Chapter 123 Heart Denied
It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to drop to my knees and scream until my vocal cords shredded.
"Such a tragic romance," Vespera’s smooth, musical voice drifted over the marble.
I turned my head. She had stepped out of the gallery, walking slowly toward the dais. Her blood-red riding habit rustled against the floor. She looked at me with a mixture of pity and absolute triumph.
"But you are smart, little fish," Vespera sneered, stopping a few feet away. "You realized that playing house with a rotting corpse was never going to end well. You chose the winning side."
I looked at her perfectly painted lips, at her flawless, unblemished skin, and the cold, stagnant magic deep in my lungs stirred with a dark, violent urge. I wanted to open my mouth and sing a single, high note that would turn her bones to ash.
But the Emperor was watching.
I kept my face completely blank. I didn't give Vespera the satisfaction of an answer. I simply looked through her, as if she were nothing more than an unpleasant draft in the room.
Vespera’s smile faltered, her red eyes narrowing in irritation at my silence.
"Take the Arch-Duchess to the West Tower," the Emperor commanded, breaking the tension. "She is no longer a prisoner of the dungeons. She is the savior of the sea. Give her a suite fitting her station. Have the servants draw a hot bath and bring her fresh clothes. She must look like a queen when she takes the blade tomorrow night."
Two Imperial guards stepped forward, their movements crisp and formal. They didn't grab my arms this time. They simply gestured toward the grand exit of the Throne Room.
I turned my back on the Emperor and the whispering court. I walked down the center aisle, my bare feet carrying me out of the jaundiced, suffocating light and into the cool, silent corridors of the upper Citadel.
The journey to the West Tower was a blur.
The guards escorted me up sweeping spiral staircases and through long, vaulted hallways draped in heavy crimson tapestries. I didn't pay attention to the layout. My entire focus was turned inward, furiously maintaining the thick wall of ice around the blood-bond. I was terrified that if I let it slip for even a fraction of a second, the Emperor would sense the lie, or Klaus would feel the agonizing truth of my deception and react, ruining everything.
We reached a heavy set of polished mahogany doors at the very top of the tower.
One of the guards opened the door, stepping aside to let me pass.
"The servants will arrive shortly with food and water, my lady," the guard said, his tone entirely devoid of the cruelty Thorne’s men displayed.
I stepped into the room. The heavy mahogany doors clicked shut behind me. I heard the distinct, heavy slide of an iron deadbolt locking into place.
I was alone.
The suite was breathtakingly opulent, a stark contrast to the cold, wet stone of the dungeon we had escaped just days ago. The floor was covered in a thick, plush white rug. A massive, four-poster bed sat in the center of the room, draped in sheer silk curtains. A large marble fireplace crackled with a warm, inviting fire, casting a soft orange glow across the room. Tall windows looked out over the sprawling black ocean.
I walked slowly to the center of the room.
I stood there for a long moment, listening to the crackle of the fire and the distant, muffled crash of the waves against the cliffs far below.
Then, very carefully, I let the mental wall of ice crack.
I didn't drop it completely but I opened a tiny, microscopic fissure in the barrier, just enough to feel the tether.
The silence from Klaus’s end hit me like a physical blow to the stomach.
There was no warmth. There was no protective, heavy pressure. There was only a cold, echoing void, thick with the dark, suffocating despair of a man who was waiting to die. He had retreated deep into his own mind, shutting himself down to endure the final hours in the dark.
The dam broke.
My knees hit the plush white rug. A ragged, tearing sob ripped its way out of my throat. I covered my mouth with both hands, muffling the sound, my shoulders shaking violently as the sheer, crushing weight of what I had done finally crashed down on me.
I had broken his heart. To save his life, I had looked him in the eyes and completely shattered him.
The memory of his voice played on a continuous, agonizing loop in my head. He was so ready to die for me. He was so perfectly willing to let me drive a dagger through his chest if it meant my world would survive.
I wept until I couldn't breathe, curled into a tight ball on the floor of the luxurious cage. I cried for the unfairness of it all, for the cruelty of the Emperor, and for the three hundred years of suffering Klaus had endured alone in the dark.
But as the tears finally began to slow, leaving my eyes burning and my throat raw, the despair began to harden.
The firelight flickered against the marble hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the room.
I slowly pushed myself up off the floor. I wiped my face with the back of my dirty, blood-stained sleeve.
The Emperor thought he had won. He thought he had forced me into an impossible corner, and that I had folded like a coward. He believed that tomorrow night, I would stand before his entire court, take the obsidian dagger, and execute the only man who had ever truly protected me.
He didn't understand the bloodline he was dealing with.
I walked over to the tall windows, pressing my hand against the cold glass, looking out at the dark, churning expanse of the Sapphire Sea.
I was not going to kill Klaus. And I was not going to let my ocean rot.