?”

  The servant nodded and slipped away into the shadows.

  King Pharell held out his elbow to me, and I noticed the dagger he hid under his blood red velvet jacket.

  “Come,” he commanded. “The night is only beginning, and there is more blood to be shed.”

  I shuddered as my hand touched the velvet, my eyes never leaving the weapon, wondering who the instrument of death would be . . . the king’s dagger, or me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Music and lights filled the banquet hall. The melodious singing of violins and cellos grated on my nerves. Instead of calm, I was becoming increasingly stressed. They decorated the hall with red paper lanterns, their glow casting a red sheen on the floor that looked like spilled blood.

  Like a puppet, I followed behind the king, obeying his every command, internally screaming and waging war against the drugs flowing through my system. I counted down each second, waiting for them to wear off, all while testing the limits of my compulsion.

  “Sit here,” the king commanded, pointing to a padded stool to the left of his chair on the dais. Like a dog, I sat, my back straight, focused forward on the hall and the meager guests. I’d only ever watched a banquet through the magic mirror, and this one felt staged.

  Below us was the head table, and on each side was another table with placards designating seats for the guests. A quick look at those within the room gave it away. It was easy to see they were not nobles, lords or ladies, but soldiers and servants disguised as guests.

  I recognized Hermine dressed as a lady, her dress not nearly as fine or ornate as the others. But her fear poured off of her in waves. Her hand never strayed far from her clutch and the weapons I knew to be hidden inside.

  All an elaborate plot to hide their forces and numbers to deceive Tatiana into thinking she was a welcomed guest and not walking into the obvious trap that it was.

  A dark aura clouded my mind, and I looked up as a beautiful woman stepped into the room, her hair hidden beneath draped gold silk, pinned up with rubies. Her golden dress had long flowing sleeves that fell to the floor. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the beauty that was Maris, Queen of Rya. Tall, elegant, and with sharp, predatory eyes, she reminded me of a golden eagle with winged sleeves as she zeroed in on me and approached. I knew if I were worried about King Pharell’s madness, the real danger had only just arrived.

  It was the darkness of her aura that gave me grief.

  “I thought I told you to stay in your rooms tonight, dear?” King Pharell’s voice was strained as he stepped in front of me.

  “Nonsense, we have two very special guests. What kind of host would I be if I weren’t here to greet them?”

  Anger flashed in my mind, and I had a vision of two tigers circling each other, sizing up their opponent.

  Blood will be shed tonight.

  My neck snapped toward the royals in shock. That same mantra came from the Queen’s mind.

  A noble with long dark hair caught the king’s attention, and I could feel his reluctance to move away from me. He turned to me, and whispered, “Don’t move,” before heading off.

  The mood changed as Queen Maris turned those rapacious eyes on me. She took in my short stool, my hands clasped in my lap, and then she taunted me.

  “So, it’s true. A daughter of Eville has entered my home.” I turned and looked at the thin, frail woman standing before me. Her lips, stained the shade of blood, pulled back into a fake smile.

  I moved to stand and curtsy, but could not, my body firmly stuck to the seat at the king’s command to not move.

  “Who do you think you are that you don’t address me properly?”

  I will break her, the Queen thought.

  A hand drew back, and she slapped me in the face. I could do nothing but take it, and I felt the sting and then a warm trickle as blood ran down my cheek. The queen smirked as she rotated her giant diamond ring around to sit on top of her finger. A diamond stained with my blood.

  She leaned close and stared at my face. Her hand reached for my hair, she gave it a yank, forcing my face forward so she could stare at the bloody mark she left on my face.

  “What a passive little thing you are. And to think I had thought you a threat.” Her eyes strayed past me to her husband, the king, who was oblivious to our discussion.

  I hate him. He destroyed everything I love.

  “W-why,” I asked. “do you hate him?”

  She blinked at me and released my hair, and my scalp stopped burning.

  “What did you say?” she hissed.

  “What did he take from you?”

  Those dark eyes filled with pain. Her mouth turned down, and she raised her hand to strike me again.

  No, I mentally commanded and felt her falter.

  The hand stilled, her eyes filled with fear.

  A trumpet peal cut us off, and they announced dancing. It angered me, the great lengths they were going to create this charade. This trap. The king returned to my side, and the queen retreated to her smaller throne a few feet away. As the noble with dark hair passed below the dais, the candlelight reflected along his hair, giving it a strange green hue. Guests moved toward the dance floor, but there were few females present. One noble moved toward me, he bowed, and I only saw the dark top of his head as he requested a dance, his voice muffled.

  Frozen in my seat, my eyes craned to look toward the king.

  He smirked and seemed to enjoy the power he had over me.

  “You may dance,
but you will not leave this room.”

  I nodded again and stood up. My muscles ached. I had only been seated for a few minutes, but I had been tense, fighting the compulsion the whole time. I took a step down the stairs and stumbled down.

  Idiot. The king’s stray thought was not missed.

  A warm hand grabbed mine and pulled me into the crowd of swirling bodies. My face pressed against his fine suit, his hand on the small of my back, he guided me farther away from the dais until we were behind a column—out of the sight of the crowd.

  “I felt I owed you a second dance,” a familiar voice murmured into my ear.

  Aspen’s grip around my waist tightened, and I looked up at his cold eyes. I struggled, and he released me. Instead of his robe, he wore a dark suit, the collar tight against his throat, his hair impeccably styled. The grace with which he moved showed his nobility. “Relax. I’m not here to harm you. We’re here to watch the chaos.”

  “We?”

  He gave me a wicked smile, bowed, and slipped back into the crowd.

  We. He had said we. Panicked, I scanned the throng of people for the noble I had seen speaking with the king. Why hadn’t I caught it earlier? There was only one person I knew with hair the color of a deep sea, and he had died months ago.

  “Vasili,” I breathed out, searching.

  My heart thrummed against my rib cage as the trumpets bleated for the second time, announcing our awaited guest. The palace attendees stood at attention, the double doors opened, and the crowd parted down the middle as a woman in a white hooded cloak walked through.

  “Announcing Tatiana, Queen of the lesser fae court,” the crier called.

  Tatiana stepped into the room and removed her hood. Her pale hair billowed down her back like a cloud, and her long-sleeved dress draped her in the color of the night sky.

  I couldn’t help but see the resemblance between us.

  Come to me, the king commanded.

  Pulled by compulsion, I moved across the floor, keeping to the sides as I made a beeline for the king.

  “Aura, wait.” Liam rushed into the room from the hall. His hand went to the sword at his side as he glared at the fae queen, but he dared not draw it.