The Queen of All that Dies
Page 46

“We do.” Never had I imagined my life leading me here, to this moment. Yet now that I’m here, I wonder if there is a beautiful design to things.
“Then tell me what it is,” the king says. Those intense eyes are fully focused on me.
He doesn’t know; he really has no clue when it’s quite obvious. It’s the secret he continually hides from.
“Everything that lives must eventually die.”
The surgery happens the next day, and just like the last time I was in the presence of a doctor, soldiers have to hold me down while the doctor administers the sedative.
The ordeal is one that should be solely reserved for the worst inhabitants of hell.
“Why are you fighting this?” the king asks me as he holds down my shoulders.
It’s a good question, especially since I want the cancer out. “That needle better not come any closer to me,” I say. Like I wield any power in this situation.
“Serenity, you need to be put under. You know this,” the king replies.
“No—please, no.”
“Christ,” the king says looking away, “Stop begging. I can’t take it.”
“Montes, please.”
“I’ll have to leave if you don’t stop.”
I lock eyes with him. “Don’t leave.”
He nods and I hold still. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel the needle enter my skin. The doctor kneeling next to me begins to talk. “I’m going to count back from one hundred. Follow along with me. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, …”
I repeat the numbers in my head, focusing on his voice until my eyes drop and my mind drifts off.
Chapter 20
Serenity
When I wake up, the king is at the side of my bed. He’s smiling and holding my hand. Almost reflexively I smile back at him. It’s strange to feel this way about anyone. The fact that the king is the one who’s opened my heart is just proof that fate is a cruel bitch.
“How long have I been out?” I ask.
“Not long, although now the entire hospital knows you snore.”
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t snore.”
The king smiles slyly. “You’re not the one who has to fall asleep next to you each evening.”
“Most people bring their loved ones gifts; instead you bring your effortless charm.”
He squeezes my hand tighter, and he leans in until his lips are barely an inch from mine. “How do you think I came to rule the world?”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, staring into his eyes, “and as an asshole, you’ve done a lot of asshole-ish things—including marrying me. That’s how you came to rule the world.”
The king touches my cheek. “Hmm. I think I like your dirty mouth better in the bedroom,” he says, and then he closes the remaining distance between our lips.
My mouth moves against his, my tongue enjoying the taste of him. It’s frightening how right he feels pressed this close to me. He has the same dark soul I do; he knows and embraces my sins, and I’m learning to accept his. I know he is dangerous to be around—dangerous to love—but my heart doesn’t seem to care.
I lift a hand and run it through his hair, my fingers rubbing a strand of it together. This thing of my nightmares is just as human as I am.
Finally, he pulls away. “I have a meeting I’ve been putting off until you awakened.” He glances at the clock hanging in the room. I can’t put it off too much longer, but …”
My hand slides from his hair to his cheek. “Go. I’ll be waiting here for you to return.”
He stands, looking reluctant to leave.
“The sooner you leave, the sooner I’ll be out of this godforsaken place,” I say. The shudder that ripples through me is very real. My skin crawls even now at the smell of disinfectants and sickness that lingers in the room. An epidemic tore through this land years ago. I’m sure many people filed through these doors only to perish.
The king bends down and kisses my forehead. “Promise me you won’t shoot anyone until I get back,” he says.
My lips waver before they tug up at the corners. “I won’t make a promise I can’t keep.”
The King
It’s not until the door to Serenity’s room clicks shut that I let the façade slip. I run a hand over my mouth and jaw, feeling my age even if I don’t look it. If my guards notice, they don’t say anything. Not if they want to continue getting their cushy paychecks.
She’s dying. The phrase repeats over and over in my head. That’s what the doctors here seem to think. They aren’t the only ones to think this, either. The royal physician had also pulled me aside, shook his head, and murmured his fears. Nothing official—it was a concern, not a diagnosis.
But several of the world’s best doctors sharing the same fears? I’d be a damn fool not to take their words seriously.
I grapple with emotions I’ve never fully experienced before. I hadn’t realized the depth of them—hadn’t realized I even could feel this way about someone.
I’d wanted Serenity’s affection, her fire, even her love—I just hadn’t realized I’d give anything back in the process.
I rub the skin over my heart. The thought of losing her after I’ve only just gotten her makes it twinge.
Marco meets me at the end of the hall. “Your Majesty,” he says in Basque, as he often does when he wants privacy, “how’s the queen doing?”
“Fine.”
Marco peers at me. We’ve known each other—trusted each other—since we were kids. The man can read me like a book.
“You talked to the doctor then?” Marco guesses.
Of course Marco would piece it together. I nod.
“And?”
I rub my eyes. “Doctor said the cancer had spread. The Sleeper reversed the damage, but …” I take a deep breath. My hands tremble slightly, “we don’t have the knowledge to stop the mutated cells from continuing to replicate.” Which means the cancer is still, at this moment, producing more malignant tissue inside Serenity.
The Sleeper can fend it off so long as it doesn’t move to her brain. But it inevitably will, and as soon as it does, it was game over. Not even the Sleeper has the ability to replicate the intricacies of the mind.
“So she’s … ?”