Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

The east tower had been abandoned for years, its windows dark and door barred against intruders.
Perfect for a clandestine meeting that could cost both our lives if discovered. I climbed the winding stairs in darkness, counting steps by memory, my silk slippers silent on stone worn smooth by centuries of use.
Kael was already waiting in the circular room at the top, a shadow among shadows beside the great window that overlooked the kingdom. Moonlight painted silver lines across his angular face, making him look more like a specter than a man.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said without turning around. "Thought maybe you'd decided I was part of the trap after all."
"The thought occurred to me." I closed the heavy door behind me, sliding the iron bar into place. We were locked in together now—safe from interruption, but also trapped if this went badly. "But then I realized something. If you'd wanted me dead, you've had plenty of opportunities."
"More than you know." He finally faced me, and I saw something raw and vulnerable in his expression. "I was hired to kill you six months ago, Seraphina. Been living in your walls, learning your routines, waiting for the perfect moment."
The confession should have terrified me. Instead, I felt an odd sense of relief—finally, someone willing to speak truth in a palace built on lies. "What changed?"
"You did." He moved closer, and I caught the scent of leather and steel that always clung to him. "The first time I saw you execute those traitors, I expected to see a monster. Instead, I saw justice. Ruthless, yes, but clean. Honest in its brutality."
"And that stayed your hand?"
"That made me curious enough to keep watching. To learn who you were beneath the reputation."
His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I've killed innocent people, Seraphina. But you're not innocent, and that's what makes you worth saving."
The distinction hit me like a physical blow. He was right—I'd never been innocent, not since my first execution at sixteen. Blood on my hands, death in my wake, power built on the bones of those who'd opposed me. But I'd never been cruel without cause, never killed without reason.
"Show me the rest of it," I said, moving to stand beside him at the window. "The letter was only part of the message, wasn't it?"
Wordlessly, he produced another document—this one bearing my father's seal. As I read, my blood turned to liquid ice. It was a contract, written in the formal language of old magic, binding the "last heir of the skull throne" to serve as a "willing sacrifice for the greater binding."
Willing. As if my consent would somehow make the betrayal clean.
"They need my blood freely given," I realized aloud. "That's why the charade, why the wedding. They need me to walk into death willingly, believing I'm saving the kingdom."
"Will you?" The question was barely audible, but it hung between us like a blade.
I was quiet for a long moment, considering. Below us, the kingdom slept peacefully, unaware that their princess was contemplating treason in a tower room with an enemy assassin. "What do you think happens if I refuse? If I expose this tomorrow before the ceremony?"
"Civil war. Your father has already positioned loyalist forces throughout the capital. Anyone who supports you dies, and he claims the throne as regent until a 'suitable' heir can be found."
"And if I go through with it? Submit to their willing sacrifice?"
"The same result, eventually. But at least the kingdom survives the transition."
I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter in the enclosed space. "You know what's funny? I considered it. Walking into that ceremony tomorrow, letting them think they'd won, right up until the moment I cut both their throats instead of my own."
Kael's intake of breath was sharp. "And now?"
"Now I'm wondering if there's a third option." I turned to face him fully, studying the planes and angles of his face in the moonlight. "You said you were hired to kill me. By whom?"
"Lord Cassius Thornfield. Your future father-in-law wants you dead before the wedding night, in case his son develops inconvenient feelings for his bride."
The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity. Three separate plots, all aimed at my death, but for different reasons. Father needed my willing sacrifice to complete his binding ritual. Lord Cassius wanted me dead to protect his political position. And somewhere in the middle, Prince Aldric remained an unknown quantity.
"What about your client?" I asked. "What happens to you when I don't die on schedule?"
Something dark flickered across his features. "That depends. Are you planning to die on schedule?"
I moved closer, close enough to see the pulse beating in his throat, close enough to smell the dangerous combination of steel and skin that made my head spin. "That depends on whether you're planning to kill me."
"I should." His voice was rough, strained. "It would be easier. Cleaner."
"But you won't."
"No." The admission seemed torn from somewhere deep in his chest. "God help me, no."
The distance between us disappeared in a rush of silk and shadows, his mouth finding mine with desperate hunger. I tasted blood and lies and the bitter sweetness of betrayal, and wanted more. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel something real in a world built entirely on deception.
When we broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against mine. "This is madness," he whispered.
"Everything is madness," I replied. "At least this madness is ours."