My heart hammers as I try to keep my eyes on him amid the throng. He walks so stiffly, so proudly, shoulders back and head held high, blood dripping behind him. But inside, he’s breaking.
“You have brought shame to Spring!” one fae man calls from the edge of the path. He whips back his arm and tosses. A rotten head of lettuce smashes against Ez’s shoulder. Ez flinches, then keeps walking.
“I’ll fucking cut his arm off,” Dayton growls, but Farron places a hand against his chest.
“And if we interfere, what will happen to Ez then? This isn’t our dominion, Day.”
“Then I’ll fucking cut Kairyn’s head off,” Dayton snarls back.
Farron gives a pained expression. “That’s not what Ezryn wanted. He willingly passed on the Blessing. He truly believes Kairyn is the most fit to rule.”
“Yeah, well, Ezryn’s an idiot,” Dayton mumbles, but doesn’t make a move toward the citizen.
As much as my heart is breaking, I know Farron’s right. This is Ezryn’s will. He would never forgive us if we retaliated against his citizens or interfered.
So, all I can do is push my way through the crowd, staying near him as we walk solemnly between his parted people. Or those that used to be his people.
A hiss roils up from someone on a balcony. “Long live Princess Isidora!” she cries, then throws a small rock. It clips Ezryn in the brow. More blood oozes down his face. He doesn’t look toward his assailant, but only keeps walking.
It’s as if these few have emboldened the others. More heckles rise. A tomato smacks against Ezryn’s chest, then a small clay pot cracks against his thigh. He buckles but keeps walking. A rotten stench roils up into the air as refuse flies into his path, landing on his shoulders, his arms, his hair.
Tears stream down my face. “Stop it,” I whisper. “Please, stop it.” I want to shield him, want to wipe away the blood and sweat and debris that mar his body. But there’s nothing I can do. The thought makes me feel useless, weak. Feelings I never wanted to experience again.
“Move,” Farron growls beside me, shoving people out of the way. Some move with indignant looks, others too focused on Ezryn to care. But this person is rooted to the spot, swaying, eyes wide and unblinking. Farron shoves them again, but they don’t budge.
“Come on.” Dayton grabs both mine and Farron’s hands and pulls us forward, so we don’t lose sight of Ezryn. Kel has already muscled his way far ahead.
“He hasn’t got much further to go. It’s almost over,” Dayton says lowly, squeezing my hand.
I want to take solace in that fact, but I can’t. Because I can feel the blood on my own face, the disgust and judgment of these people as if they’re gazing at me.
“Have these plants always been here?” Farron mumbles.
“Now’s not really the time, Fare,” Dayton says, yanking us forward again.
The gates leading outside of the city lie straight ahead. Ezryn’s steps are wobbly now, but we’re almost there.
Farron pulls free of Dayton’s grip. “No, look. These red flowers. They’re the same as in the throne room. And they’re all over the city.”
“Matronslayer!” one of the soldiers guarding the gate snarls. He leans down and rips up a chunk of earth. “You will pay for what you did to our High Princess!” With a cry, he hurls the soil. It cracks against Ezryn’s knee, and he falls.
I pitch forward, too, sobbing. The physical pain is nothing; my heart is ripping from my chest.
“Rosie.” Dayton gathers me in his arms, then looks around. “Fare? Where did he go?”
Ezryn staggers up. His brow is coated with blood, one eye bruised from a rock. He takes a trembling step toward the gate.
“Shit, he’s looking at those damned flowers,” Dayton grumbles, peering over the crowd to find Farron. “I’m getting you outside of the city, then I’ll grab him.”
I can’t even speak. My vision is blurred with tears. One step at a time. That’s all I can manage. Once we’re outside the city, we’ll be together. It will be okay.
A wind courses down the streets and over the gathered people, carrying Kairyn’s voice: “And so our city is rid of the Traitor Prince. Let us usher in a new dawn for Spring!”
With Kairyn’s words, Ezryn takes his final steps out of the gate and leaves his home city behind.
Relief floods through my breast as I watch him step behind the huge doors. Kel is waiting at the entrance and wraps his arms around me and Dayton. “Farron?” he asks.
Dayton rolls his eyes. “Got distracted, as usual. I’ll grab him once I see Ezryn’s safe.”
Kel nods, then slips us out of the doors as they slam shut.
We stand in the grassy, tree-covered forest outside of the city. The jeers of the crowd fade away, and finally, I feel like I can catch my breath.
Kel steps forward, looking around. “Ezryn?”
He’s not in the small clearing. But there are so many trees, he must have just—
“Well, well, well, that was a moving little ceremony, wasn’t it?” A woman’s voice cuts through the quiet.
She steps out from behind one of the trees, her shimmering blue dagger held at Ezryn’s throat.
The Nightingale.
Three helmed knights flank her. My heart seizes. Two of them carry divine weapons: one a lance, one a trident.
I’ve seen these weapons before at the top of Queen’s Reach Monastery. Didn’t the legend say they were only to be wielded by the Queen’s chosen?
A mask shrouds the bottom half of her face, but her blue eyes flicker with mirth. “Keldarion, handsome, be a good dog and hand over your sword.”
The ground goes out from under me. Sharp needles dig into my flesh as her brambles wrap tighter and tighter around me, digging into my skin.
The Nightingale’s eyes smile up at me before she turns back to Kel and Dayton. “Or I’ll pluck the life right out of your pretty little Rose.”
90
Rosalina
The Nightingale throws Ezryn to the ground and waltzes over to me. I squirm, suspended in her briars’ hold, but each movement sends thorns digging into my skin. She runs her dagger along my collarbone and narrows her eyes at me, observing, judging. “Today is a good day.”
Ezryn staggers to his feet, clothes ripped, ears bloody. Instead of addressing the Nightingale, he looks to the three knights. Their armor is fine, gleaming in dark jewel tones: one bronze, one turquoise, the other sapphire. “You are the Penta Conclave. Kairyn’s men. This woman is a servant of the Below.”
The knights stay silent.
Ezryn’s eyes widen. “Those weapons you wield are sacred to the Queen. There’s an enchantment on them. If you use them without bearing the Queen’s token, a precious necklace gifted to the High Rulers, it will eat away at you, body and soul. Do not be swayed by this witch. It will destroy you!”
The Nightingale laughs and drifts away from me. Every movement is like a dance, rhythmic and flowing. “Witch? That’s rich, coming from the creedbreaker.” She stops in front of Ezryn. “But you’re not just a traitor, are you? You’re also a fool.” She turns and reaches under the breastplate of the Bronze Knight who bears the lance, pulling out a necklace.