The Rose Society
Page 92
Inquisitors drag Teren to his feet. Even now, in his pain and exhaustion and heavy chains, he pulls and strains against them, causing the multiple iron shackles binding his limbs to pull taut. To my surprise, he smiles at me. It is a bitter, anguished smile, full of heartbreak. His cheeks are wet with tears and rain. His eyes still shine with madness, and now I realize that the madness is because of Giulietta’s death.
“Why don’t you kill me, my little wolf?” he says. His voice is strangely calm now, hoarse with a sorrow I have not heard before.
“Yes, I suppose I could.”
“Then do it,” he snaps. “And end this.”
I just watch him. Why don’t I? My eye wanders back to where Raffaele had been beside Enzo only moments earlier. He is already gone. So are the other Daggers. I search the sky for them, but I no longer see them anywhere. They are retreating with what is left of the Beldish navy.
I walk over to Teren, then bend down so that my gaze meets his. I watch the rain pour down his face. When was the first time I saw this face? When I was chained to the stake, of course, and he had come over to bend down before me. How poised he had been, then, with his handsome, chiseled face and his mad, pulsing eyes. I smile, realizing that we have switched places now.
I bend close to his ear, in the same way he had once done to me. “No,” I say. “I will keep you, until the day I choose not to. You have destroyed and harmed all that is dear to me. In return, I want you to know what that feels like. I will not kill you. I will keep you alive. I will torture you.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Until your soul is dead.”
Teren can only stare back at me. I cannot describe the expression in his eyes.
The strength of battle finally leaves me. I stand on the deck, letting the rain continue to soak me. All around us, Beldish warships burn low in the stormy waters. Magiano, Sergio, and Violetta look on in silence. Inquisitors stand still, waiting for my next move. The Daggers are defeated, and Teren is my captive.
Enzo inherited a throne. Giulietta relied on her royal blood. Queen Maeve rules Beldain because she was born to it.
But true rulers are not born. We are made.
A cruel queen does not mean an unsuccessful one. Under her guidance, Kenettra changed from a glittering gem into a clouded stone, and her empire became one to rule all others, a darkness that stretched from sun, to sea, to sky.
—The Empire of the Wolf, translation by Tarsa Mehani
Adelina Amouteru
The first time I met an Inquisitor, he dragged me out of the hay in a barn and arrested me for the death of my father. They threw me into their dungeons for three weeks, and then shackled me to an iron stake. They have hunted me for months, chased me between the borders of nations, murdered those I love.
How strange that they now see me and keep their swords sheathed. As I walk down the halls of the palace with Violetta beside me, they step aside and lower their eyes. I keep my head high, but I still stiffen at the sight of so many white cloaks. My mercenaries wander the halls, their blades drawn in loyalty to me. Behind us walk Magiano and Sergio. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Magiano staring out the windows toward the burning harbor, his gaze distant. Sergio stops to talk to one of the mercenaries. I tighten my jaw and remind myself that with them as my allies, I shouldn’t fear the Inquisition as much as I still do.
Their queen is dead. Their Lead Inquisitor is in chains, unconscious. Their palace is overrun, and¸ most of all, they are afraid of what I can do to them. I can sense the fear in their hearts. Word had spread of how Enzo lifted his hands and set fire to the entire Beldish navy. Even now, they whisper of the way I made Teren crumple in agony. The way my Roses hunted down a Dagger riding on the back of her balira, how a lightning strike had killed her.
I sense their fear, and use it to build my strength back up.
Thousands have gathered around the palace. As morning arrives in earnest, sunlight slicing through black clouds in thin patches, lighting up the rain, we make our way to the royal chambers. I need to address my people, and I need to look the part. I will walk out onto the balcony with my head held high, fulfilling the fantasy I’d had as a little girl in my father’s home.
You all live in a new era now. From this day forth, ill treatment of any malfetto shall be punishable by death. None shall live in fear, as long as loyalty is sworn to this crown. I will be your queen, and I will restore Kenettra to glory.
“Your Majesty,” Magiano says as we enter the room. When I turn to him, he gives me a quick bow. His eyes are still distant. “I’ll leave you to prepare, then. No need for a thief on the royal balcony.”
“No more need for you to be a thief,” I say.
Magiano smiles and, for a moment, the old flame returns to his eyes. He takes a step closer to me. It seems as if he wants to reach out for my hand, but then he decides not to, and lets his arm fall back to his side. It sends a stab of disappointment through me. “A stunning victory,” he murmurs.
I can see a reflection in his eyes of the final moments of battle, can hear in his voice an echo of his shouts from when we were on board Queen Maeve’s ship. Somewhere out there, Enzo calls through our tether, and I shiver at his pull. I want to reach out for Magiano’s hand too, as if he could pull me back.
But those thoughts are quickly replaced by the memory of Enzo’s final words to me during the battle. Of his black eyes. I would have killed you myself, if I’d had the chance. He’s right, of course. If I were him, I would have said nothing different. There is no question that we are enemies now. Shields go up over my heart, and my alignment to passion flickers lower, dying. It is the only way to protect myself.
“Why don’t you kill me, my little wolf?” he says. His voice is strangely calm now, hoarse with a sorrow I have not heard before.
“Yes, I suppose I could.”
“Then do it,” he snaps. “And end this.”
I just watch him. Why don’t I? My eye wanders back to where Raffaele had been beside Enzo only moments earlier. He is already gone. So are the other Daggers. I search the sky for them, but I no longer see them anywhere. They are retreating with what is left of the Beldish navy.
I walk over to Teren, then bend down so that my gaze meets his. I watch the rain pour down his face. When was the first time I saw this face? When I was chained to the stake, of course, and he had come over to bend down before me. How poised he had been, then, with his handsome, chiseled face and his mad, pulsing eyes. I smile, realizing that we have switched places now.
I bend close to his ear, in the same way he had once done to me. “No,” I say. “I will keep you, until the day I choose not to. You have destroyed and harmed all that is dear to me. In return, I want you to know what that feels like. I will not kill you. I will keep you alive. I will torture you.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Until your soul is dead.”
Teren can only stare back at me. I cannot describe the expression in his eyes.
The strength of battle finally leaves me. I stand on the deck, letting the rain continue to soak me. All around us, Beldish warships burn low in the stormy waters. Magiano, Sergio, and Violetta look on in silence. Inquisitors stand still, waiting for my next move. The Daggers are defeated, and Teren is my captive.
Enzo inherited a throne. Giulietta relied on her royal blood. Queen Maeve rules Beldain because she was born to it.
But true rulers are not born. We are made.
A cruel queen does not mean an unsuccessful one. Under her guidance, Kenettra changed from a glittering gem into a clouded stone, and her empire became one to rule all others, a darkness that stretched from sun, to sea, to sky.
—The Empire of the Wolf, translation by Tarsa Mehani
Adelina Amouteru
The first time I met an Inquisitor, he dragged me out of the hay in a barn and arrested me for the death of my father. They threw me into their dungeons for three weeks, and then shackled me to an iron stake. They have hunted me for months, chased me between the borders of nations, murdered those I love.
How strange that they now see me and keep their swords sheathed. As I walk down the halls of the palace with Violetta beside me, they step aside and lower their eyes. I keep my head high, but I still stiffen at the sight of so many white cloaks. My mercenaries wander the halls, their blades drawn in loyalty to me. Behind us walk Magiano and Sergio. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Magiano staring out the windows toward the burning harbor, his gaze distant. Sergio stops to talk to one of the mercenaries. I tighten my jaw and remind myself that with them as my allies, I shouldn’t fear the Inquisition as much as I still do.
Their queen is dead. Their Lead Inquisitor is in chains, unconscious. Their palace is overrun, and¸ most of all, they are afraid of what I can do to them. I can sense the fear in their hearts. Word had spread of how Enzo lifted his hands and set fire to the entire Beldish navy. Even now, they whisper of the way I made Teren crumple in agony. The way my Roses hunted down a Dagger riding on the back of her balira, how a lightning strike had killed her.
I sense their fear, and use it to build my strength back up.
Thousands have gathered around the palace. As morning arrives in earnest, sunlight slicing through black clouds in thin patches, lighting up the rain, we make our way to the royal chambers. I need to address my people, and I need to look the part. I will walk out onto the balcony with my head held high, fulfilling the fantasy I’d had as a little girl in my father’s home.
You all live in a new era now. From this day forth, ill treatment of any malfetto shall be punishable by death. None shall live in fear, as long as loyalty is sworn to this crown. I will be your queen, and I will restore Kenettra to glory.
“Your Majesty,” Magiano says as we enter the room. When I turn to him, he gives me a quick bow. His eyes are still distant. “I’ll leave you to prepare, then. No need for a thief on the royal balcony.”
“No more need for you to be a thief,” I say.
Magiano smiles and, for a moment, the old flame returns to his eyes. He takes a step closer to me. It seems as if he wants to reach out for my hand, but then he decides not to, and lets his arm fall back to his side. It sends a stab of disappointment through me. “A stunning victory,” he murmurs.
I can see a reflection in his eyes of the final moments of battle, can hear in his voice an echo of his shouts from when we were on board Queen Maeve’s ship. Somewhere out there, Enzo calls through our tether, and I shiver at his pull. I want to reach out for Magiano’s hand too, as if he could pull me back.
But those thoughts are quickly replaced by the memory of Enzo’s final words to me during the battle. Of his black eyes. I would have killed you myself, if I’d had the chance. He’s right, of course. If I were him, I would have said nothing different. There is no question that we are enemies now. Shields go up over my heart, and my alignment to passion flickers lower, dying. It is the only way to protect myself.
