The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3)

The slithering of a beast, the flick of its tail.

I’m coming for you. It is not over.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark. My room. A log glowed in the hearth. Heavy drapes were drawn across windows, and I wasn’t sure what time it was or how long I’d been out.

I turned my head. Kaden was slumped in a chair next to me, his feet propped on a stool, his head leaning back like he’d been asleep, but his eyes focused on me now as if the mere opening of my lids had wakened him. My hand was elevated on a pillow, heavy, a numb throb pulsing beneath the fresh bandages. I wore a soft nightgown.

“Dear gods,” I groaned, remembering my last moments in the hall, “please don’t tell me I fainted in front of everyone.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Passed out. There’s a difference. It happens when you lose enough blood to fill a bucket. You’re not immortal, you know? I don’t know how you stayed on your feet as long as you did. If it’s any comfort, I think a few of the lords fainted just watching you carried out of the room.”

Carried. Rafe carried me. I wondered where he was now. I glanced toward the outer chamber.

“He’s taking care of a few things with his soldiers,” Kaden offered, reading my mind.

“Oh,” I said simply. For someone who had traveled thousands of miles with a highly trained squad to help me, he seemed to be keeping his distance from me. Even back at the armory, he had sent someone else to break down our door.

“Who did this?” I asked, lifting my bandaged hand.

“Your mother and aunts and a physician—one called from the village. The court physician is locked up. So are the others.”

I heard the catch in his tone.

Others. And one in particular.

I reached out with my good hand and held his. “How are you doing?” I asked gingerly.

He looked at me, hesitating, the pained expression in his eyes returning. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Just before I walked into that hall, I thought I was going to be sick. Sick like a little schoolboy.”

I heard the disgust in his voice. “There is no shame in that, Kaden.”

“I’m not ashamed. Just angry that he could still do that to me. I couldn’t even recognize myself. I didn’t realize what seeing him after all this time would do to me.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how one person can be so afraid and so full of rage at the same time.”

I understood completely. I was still afraid, still angry, but mostly right now I was aching for everything I saw in Kaden’s face.

He paused, a deep breath filling his chest, his nostrils flaring. “He hadn’t changed. Even then, when he looked at me, all he saw was a liability. In that moment, if he could have sold me off for another coin, he would have. I felt like an eight-year-old boy again.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re not a boy, Kaden. You’re a man. He can’t harm you anymore.”

“I know.” His brows pulled together. “But look at how many others he’s hurt. Andrés … he’s worse off than me. Maybe I was lucky to be tossed out when I was. He can’t get his mind to grasp what happened, that men in his company that he trusted with his life were betrayed by his own father.” He looked up at me. “He was half crazed when he rode out with scouts to find your brothers and their squads.”

“Did you—”

“Yes, Rafe and Sven interrogated the prisoners. They got nothing. And we sent four different units riding the fastest Ravians. You were still issuing orders when Rafe laid you on the bed, and those were just two of them.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Most of your words were mumbled, and Rafe finally told you to shut up and listen to the physician.”

“Di

d I?”

“You passed out again. I guess that’s listening.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Past midnight.”