Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

GRIMM

" R eady?"

"Not even a little bit."

Agatha's scowl, coupled with a deep, exaggerated pout, was adorable. Grimm chuckled, much to her chagrin, and fingered the thick fabric of her elaborate gown.

"This gown might be the most beautiful thing I've ever worn." She shifted erratically, pulling at the tight bodice. "But it is also the most uncomfortable."

"Careful," Grimm warned. "Tindle will have your head if you damage this monstrosity."

"The monstrosity is your ego!" Tindle spouted as he entered their bedchamber from the sitting room, waving his spectacles around like a maestro's baton. "Spin!" he demanded, admiring his obsidian and ghostly grey masterpiece .

Agatha rolled her eyes and groaned but did as she was told. As she faced the dressmaker in each turn, she made a new rude gesture that he primly ignored.

"Princeling here is correct, though," he quipped, sliding his spectacles onto his nose and inspecting her skirts. "I'll gladly hang for treason for what I'll do to you if so much as one stitch comes out of place. This is an exact replica of the gown worn by the last four queens of Seagovia at their coronations, with my additions, of course. Embroidery made to look like the loveliest lace cobwebs imaginable, a shoulder adornment resembling delicate bat wings, and, clearly, all done in black rather than the traditional white. Elegance and Vitality."

Agatha huffed. "It's not an exact replica if you made changes."

Affronted, Tindle baulked. "Changes made to fit your macabre taste. Obviously."

"And the forty-five extra layers of fabric?" she complained.

"The bigger the better, darling."

"This isn't lace, either. It's stitching."

"I said made to look like lace." He shook his bald head and blinked, befuddled by her attitude.

"It's heavy ."

"Aren't you too godsdamned ancient to throw a fit?"

Agatha bared her teeth and Grimm jolted forward, putting his hands on her arms—avoiding the shoulder piece that looked as if it could take his eye out. "Easy now." He pulled her away from Tindle before she could maim him with that or some other creative part of her dangerous dress. "All right, everyone. Let's all get along." Turning to his pouting wife, he made her look at him. "One hour of the ceremony, and then you can come put on the comfiest thing you own."

"Comfy, but pretty."

"Of course."

Her eyes narrowed. "One hour?"

"One hour." Grimm crossed his heart.

Agatha stomped off, muttering something about applying lip stain. Grimm turned to find Tindle, his mouth pursed and arms crossed, looking at him over the rim of his spectacles.

"She loved that gown yesterday."

"She's only dreading the coronation."

"For what reason?" Tindle whisper-hissed, leaning in. "The people adore her."

Grimm frowned. "Most of them."

"Anyone who doesn't will have to face my wrath." Tindle pointed sharply toward where Agatha had exited. "Because that witch in there has all but sacrificed her life for these people. Did she even tell you she went out into the slums while you were in mourning and used her power to rebuild the row of witch houses and shops that were damaged in the riots after she set magic free?"

Grimm clenched his jaw, loath to admit she had not told him.

" Then ," Tindle went on, "she marched over to Gemme Road and The Hill to personally have tea with the five most prominent families in the aristocracy. Any peace we have at present is her doing."

Pushing his newly-trimmed hair out of his eyes, Grimm looked toward the door. He had no doubt she'd done it all alone and in disguise. Too worried someone would try to stop her .

"That next fortnight, every second you were occupied, she hosted an array of mortals and witches, rich and poor alike, in that drawing room your mother gave her."

He did know that part. And he'd made a point to say nothing to convey that knowledge lest she begin to second-guess herself. If Agatha didn't tell him something, she had a damned good reason. In times past, those reasons had been treasonous…but she was queen now, and she could do whatever the fuck she wanted. She had his full support. "She knows what she's doing."

"No," Tindle argued, "she doesn't. But she certainly figures it out."

Did anyone really know what they were doing? No, he supposed not. " Touché ."

Agatha returned to the bedchamber with plum-painted lips and a look in her eyes as wild as her auburn curls. Grimm braced himself for more of her petulant attitude, but it never came. She'd evidently re-located her maturity in the process of applying lip stain. "Let us be going then," she said in her most regal tone.

He really couldn't blame her for the wide swings of her mood. He was feeling quite the same as of late, after all. When Agatha was overwhelmed, overstimulated, and over-anxious, she always held it in until she was safely alone with Grimm or Tindle. Nestled in that safety, she turned into the lost, sullen little eight-year-old witchling of her shadow self until her inner turmoil smoothed out.

If Grimm were to hazard a guess, it broke Tindle's heart as much as it did his. And neither one of them would ever not be there when she needed them. When she needed to sit in the dark. When she needed to rage. When she needed that little girl inside to heal.

"I know I'm hard on you," Tindle said to her out of nowhere, as if he had been having the very same thoughts as Grimm, "but tell me you know it's because?—"

"Because you believe in me and care about me, and blah blah," Agatha said, rolling her eyes and lolling her head back and forth. She grinned. "Yes, Tindle. I know. Apologies to you both for my ridiculous behaviour. Now, let's get this atrocious coronation over with."

Augustus met them in the corridor with wide eyes pinned on Agatha's dress. "You look like you could flatten a field of soldiers with just a look!" Turning to Tindle, he added, "Well done!"

Tindle preened. "See? Elegance and Vitality."

"Mm," Agatha considered, her eyes squinted. "I prefer bewitching ."

Grimm barked a laugh, taking her hand and setting it in the crook of his elbow. "You, my love, are the most bewitching, wicked little creature of them all." She smiled, her first true smile of the day, and Grimm couldn't help but add, "With a heart as secretly soft as a pumpkin loaf." He bent and kissed her cheek. "My beloved study in contrasts."

AGATHA

Agatha focused on the click-clack of her heels—infernal things—against the checkered marble as she walked toward the dais. If she looked to either side, she would see just how many people were gathered, and she did not care to know. Instead, all she paid attention to was the blend of fabrics. Fine silk brushing against homely cotton.

The whispered words of those in the crowd seeped past her mental shield, though.

…gods, she opened the event up to everyone , someone sniffed as she passed

… goddess above, she looks beautiful …

… looks like Death's mistress … That one made her snort.

… done so much for us …

… let those evil witches and half-breeds ruin this city …

Just before they'd entered, Augustus said they'd begun to turn people away, even after they'd opened four overflow rooms. Gaggles of citizens just waiting for a glimpse.

Agatha took a steadying breath. One step in front of the other , she heard in the bond, the voice drowning out all others. She knew her Sisters were somewhere in the crowd, blending in and watching with pride. Somewhere, Anne, Dulci, Tindle, and Augustus also watched on.

Grimm stood off to one side of the dais, holding the pillow where her new crown rested. He was flanked by Emile on one side and his father on the other, who was slumped over in his chair. It was a peculiar mockery of her first entry into the very same throne room. The very same black waves of Mer Noir visible through the large window behind the dais.

Only, on this occasion, Gaius was absent. Queen Fleurina was dead. The king was a shell of a man. Emile was her friend. And Grimm was everything.

Not quite so similar at all, then.

Like Tindle and his damned dress.

One blood-red velvet and gilded throne sat empty in the middle of the dais. Waiting for her.

Emile strode to the centre, his golden robes billowing and all whispers dying out as Agatha climbed the two steps to meet him there.

"Breathe," the Grand Magus whispered, just loud enough for her alone to hear. "I'll be quick." He offered her a gentle smile and the swiftest of winks before turning to those gathered in attendance. "Citizens of Seagovia!" His voice rang out in the marble and stone room. "It is with my greatest pleasure that I crown your new Sovereign Queen before you all and before Our Holy Goddess Three. A queen of the people, of all people in this sovereign land, mortal and witch alike. Of which Her Majesty sees no difference. All are equal in her eyes and in the eyes of Hespa."

" Convenu ," the attendees murmured in unison.

Emile held aloft the Sacred Text of Hespa. Agatha expected him to read some fluff Scripture common to such royal ceremonies. To her immense surprise, he turned to a page marked at the back and began reading something she'd never heard before.

"O, afflicted one,

O Daughter lashed by storms and left alone,

I shall rebuild you with obsidian,

make your battlements of moonstone.

I shall protect your heart of garnet,

your soul of amethyst,

and all your ways will be blessed

by We Three .

Maiden, Mother, and Crone."

Agatha's hands were trembling when Emile's voice finished echoing across the room. She watched in watery silence as he set the Sacred Text on a lectern, and someone handed him a white fur cape. He stepped forward and fixed it around her shoulders with a golden clasp. It fit perfectly beneath the shoulder adornment Tindle had given her dress, to the point it couldn't have been a coincidence.

"Do you," Emile's voice rang out again, "Agatha Peridot, vow to protect this kingdom and all her inhabitants with the same fervour Our Goddess Three has vowed to protect you?"

I will not cry , she gritted out inwardly, perilously close to doing so. "I do."

Emile gestured to Grimm, who came to stand next to her. "It is with the power vested in me by the grace of Our Goddess Three, Hespa; Mother, Maiden, and Crone, that I pronounce you Sovereign Queen Agatha Louise Joubert Peridot."

Grimm took the Crown of Seagovia, a heavy diadem of reds and golds, in his hands as Emile took the velvet pillow from him. With a smirk of pride that shot through the bond so heavily she had to fight to stay afoot, Grimm set the heavy crown upon her head—upon her life. In unison, he and Emile turned Agatha to face her gathered people. Anne darted out from what seemed like thin air to straighten her skirts behind her.

Grimm took a knee, followed by Emile. Then, one by one, every person in attendance hit their knees. Chill bumps ran up her arms, and tears built behind her eyes. Her first order of business before leaving for Achlys would be to ensure no one ever knelt before her again.

Except maybe Grimm.

She just caught the equivalent of his snort through the bond before he stood and shouted. "Long live the queen!"

The crowd rose, echoing his call in a deafening cacophony. All except for one voice.

One voice that made obscene catcalls. Agatha's eyes followed where the sound came from, locking eyes with her obnoxious Sister Spring. Then, her Sister Winter and Sister Summer.

She would burn this world down for these people if she had to.

Most of all, her Sisters Solstice.

The guests had been greeted, the coronation ball set in motion, and her gown blessedly changed. Agatha, Grimm, and Emile had snuck away from the festivities, three trays of food in tow. She watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Grimm sat in their private chambers, stoic and rigid, pretending he wasn't impressed with the plan Emile was laying out. Drifting through the bond was a burgeoning tolerance.

Quit looking at me like that.

Like what? she teased, Emile's voice drowned out in her head as Grimm spoke to her there.

Like the moment he leaves you're going to sing told you so, told you so until I cover my ears.

Oof. Too bad covering your ears doesn't work anymore.

Little witch, I'm going to ? —

"Your Highness?"

Grimm startled at Emile's voice, and Agatha laughed outright. "We're listening, von Fuchs. Go on."

It truly was a solid plan. Though Emile had given far too many details, most likely for being so worried Grimm would disapprove of something, the basis was simple. Effective. Augustus would ensure the soldiers were ready and prepared for anything that might come at Seagovia in the natural sense. Tindle would aid Winnie and Laurent from afar in organising the factions Grimm and Gaius had set in place years ago, ensuring they were stationed in prime positions to thwart any of Chresedia's efforts across Seagovia, as best they were able. Dulci would continue to smooth over the rough edges between the mortal and magical, promoting peace through relief efforts led by witches. Anne, sweet Anne, was in charge of foreign affairs. Agatha's heart swelled to think that Emile had placed such a task in Anne's hands. He spoke with the utmost confidence that she would ensure all the leaders of Midlerea knew what was potentially coming without instilling fear or divulging too much unnecessary information, causing problems later. Last but certainly not least, Emile would rally the witches, warlocks, and mages himself, bringing them together in secret and pleading with them to enlist in the fight against Chresedia on the eclipse.

"Thoughts, Your Majesty?"

They were Emile's words, but Agatha glowered at Grimm before turning to Emile. Grimm mouthed an offended, "Why are you mad at me ?"

"Emile, hear me because this is a command as your queen…" Gross . She hated herself for saying something so absurd, but he needed to listen. "Do not call me Your Majesty just because Grimm is in the room now, and you don't want to make him angry."

A dark, timbrous laugh trickled through her head and flushed up her chest.

"We don't have the luxury of letting fear dictate our behaviour, most of all within our own council. So buck the fuck up, buttercup. Do not alter yourself around us. You were someone else for too damned long, and I don't care what turmoil you have with Grimm, you just sat here and dealt out an exemplary plan. Stand by it and do not cower."

Emile sat straighter, and she could see every deep line etched into his face. At least a century had caused those lines. One that he couldn't even remember much of.

"I'll do my best, Agatha."

"Good." She smoothed her mulberry skirts. "Your trial run begins now. We are headed to Araignée in the morning."

His mouth gaped like a fish for only a moment before he gathered himself, stern and confident. "Of course."

GAIUS

Arielle smacked Gaius' hand away. "I know which one is which. Stop hovering."

Gaius lifted his hands in a mock surrender Arielle could sense but not see, and retreated to sit on a nearby stool, watching her tinker with the chemicals before her. Over the last moon, he'd learned that she was not a woman who relished assistance of any kind. Nor was she a woman who gave up easily.

He considered telling her the gurgling liquid was turning a putrid green instead of its intended golden yellow, but she would have only snapped at him, then apologised, then asked him to leave if he wasn't going to be helpful—even though helping was exactly what he was doing.

Arielle was the sweetest spitfire. And he was madly in love with her, terrifying as it was. He hadn't slept a wink in the last moon. When he wasn't working, he spent every morsel of a moment with Arielle, often talking with her until almost sunrise. It was strictly against the rules of Araignée to fraternise after curfew, but Sorscha had successfully gotten Asa to make said curfew later—and he suspected she was working on eradicating the damned thing. Most nights, he would sneak from his room and into Arielle's with Sorscha's help.

Despite his sleeplessness, the days were fulfilling, if not exhausting in and of themselves. Just after Arielle's arrival, Lena and Paulo had both agreed he was ready to prepare elixirs for the residents. It was an immense honour. Something that made him feel that he'd finally found his place in the world. A place where he was both hermit and hero as Sorscha had said.

Each day, he rose early, spending the peaceful hours pre-dawn to use all he'd learned of chymistry—blending the spiritual and physical into elixirs. Lena would come in after the morning meal and send wisps of magic into each vial. Then, together, they and some of the others in the healing abbey—some mage, some mortal like him—would hand deliver them to each patient in the infirmary .

Gaius' first time there had been gut-wrenching. " This is where their bodies heal of addiction, so their souls and magic may be healed as well ," Lena had told him that first day. And it was there that all the brothel workers Asa and Sorscha brought in from their Hunt healed. Some screaming, some trembling. Others slept like the dead or picked at their skin. " They hurt without the Sugar. It's painful to watch, but I assure you, this is the better way. They masked their pain with the drug, and they cannot be whole until they can face life without it. "

Sorscha had called Araignée a cult, but Gaius took solace in the fact that all had come of their own volition, and almost all chose to stay. Once they were clean, no longer ruled by their addictions, they spent time with Lena or one of the other leaders doing what they referred to as Shadow Work—facing the inner turmoil and trauma that had led to the addiction in the first place. For many of them, it had begun with the syphoning of their magic by Chresedia for simply having something she wanted. It left them all but dead, their lives clinging to what was left of their magic. For others, they had spent time in The Order and had their memories taken, barely escaping with their lives. Some had merely had hard, painful lives that were not kind to them, or they were the fodder for being near a moment of Chresedia's madness.

The journey in the healing abbey was how Gaius had confronted the difficult fact that his mother had been a mage. That she'd faced Chresedia and had not gotten away. Between Arielle and Lena, they'd all been able to piece together enough to land on what had truly happened that dark day to his family. Lena had not known his mother, but she'd known the Zivai family in the distant past through her mother .

Thinking that his mother could have been found by Asa or one of the others and brought to Araignée but was not… It felt cruel. A mist almost, but not quite, caught. Regardless, it had brought him an odd sort of peace and closure to finally understand for certain what happened to his family.

He was content to leave it at that, but Arielle insisted he could have traces of his mother's magic living within him. Gaius, however, thought that was rubbish and dismissed it immediately.

"Gaius." A voice interrupted his thoughts, one of the abbey healers poking his head in at the door. It was wonderful not to be called lord all the time. "Sorscha has returned."

Gaius shot up, striding swiftly toward the hall. "Is anyone with her?"

"Yes. She arrived with several people."

He pushed past the man, Arielle close at his heels. He shouted for the healer to extinguish the experiments they'd just abandoned. Arielle said nothing as they descended the stairs and walked briskly across the great valley of Araignée. She was likely just as anxiously excited as he was. Gaius clenched his hands in and out of fists, too many sharp-edged emotions coming simultaneously.

"Do you think he's with them?" Arielle finally dared to whisper, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"Gods, I hope so."

Agatha and Sorscha had sent word a moon ago that he was safe. Whole. But they both needed to see for themselves. Their brother. Arielle's brother by blood in lives she could hardly recall, and Gaius' chosen brother in the only life he knew.

He could just make out five figures, mere shadows in the bright sun, near the cave entrance to Araignée. Had it truly only been a matter of moons since he'd walked through that cavemouth himself and never wanted to leave? It felt like a lifetime ago, all its own.

One of the shapes was thick and bulky, confusing Gaius until they came close enough to realise it was Sorscha accosting Asa, her legs wrapped around his middle. Before they made it two more steps, one of the other figures was darting toward him rapidly, wild copper hair flying out behind her. He caught Aggie mid-air as she jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck as he squeezed her in a tight embrace.

"Am I supposed to hug the queen like this?" he teased.

Aggie laughed and sniffled. "Oh, stuff it."

She gave him one more squeeze, and he set her down, wholly unprepared for the assault of emotion that would slam into him the moment she stepped aside to reveal Grimm standing there.

Nearly three decades of brotherhood passed between them in the charged silence. Grimm ran his hand through his hair, and Gaius rushed him, his vision white-hot with rage and pent-up grief he hadn't known he still carried. Steady as a boulder, Grimm watched him come, not even flinching as Gaius slammed his fist into his jaw.

"You godsdamned masochist !" Gaius spat, shocked by the emotion choking him. "I thought you were going to fucking die !"

He was vaguely aware of shouting behind them and Aggie snarling at everyone to leave them alone. A dribble of blood slid from Grimm's nostril and hurt filled Gaius. What had his friend endured? According to Arielle, much, much worse than a bloody nose. According to Aggie, he was now even enduring the loss of his mother. All for them, for their realm. Grimm would forever insist it was all for Agatha, and Gaius was certain that was true, but looking his friend, his brother, in the eye for the first true time in seven moons, he knew it was for all of them.

Wordlessly, Grimm stepped forward and clasped his arms roughly around Gaius. "I missed you, too."

" Gods !" Sorscha shouted from off to the side. "Get a room, you two!"

Both of them cleared their throats and pulled back. Blinking rapidly, they laughed, and Grimm clapped Gaius hard on the back. He spotted Arielle behind them and strode to wrap his sister in a hug as Gaius approached Sorscha.

He nodded his greetings to Wendolyn and Seleste while Sorscha punched him in the shoulder. Rubbing at the spot, he winced, pretending it hurt much more than it had. "Nice to see you again, too, arsehat."

Asa snorted and Sorscha gasped. "That's my term, thief!"

"All," Grimm interrupted their spat as he gestured to Arielle next to him, a small smile on her face. Standing side by side, their resemblance, even in this life, was uncanny. "This is my sister, Arielle."

One of Wendolyn's brows rose before she dipped into a half-hearted curtsy. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Aggie reached out and squeezed Arielle's hand in greeting. "Grimm has told me so much about you."

Asa grunted, unenthused, and Seleste came forward to lock arms with Arielle. It struck Gaius for the first time that the two women might have much in common to bond over. Seleste, in fact, reminded him quite a lot of his mother, and he wished he'd had more time with Sister Summer. Alas, Grimm's presence in Araignée and the coming eclipse most likely meant he would never come to know Seleste.

"What a lively bunch we all are," Wendolyn muttered, inspecting her nails. "It really is lovely to meet you, Arielle, but…" She turned to her left. "Asa, I know we've only just met, but be a dear and lead us out of this accursed heat."

"I second that," Aggie piped up, her arm winding through Grimm's.

A man of very little flourish and with no desire to entertain guests, Asa led them directly to the place they'd all convened in order to visit: the cavernous library.

Agatha all but squealed when they walked inside, and Grimm had a look of pure lust on his face as he roamed the stacks. "Little witch," Gaius heard him murmur to Aggie, "think of all the times your father spent in this place."

Gaius halted, Arielle doing the same, and he watched Aggie's face slit through several emotions in the dim light before settling on something akin to wistfulness.

"I wonder which was his favourite table to sit at," she finally said.

Asa came up behind them and pointed to the far corner with little delicacy. "That one. Ambrose always wanted his back against a wall, even here in the safety of Araignée."

"Ah, well," Grimm said, "safety is only an illusion, my friend."

The general stormed off without an answer, growling at Sorscha for handling a tattered old tome with carelessness.

"I could stay here forever," Aggie said as Gaius and Arielle approached, "just imagining my parents here." A melancholy smile spread across her face, too forced. "We'd better get on with it, though. "

Seleste snuck up out of nowhere. "When all of this is over, Sister, you and I should return here and learn all we can get our hands on."

"Come on, whores!" Sorscha called over her shoulder, earning her a glare from Asa. "Let's go slice our palms and get this shindig started."

"Yes, let's." Winnie pushed past all of them. "If I don't return soon, Lau will have trained the Druids into the ground."