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People are still screaming, rushing down and away from the danger, when the entire thing buckles. Supports crack, but the earth juts up to hold it in place. Rylan is nearby, scanning the underside of the stands, manipulating the earth to rise where it’s needed to hold everything steady. Smoke wisps up around the arena, but the flames are gone. Nina buries her face in my shoulder, and I hold her as we descend off to the side of the sunken field.
Ry storms toward us. “Nina! How could you—”
I meet his eyes and shake my head. His expression melts as we drop to the ground. Nina cries against me, and Ry kneels down with us. A cocoon of floral shrubbery grows around us, hiding us from view. In here, we’re only siblings taking care of each other, as it should be.
“I’m so sorry,” Nina whispers between sobs.
I rub her back. “I know.”
Rylan takes her hand. “It’ll be all right. I don’t think anyone was badly hurt.”
She tenses in my arms and jerks upright. “We need to—” Nina jumps to her feet, and our living barrier opens for her. She rushes out but freezes when Mother, Father, and Marcus approach.
Even with Ry’s assistance, standing is a struggle. My legs sway, but a sweep of wind holds me steady.
“Are there injuries?” Rylan asks.
Mother’s lips press together, her gaze falling on me. My heart falters. Tomas. Where is Tomas?
It’s Father who speaks. “He wasn’t near the fire. I don’t know what happened…” No. No, no, no. “Jamys is dead.”
Chapter forty-five
Jamys? My hand flies up to my mouth. Of course Father wouldn’t have given me attention if it had been Tomas. Jamys is my—was. Jamys was my… Oh, gods.
“Darling, I’m so sorry.” Father wraps his arms around me, and my chest heaves against him.
“What happened?” Jamys can’t be dead. It hasn’t even been two days since I last saw him. Since I… fought with him and broke his heart.
“We don’t know. It was loud, so I don’t know if he even made a sound. His mother screamed, and when I turned, he was on the floor.”
How horrible—his mother and sister were with him. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for them. “Where are they now?”
“They’re all still in the box. Their attendants are trying to get the Queen and Princess away from… him.”
My stomach turns. Shaky as I am, I need to be there, to offer… something. After a couple deep breaths, I muster up the energy. I land on wobbly legs and lean against the rail.
Anilla’s face is buried in her son’s shoulder. She shudders as sobs tear through her. Lillian’s lovely face is soaked in tears for the brother she admired. What a horrid thing for her, to watch as siblings nearly kill each other then lose the one she loved so well. She looks up at me, and her lip trembles.
I drop to her side and wrap my arms around her. “I’m so sorry.” She nods against me.
It’s unreal how quickly Jamys’ appearance changed. The lips I’ve kissed are unnaturally pale. His skin, which had bronzed during our travels, is already taking on a gray hue. I reach out to his hand where it lays on his chest but flinch at the cold stiffness I find. Oh, Jamys. You deserved so much more than what you got.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I swipe it away. The guilt for all the ways I wronged him overwhelms me. None of it matters, I suppose, but it seems worse now. Perhaps because I’m only one of the horrible things that happened to him. This man who was gentle and sweet and… gone.
Lillian squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry, too… for your loss.”
My throat constricts. I’m an imposter crying here with them. They should hate me, not console me. I don’t deserve any of it. Still, despite all the dread I’d built up about marrying him, his death guts me.
I look up, realizing this isn’t the most private place to grieve. “We should go.” I pull Lillian to her feet and gesture to a guard to aid her mother before I take one last look at Jamys. A cloak is shaken out to cover him… by a stone-faced Tomas.
***
Back at the palace, Lillian takes her mother to her chambers. I let them have some time alone, both because they need it and because I feel like an intruder. Rather than cry with them, I go to my own sitting room, where Lucy promptly brings me tea.
“Your Grace, I’m so sorry to hear about Prince Jamys.”
“Thank you.”
