Chapter Twenty-Eight The Villainess Is Justly Punished

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Villainess Is Justly Punished

When the screams died the proclamation was made.

"So passes a most vile, wicked and unforgivable villain. So perish the enemies of the king."

Time of Iron , ANONYMOUS

R ae raced into the heroine's tower bedroom to find Lia on her bed, knees drawn up like a child, white skirt pulled primly around her ankles. The Cobra was perched on the stool from Lia's dressing table as they laughed.

"Don't worry," the Cobra said lightly. "The pearl's reputation is safe. I went over the roofs—"

When they registered Rae's expression, laughter died.

"I need the viper bracelet. The king has Key and Emer."

" What? " Lia exclaimed. "Why would the king touch Emer?"

"Octavian— wanted me to go with him," Rae faltered. "They tried to stop him. It's my fault."

The Cobra's voice was suddenly tender. "It's not your fault, Rae."

He was too kind, that was his problem. Octavian being a creep wasn't her fault, but she'd sworn the blood oath, made the bargain with Emer and Key that she never intended to keep. This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for Rae.

"The bracelet of the favourite can be used to speak with the king's voice. It can pardon one of them. Then—I'll figure that out later."

"I'll find Marius," said the Cobra. "He reminds Octavian to be the better man Marius believes he can be."

"Why would Marius help?" Rae asked hopelessly.

"Because he's a better man than he believes he can be." The Cobra turned to Lia. "Help me convince him."

Lia recoiled across the virginal white space of her bed. "I saw how Lord Marius looked at me during the tournament. A cursed monster was staring at me through his eyes."

The Cobra often gestured with his hands. Today, they hung helpless by his sides.

"What would you say if I told you in another world he proved you could trust him?"

Lia's sweet blue eyes were unyielding. "I would say that world is not this one."

Rae had once believed it was good they could change the narrative. Now she understood. They had crashed into the story and left it in so many pieces it could never be put back together. Terror for the Cobra cut through her, cold as a knife twisting in her belly.

"Lia's right. Don't go near Marius. He could kill you."

"If he's a cursed monster instead of a hero, it's my fault," the Cobra said fiercely. "I have to try."

The Cobra was out the door in a whirl of gold. Rae buried her face in her hands so she wouldn't have to look at what she'd done. What if the Cobra died today, under Marius's blade, years before he should? She had walked into the story in a cloud of death. She stained everything she touched.

A light touch of cool fingertips made Rae lift her head. Lia's face was a luminous pearl, gold hair looping around her shoulders and gold metal looping around her wrist. Lia had rescued Emer and Key when Rahela was condemned in the original novel. She was the real heroine, able to save them. They would be safe now if it wasn't for Rae.

"Tell me," said Lia, "exactly what happened."

Rae talked so fast her words stumbled over each other, concluding, "I need the bracelet."

"You shall have it," Lia said gently. "Use it for Emer."

"Why, because you don't care about Key?"

Lia shook her head. "Key raised his hand to the king, but Octavian might let you get away with a maid. For Key, perhaps the Cobra can talk around Lord Marius."

Lia didn't think Key could be saved, so she wanted to ensure Rae rescued Emer. Lia was making sense.

"There must be some way to save him," Rae said desperately.

Lia bit her lip. "Is Octavian truly the Emperor? You know him better than I do. Can he be great as well as terrible?"

It was true. Rae knew him better than anybody. She had read his thoughts. She knew who he would grow into.

When the Emperor was angry, he was epic in his fury. But he wasn't spiteful. He could never be small or petty. He was the hero. Even his sins were on a grand scale.

"Yes," Rae breathed. "He can be great and terrible."

"If he has a great heart, when his anger cools he might show mercy," said Lia. "Relieve his jealousy."

"I can't be you."

"No, you can't be me." Lia wiped the blood from Rae's cut lip with a steady hand. "I can make being weaponless a weapon, but that's not the story in Octavian's head about you. The king could strike you dead at his feet, and still he wouldn't believe you're vulnerable. That is its own weapon. I've been told I'm the type you marry, by many men I wasn't interested in marrying. But the poets don't write about heartless wanton women because they hope never to meet them."

Rae swallowed the bitter taste at the back of her throat as she remembered Octavian talking about having two beautiful women on either side of his throne. Readers felt torn between the evil Emperor and the righteous Last Hope. Perhaps it was natural to be conflicted between wishing for the pure pearl and desiring the Harlot in the Tower. Human hearts were made to be divided.

Perhaps the villainess could manipulate her way out of this one yet. She smirked. Her stepsister smiled angelically back.

"Be as wicked as he wants."

The Room of Dread and Anticipation was a grey cavern, the windows arrow slits, the ceiling the colour of a cobwebbed tomb. The stone floor was flat as an altar, except for the long deep grooves gouged in the stone: channels for blood to run along. Gutters ran along the edges of the room to catch the blood.

Rae lifted her chin and strode like an evil queen. She didn't even glance at Key or Emer as she arrowed towards the king.

He looked mildly intrigued, but not convinced.

She purred, "Don't execute my maid. She's the only girl in the palace who can be relied upon to do my hair."

The curl of Octavian's mouth was half judging, half ready to indulge. With the air of one caught with her hand in the extra-sinful cookie jar, Rae held up her arm and twirled the viper bracelet, the token that had got her through the door.

The amusement curving Octavian's mouth grew more pronounced. "Where did you get that?"

"Hoodwinked my little stepsister by making a show of distress." Rae winked, letting Octavian in on the joke. "It's a great drawback, to have a heart in the palace."

She cast a glance towards the open door. Lia had slipped in after Rae. She lingered shyly in the doorway, insubstantial as a shadow made of light.

He might be immature and pursuing scarlet women now, but one day the Emperor would love Lia more than the sun or the air. Surely even now, he could not refuse her.

Save me , Lia's naturally sweet blue eyes beseeched.

Rae licked her artfully stained ruby lips. Please me .

She remembered a myth about a king trapped on a love island by a wicked enchantress, who mysteriously took a year to escape her. She gave a deep sigh so the evil twins heaved, not bothering to hide the calculating look in her eye. Nobody busty was ever a good person! Come on, Your Majesty. Give the villain what she wants.

Under their combined gaze, Octavian's chest swelled. Not as much as Rae's, obviously.

"Release the maid."

The sound of shackles snapping open echoed against the stone. Rae's eyes went involuntarily to Emer. Her prim blue dress was ripped, blood giving her a crimson belt. Her hair had tumbled down from its tight bun, but she caught at the post she'd been shackled to and held herself stubbornly upright. Lia ran forward, shoring Emer up.

Rae couldn't show the slightest hint of concern.

Instead she squeezed Octavian's bicep and gave an appreciative sigh. "I know it was shameless to ask for her, but… I am shameless. Isn't that what you like about me?"

The king's hot hand pressed her waist. Rae forced herself to lean in.

"Perhaps," he allowed. "But there are limits. It seems you deceived this poor peasant boy, and seduced him with your lies."

Of course he would call it seduction. Octavian couldn't understand Key, would never believe he would sacrifice everything because he saw Rae was frightened.

In that close stone space smelling of blood, Rae giggled naughtily. Strain tipped her giggle over into a cackle. Evil women always ended up dead or witches. "Perhaps I told stories. I'm so bad."

The young king's voice was wise and sorrowful. "Even though he's filth from the Cauldron, you wronged him. Look in his eyes. Confess your sins."

She swayed across the Room of Dread and Anticipation as if it were a ballroom. Key hung limp between the posts, only the heavy shackles on his wrists and ankles holding him up.

Whip marks were livid on his shoulders. Imagination shuddered and failed as she envisioned his back. He was barely healed from last time, and now he was chained up to be flayed for her again.

When she tilted his chin up with a red-tipped fingernail, she prayed Key was unconscious. He wasn't. His breathing was stertorous, hitching in his lungs as though there was something damaged inside him, and his once-golden skin was ashen under a layer of blood and sweat. But that familiar smile was on his lips, and his eyes were open. Grey as shadows as the sun sank away, they fixed on her face.

Hoarse with pain, Key murmured, "Tell me you were sick. Tell me that wasn't a lie."

She'd never heard him beg before. A gleam was hidden down deep in his pain-clouded eyes, faraway light like the red sparks outside her stained-glass chamber window.

She had to convince Octavian not to be jealous. She had to put the last spark out.

Rae's laugh tinkled like ice in an empty glass. "How could you be stupid enough to believe my story? Suffering isn't for people like me. Suffering is for things like you."

Unable to bear the look on Key's face, she pulled away, wiping bloodstained fingertips against her silk gown. The sound of Octavian's boots echoed, striking stone as he approached her. He'd crushed her pet beneath his heel. Dread pooled in Rae's stomach at the thought he would touch her again.

Octavian stroked the skin of her arm, the back of his hand brushing the breast half bared by her revealing gown. Rae hoped her shiver seemed like desire.

"You're a good king, but who can resist the wicked? I tricked the boy into helping me," she confessed in her sinner's voice. "I used him and betrayed him. If he's smitten, I'm sorry… that he's such a fool. I don't care what you do to him. It doesn't really matter. He doesn't really matter. But believe this. It is the only truth I ever told that gutter scum."

She had to sell this performance, as her mother sold houses because she couldn't afford not to, as Lia sold innocence every day without losing it. She focused desperately on long-ago hospital rooms, her desperate hurting self, questing between the covers of a book and finding the Emperor.

She pressed her red lips to Octavian's in a long kiss, ending in a silver whisper. "I love you with all my wicked heart."

"I am a good king," promised Octavian. "I intend to show mercy."

Victory thrilled through Rae's body. She'd known he could be great. When he stooped for another kiss, she threaded her bloodstained fingers through his hair and kissed him desperately back. His mouth parted for her kiss. She tasted the words before he spoke them.

Against her lips, the king murmured: "Cut his throat."

The words blurred in Rae's mind as though reading through tears. She reeled and found herself sinking to the stone. Kneeling, staring helplessly up at Key. The first person she'd seen when she woke to this world, the first person to take her side.

He was always smiling. Now a second smile curved on his neck. A red mouth that gaped and gushed blood. Key's last breath bubbled away through his slit throat.

In another world, she'd seen a man die in hospital, watched the illumination in his eyes fade and realized, slow as a terrible dawn, what she was seeing. Life, recognized only when lost, impossible to replicate, impossible to fake and impossible to win back. Life was pain, fury, every dark feeling combined to somehow make light.

The last light drained from Key's eyes. His gaze, still fixed on her, turned black as a cave with nobody inside.

Scarlet rained down on Rae's guilty face. Heat hit her skin and seeped between her lips, thicker and more bitter than tears, his lifeblood in her mouth. Real as her own blood in hospital vials, dark as a stain blotting out the rest of his story. Real as despair.