Page 9 of Burn

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Page 9 of Burn

My canines flashed. Because of him, Autumn assumed Briar had lost her mind. Behind my and Avalea’s back, they’d been calling her “The Mad Princess.” Oh, but the motherfucker would pay for that.

The queen’s expression smoothed out like a plate of metal. “Nevertheless, you’re here because of your own actions. A rampage against the king. A path of blood and fire. Considering how you tore into a fleet of my soldiers, to stop Briar from fleeing the castle three days ago, I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t leave a dozen massacred Summer knights trailing behind you.”

“The night is young,” I reminded her. “But while I’m capable and motivated, I’m also not stupid.”

“Many would say that attacking a monarch equates to attacking an entire nation.”

“One would be wrong. A single body is easier to conceal than a dozen. For their sakes, Rhys’s unsuspecting security detail stayed out of my way. Otherwise, we’d be having a different conversation.”

“All right, I’m done talking in circles. You’ve made it clear tonight—”

“Just tonight?”

“Seasons,” she groused. “Numerous timesyou’ve made it clear that you can rip any Royal or court to shreds with your bare hands, but that’s not your leading strength. From where I stand, that strength has abandoned you in favor of self-destruction.”

I tilted my head. “In other words, I need to control myself.”

“At minimum. Your skill for manipulation is wanting, jester.”

The manacles shook as I launched to my feet. “Count how many fucks I give.”

“For mercy’s sake, Poet. Enough with the alpha glower,” Avalea demanded as I resumed pacing. “This is not you. Currently, yours are not the shrewd words of the man my daughter set her heart on the chopping block for.”

I halted with my back to her. Now we were getting to it. She blamed me for Briar’s banishment. Well, she wasn’t the only one. It appeared we were both letting our demons get the better of us tonight.

But aye. Avalea was right.

Not without Briar.

In the maple pasture, she had mouthed that plea. Like a reflex, the entreaty loosened my muscles. For all that Briar had unleashed on the king in the courtyard mere days ago, and for all that she’d like to see him tortured by me, she wouldn’t want it to happen like this. Not so sloppily.

I flattened my palms against the nearest wall and leaned in. My shoulders tensed as Avalea’s words reached me from behind. “This is not how she would do it. And it’s most assuredly not what she’d expect from you.”

“Wrong,” I murmured. “She knows to what lengths I’d go. I burned a king tonight, yet that’s the least of my ambitions. I would scorch this world for my princess.”

Avalea fell momentarily silent, approval and censure clashing in her voice. “I have only ever wanted someone to love her the way you do. Yet Briar also believes in something larger than herself. To her, a worthy ruler would not want the world to suffer purely for her own survival.”

Another thing she wasn’t telling me that I already knew. My thorn would seek to annihilate the enemy differently—cleverly. As we’d done before. Together.

Tonight, I had let rage and loss get the better of my tact. I twisted, set my back against the wall, and crossed my shackled arms. “Apparently, I’ve been a prick.”

Avalea’s mouth twitched. “Do jesters always exaggerate?”

“Only if they’re vain.”

“You have behaved foolishly.”

“Come now. Don’t sugarcoat it.”

She waved that off. “If you wish to work off your guilt, compose some private verse about your infraction and then rewrite it one hundred times.”

I slanted my head and gave her a look of mock confusion. “Who said I was sorry?”

It depended on which part we were talking about. But when Avalea pursed her lips, exasperated by the play on words, I yielded and inclined my head. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

Mollified, the woman nodded. The cashmere gown swished as she approached and paused several steps from me. “Do what she cherishes most about you. Sharpen your tongue, and use that as your default. If you don’t, the anguish will build inside you until it combusts.”

I evaded her gaze. Everything she said made sense and would have been my own line of thinking, had I been thinking rationally at all.




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