My feet slammed into the marble with each stride of my sprint. Never in all my life had the journey to Haya and Namir’s chambers felt so long. As soon as I reached the door, I heard another set of footsteps coming up behind me. Asad.


    “Be careful, Skwayar.” Asad said as I flung the door open.


    Nothing. No one was inside the room. I walked past the common area, closer to the King and Queen’s sleeping quarters, eyeing the canopy as a silhouette sat hunched atop the bed. Haya was crying in shrill sobs, making my heart sit in my throat as I inched closer. I witnessed my worst nightmare come to life the moment I drew that curtain back. The Queen sat there, hands bloodied as they cradled Namir’s lifeless face. His throat had been slit open, mouth agape as if ready to scream out for help. Haya’s frantic eyes scoured her husband’s expression, letting out wail after wail as she tried to jostle him awake.


    “Wake up, Themaz! Please!” She cried.


    Asad had his sword drawn when I looked back at him, surveying our surroundings to find the intruder.


    “Asad…” I said.


    He made eye contact with me, a knowing expression on his face as he crept to my side. Once his eyes fell upon his brother, he swallowed harshly.


    “You get Haya. I’ll get help.” He said urgently.


    I nodded, forcing myself to move and grab Haya by the arms. She fought against me the whole time, shrieking at me to let her go. I’d never seen her so emotive, so terror-stricken, in all my life. It took more strength than I’d imagined to hold her back, her fingernails clawing into me as she yowled and kicked against me.


    “Let me go! I have to help him, Abyad!”


    “Haya…you mustn’t move like that. You’re going to hurt yourself.” My arms tightened around her as she wriggled between my arms.


    “I don’t care! He’s my husband!” She yelled.


    I kept her close to my chest as Asad returned with a eunuch and maiden, who approached with anxious expressions as they walked from the living area to the bed. The two took Haya from me, trying their best to restrain her and guide her out of the room. I had to stifle the shudder that wanted to run down my spine as Asad approached the bed once more and grimaced.


    “You see it?” He asked.


    I returned my eyes to the carcass, a wispy shadow seeping from the laceration and dissipating into the air. Sulfur. The smell of sulfur stung my nose as soon as the shadow left his wound. I hadn’t smelt it so strong since Zarvan. I pushed the memory from my mind, refocusing on the scene before me.


    “I did.” I replied.


    I felt my eyes burning with tears as I took in the sight and smell. The confusion that welled within me grew stronger and stronger, tangling with pure rage and scorn.


    “Who would do such a thing?” I managed to ask.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    “A Cursed One.” Came a familiar voice in response.


    Asad and I whipped our heads around, watching Bròn materialize from the shadows and come to our side. He wore a saddened expression, his lips pulled into a thin line.


    “What Cursed One?”


    “Child of Death, Harbinger of Grief. The one I did most of me business with back in the day.” He replied.


    “You knew he was in the palace?”


    “Aye.”


    I almost lost my cool when I fully turned to face him, tightening my fist at my side. The only thing that stopped me from cocking it back and punching the culmination of shadows square in his jaw was the reminder of his power as he looked me dead in the eyes.


    “And you didn’t tell anyone?” I forced my voice to remain at an acceptable volume.


    “Nay.”


    His jaw clenched as he scanned my expression. Bròn could taste the anger within me, I could tell by how his eyes dimmed in the poorly lit room.


    “Powers That Be would’ve barred me, regardless.” He said quietly.


    My entire body felt stiff as a board, like each joint had been tightened by a wrench at each socket. The air came in and out of my lungs in faint huffs. I forced myself to look back over my shoulder and take in Namir’s body. It felt like I’d swallowed glass as I took the sight in once more.


    “How long has this Child of Death been in our lands?” Asad finally asked.


    “Nigh a half year.” Bròn replied.


    “A half—?!” I bit my tongue to keep from yelling. “Leave.”


    “Leave?”


    “I said. Leave.”


    Bròn cut me a sidelong glance, drawing in a deep breath and nodding. In a swift raise of his arm, he disappeared into the shadows.


    “We will keep his death a secret for the time being, Abyad.” Asad clamped my shoulder with his right hand. “We must focus first on Al’Haya and Al’Hala…”


    Shit.


    I hadn’t even thought of how to break the news to Hala. How could she handle the death of her father? I rubbed my face with my hand, a shaky breath loosing from my lips.


    “Asad…” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “How are we going to get through this?”


    “Jun Inaa, we face this as He wishes. We will handle this just as we handle everything—with faith and honor.”


    I drew my hands from my face, taken aback by the wisdom he’d just spoken. Despite my desire to reject his push of religion upon me in that moment—my desire to tell him the God we knew was a lie—Asad’s words were coming from a place of true, heartfelt emotion.


    “Yes…” I sighed. “We have no other choice, do we?”


    ————


    “Hala…” I said, opening the door to her room and meeting her gaze.


    She stood from the bed quicker than usual, taking my hands and looking at me with a worried, anticipatory expression. “What happened, Themaz? Why was Mother screaming like that?”


    “It’s Namir…” I said, swallowing harshly. “He’s…” The tears that had threatened my eyes earlier came flowing, the pressure in my sinuses growing.


    Hala’s face fell, her mouth twisting into a frown. “No…” She whispered. “He can’t be…Father is too strong to—“


    “He’s dead, Hala.” I spoke barely above a whisper.


    Her grip on my hands tightened, wringing them with ferocious strength as she leaned into my weight.


    “I refuse—“ she choked. “How?”


    “A Cursed One.”