Page 41 of The Faceless Queen

He undid his belt, the metal clanged to the floor, and he pushed my legs apart.

I snapped back to myself then. The Azete had awoken—not just hungering for a meal, but needing to survive.

Claws burst out of my fingers, and I slashed at his back until he roared in pain. He reared away, ready to punch my face, but I hit him first.

Blood splattered from his nose as he called me every foul name he could think of. Then he grabbed his things, stomped out my door and into the hall, looking back at me one final time to call me a “worthless whore.”

After he was gone, hours passed as I sobbed alone in my room, the grief and pain unbearable, incapacitating. I didn’t think I’d survive, didn’t think I’d ever leave my bed again.

Until Cecelia screamed.

If I took Princess Olivay’s place, I’d have to swallow my pride, my hatred, and disgust. Instead of cursing him, I’d have to kiss him. Caress his skin instead of cutting out his putrid heart. Kiss the very lips that I had scarred when I went into Cecelia’s room.

By fucking Batrir. I eyed his statue, mentally tracing the shape of his horns, and then Kavrir’s sword and shield, the seven-pointed star etched across its center. Orsete’s wings of fire, missing from the room, felt like they were fluttering through my belly. I took a deep breath. Maybe I couldn’t choose my fate—maybe I even deserved it for what I’d done. But I could choose how to meet it.

“When this is over,” I said, “what happens to the prince?”

“He will die,” my aunt said.

The Hermit nodded. “Upon the conception, there will be an end to House Lafir as they know it. Never to rise again. From what I have seen, his life all but ends as soon as the conception is complete.”

Jaron would die. And I would have a hand in his demise.

Good.

I swallowed roughly, just needing to know one more thing.

“The child,” I said. “My child. What will happen to them?”

I’d never thought I’d be a mother before. Truthfully, I didn’t think I could be, though I’d wished for it. I always wanted to love someone as deeply as my mother had loved me. To have someone to teach and show the wonders of the world. There was an emptiness in my heart so deep it bore a hole in my chest, one that would never fill. A love dwelled within me with nowhere to go, no one to offer it to. I wanted to love. I wanted it so much I ached. But the truth was—I couldn’t. I could not safely love another. Not another man. Certainly not a baby.

Bearing a child as an Azete would mean harming them with every touch, hug, and kiss. I’d already killed my mother with her love. I could not let that happen again.

“I wouldn’t … I wouldn’t be able to raise my child. Would I?”

“No,” my aunt said plainly.

I nodded, biting my lip. “Do you swear to protect them?” I asked. “Swear they will be safe? Taken care of, and …” my voice caught, “loved for their whole life?”

Not just loved, I hoped, but adored. Hugged and kissed and held without harm. Tucked into bed without the threat of their lifeforce being stolen away. Without having to watch their mother leave for their own safety.

For they would be without a single parent–neither mother nor father.

“They will be loved deeply and treated like royalty. Like they are my own.”

“And me? After I’m done? What will happen to me?”

“You would be welcomed back to court, reinstated as princess, and forgiven.”

“Forgiven?” I asked, my voice hushed. Forgiven didn’t seem possible. Not when I couldn’t ever forgive myself.

But maybe there was an in-between. A place built not of hope or goodness, but peace. Acceptance. A place where I wasn’t constantly hiding in fear and on the run. Where I could be left alone. But more importantly, a place where my people would be safe, where Eskalon would be, too.

“Do we have a deal?” the queen asked. She wrapped her fingers against the leather armrest, leaning forward. “If you are to agree, you will swear a blood oath with me.”

My mouth went dry, my pulse racing. There was no going back after this. Once sworn, a blood oath could never be broken. And if it was, the binding itself would kill you. On pain of death, I would become Olivay. I would face Jaron. And I would bring an end to House Lafir, to my enemy.

I met my aunt’s eyes, the same blue as my mother’s. “We have a deal.”