I wandered around the castle grounds for a while, mulling over Inigo’s request to let Blythe go. The more I flipped through my memories, the more it made sense. Inigo had stood up for her and praised her, all while walking on the outskirts of our fledgling relationship. Even when it hurt him, Inigo did his best to support Blythe without getting between her and the one thing she seemed to care about: me.
But now I knew better. He loved her. And I couldn’t drag it out anymore.
I kept walking, moving back toward the castle. It was a rare thing to find Kawan outside, and even less common to find him alone. But when the figure rose up from the tall grass in the distance, it was unmistakably him. Maybe it was because I was thinking about Inigo’s selflessness, or considering how to sacrifice a little more myself, but whatever the reason, I marched over to him.
He wiped the edge of a short knife, and I understood now he had been hunting. It probably wasn’t the best time to talk, but it seemed all times were bad. So I continued. Even from a distance I could tell he was rolling his eyes.
“I’m in no mood,” he called, looking down again to something in the grass.
“Nor am I. Still, I think we need to speak.” I stopped a few feet away, not wanting to set him up for an easy punch if his temper got the best of him. “I don’t know what it is about me that offends you so, but I have done my best for you—for our people—since the day my family arrived. You may not have liked my attitude, but I’ve completed every task you set me.”
“You have been trying to undermine me from day one,” he retorted.
“No, sir,” I replied truthfully. “I believed, as my father did, that you would lead us back to our kingdom, that you would take your crown and set things straight. I’ve made many missteps, but I still hope for that.”
He huffed, waving his arms around, gesturing to nothing. “And so I shall have my kingdom. Wait a week or two for this princess to die, and we’ll waltz in, kill off the landowners—the descendants of those traitors who took our place—and put everything right.”
“Is there no better way?” I asked.
His icy stare was all I needed to know that he’d grown tired of my voice. “Let me make myself plain. If you say another word against me or my plans or my methods, I will rid you of your tongue. I’d love to see people follow you if you can’t give an order.”
“I’m not speaking against you; I’m begging you for help. We lost so many on the Island, and if we’ve been misinformed about the royal family in Kadier, we could be set up for another—”
Kawan pulled his knife back out and pointed it directly at my face. It was very near my eye, and I feared a single breath let out the wrong way might cost me both my voice and my sight. Still, I didn’t flinch. I stood, silent and still, waiting.
“One. More. Word,” he threatened.
We stayed like that for a long moment. I wondered why he didn’t just go ahead and kill me. He’d had plenty of chances over the years. My mother wouldn’t have had anywhere else to go. Why did he want me under his thumb and not under a tombstone?
He pulled his knife back, sheathing it before reaching down to pick up what he’d been tending to in the grass. I watched in horror as he lifted a gray animal from the ground.
No. No.
“By the way,” he started, “we don’t have pets here.” He held up my little gray fox, and I had to push aside every impulse in my body to tackle him. “Thank you for my supper.”
He turned again, sauntering away, knowing I wouldn’t follow.
In fact, I turned in the other direction and ran. I made it to the outskirts of the western gate before I bent over and vomited.
“Oh, Thistle,” I whimpered, staying doubled over. It wasn’t just the thought of her dying that tore me apart. It was the thought of her filling his stomach.
I bent over and retched again.
Just when it seemed he couldn’t take anything else from me, he found new ways to break my spirit. If it wasn’t so evil, it’d be impressive.
But now, I counted my conscience clean when it came to Kawan.
I’d tried following him. I tried obeying him. I tried reasoning with him.
But now, when the time came, I would undo him without a second thought. How it would happen, I couldn’t say. But carrying his death would hardly be a burden at all now.
