Phil squinted at him. "What do you think happened?" His papery face crumpled and tears glistened in his eyes. "There are no troops. Only Ellie's men survived."

"What?" Erick waited for more, for the truth. He couldn't have slept while his men fought and died. Not again. Had he fainted like a coward? He'd brandished a sword. He remembered the cold steel in his hand. He'd meant to protect her, to die for her.

"Six hundred, Erick. Against our two hundred. There was nothing you could do. That son of a bitch had them waiting. Reiley must have planned this before he set foot in Biston. All that talk about a trade agreement." Phil wiped his eyes. "It was just to toy with us while they trickled in."

How? Wait. That's why Reiley had slipped out in the night four days ago, to make preparations. Phil was right. "Why Violet, though? Why didn't he take Eleanor?"

Phil cursed. "Eleanor is Violet. Who do you think saved you last night? Look around. Can anything but magic do this?"

She couldn't be Violet. Though they felt similar. Their magic in his mouth and on his skin. The way she'd felt inside when he'd taken advantage in her imaginary world. Erick squeezed his eyes shut and forced the memory away. Wrong. He shouldn't have. If Violet ever found that. "Eleanor doesn't have spells." Not beyond harsh healing and dark enchantments that twisted men's minds. Dangerous only by the power of unshielded men she could seduce to carry out her biddings. Anre had wisely kept all other spells from the brat.

Had Violet lashed out in desperation when he failed to protect her? His throat knotted up. He should have hidden her away. He should have fought. How could he let two hundred soldiers die without lifting a finger? Again.

"You don't believe me? Ask Eleanor."

The little demon would only torture him. He didn't have time for this.

Men's voices sounded outside. Erick staggered to the window, hoping to see evidence of something else, anything else. But gray-and-black-uniformed bodies lay in bloody piles. Servants hauled them with wheelbarrows and loaded them into wagons. Hundreds of Bistonian men lay waiting for holes in the dirt. The stench of death rose on an icy breeze.

He'd failed. As a king, as a lover, as a man, he'd failed. Emptiness sank in his belly.

His arm burned. Then he noticed it. A fresh scar, in the shape of a woman's hand, Violet's hand. A mark of protection. She'd stood over him with his sword in her grasp. "They killed Violet, didn't they?" Why else would her mask lie in a puddle of blood? She'd died for him, like his three oath-brothers had. Because of his weakness. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Where's the body, then?" Phil barked. "Open your eyes."

"To what? A kingdom of dead men? Because of a girl I hate. I'd have given him the girl to save those men. To save Violet." If he'd been awake. Five years ago, he'd have given his life to spare his oath-brothers. But it was the same then. He was a coward and a failure. His head ached and he longed for numbing nothingness. "I don't want to hear any more about Eleanor. Ship the girl off and let the elves come. I'm done." He snatched a bottle from its hiding place behind his nightstand. "Get out."

Their blood wouldn't come off. She'd scrubbed until cold chilled the bathwater but she still felt it under her fingernails and in her hair. She couldn't see it but it was there. Worse, their memories looped in endless circles around her mind. They wouldn't leave.

Eleanor sobbed and shivered, curled in a tight ball. Her numb fingers and toes had pruned. Her skin had darkened to the color of death, the color of the bodies outside.

"Shhh. It's okay." Meagan rubbed her back but it didn't help. "Come on out of the tub, Elle."

"I can't. They're still on me." She'd killed them. Not just with her spells. She'd used Erick's sword to run them through. They'd just stood there, unmoving, unsuspecting. Innocent men following orders. They had families and dreams. How many wives had she widowed? How man children had she orphaned? For what? One man, a man who didn't even know he loved her. Even if he did, was he worth the lives of hundreds, of thousands? How many men had she killed before this? Why had she repeated the same mistake?

"You're going to freeze to death." Meagan wrapped a towel around Eleanor's shoulders.

She deserved worse for what she did. Earth, she was a demon. Erick was right to fear and hate her. Why couldn't she be human? Reiley wouldn't have sent an army if she was human.

Meagan's warm hands slid under Eleanor's arms. "Come on, Elle," Meagan groaned with frustration when she couldn't lift Eleanor out. "If you don't get out of there, I swear I'll get your guards to do it."

"They can't. Not anymore." She had spells now, courtesy of Bradley. Though she hadn't the energy. Her teeth chattered and exhaustion drooped her eyelids.

The door burst open and she jumped. Cold water splashed out of the tub on to the melting floor.

In the doorway, Phil squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. "Get dressed. Erick needs you."

She'd done enough for Erick. "No." She didn't want to see anyone. Rather, she didn't want anyone to see her.

"I understand you're hurting. But there's work to be done. Wallowing won't make it better. You need to keep busy."

He'd said the same thing last time. That he'd been through this too, during the Revolution. But he didn't really know. It wasn't the same. He could distance himself and see them as objects, emotionless and detached. Their thoughts didn't bleed into his head.

"Do you think Ceres does this after a battle?"

"No." The brutal woman probably bathed in her enemies' blood. Ceres thrilled in the sensations of battle. Eleanor couldn't see how but maybe she was doing something wrong. Maybe there was a way to block out their leaked thoughts.

She rose from the chilly water and clutched her towel tight, aching body trembling. "What does Erick want?"

"You need to tell him."

"No." He'd hate her even more if he knew. It was too soon. Besides, for the past five years, Phil had told her not to.

Chapter Eighteen.

December 27, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston

He gulped the last of the whiskey but the golden goodness didn't soften the lump in his gut. The bottle slipped from his grip onto the wet floor. It should have shattered but it rolled away and halted at Eleanor's foot.

Through bloodshot eyes, the brat had the nerve to glare at him. Probably fresh from another tantrum over how he'd screwed up. "Go play with your blocks. Let my brain rot. I have nothing to pay you with anyway."

But she stood there, clutching what looked like laundry. Knuckles white, fingers blue, she held it tight to her chest.

The room cleared out as if from her silent command. Their gazes avoided her. Fear. It squeaked out from their overfilled heads. She must have threatened them.

Eleanor unwrapped the cotton bundle. Underneath, blood, red and glistening stained his robe. Heavy with the dark fluid, it fell from her arms and slapped the floor. His sword clamored after it.

Everything clicked then. "Have you come to finish the job? Go on then. Finish me." He rose from his throne but the floor angled up and toppled him back onto the chipped stone seat.

Tears trickled down her face and her lower lip curled down with a sob that she quickly covered. "Why would you think that?"

It would be the perfect ending to his failures. For a demon to make the last blow. "This was all your elven uncle's work. Andraste sent Porter to do this, to kill Violet. Was Reiley supposed to make me jealous? It was all a trick, wasn't it? And you played the innocent lamb."

"I'm not innocent but I didn't trick you. Not like that. A different trick. Not to hurt you. I was just so lonely and I missed you." Her voice rose to a weeping pitch. She blinked tears, misery in her reddened eyes.

"So you killed her." The jealous demon had laid hands on his Violet, his flower and crushed the life from her. He'd told Eleanor he loved Violet and this was the result. He'd failed to protect his love. The thought squeezed his chest and burned his dizzied mind. Oh, the demon would pay. Erick clenched his fists and dug his heels into the wobbly floor, readying to lunge at the creature.

"Violet doesn't exist," Eleanor yelled. "Look at me. Same body. Same mouth. Same voice. Are you really so blind or do you hate me so much that you'll believe anything else?"

Lies. Despite the physical likeness due to their similar breeding, Eleanor could never be so delicate and sweet. He motioned to his bloody garment. "What's this, then?" The demonic creature carried darkness wherever she trod.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I borrowed it and your sword." She briefly glanced up at him and wiped her face. "You aren't a coward. You didn't faint. Last time either."

Everything stilled. The floor leveled and Erick rose. "Stay the fuck out of my head."

"Just listen. I borrowed your energy. It was the only way to save you. I was afraid you'd never forgive me if you knew what I did. We were doing so well and I..."

"What did you do?"

"I..." She huffed out breath but didn't finish. Instead she spilled out memories from last night and five years ago.

She'd killed them. His three oath-brothers. She'd sent them to their deaths while he lay unconscious and drained on the floor.

"It was the only way. Ceres would have slaughtered everyone. I wasn't strong enough to fight her alone, Erick. I was only fourteen years old. What was I supposed to do?" she sobbed. "She didn't know who I was until she found us and I begged her to spare your life. I was in love. I still..."

"You were supposed to keep your fucking mouth shut. It wasn't your job. You had no right." They'd still be alive if not for her. He could have saved them.

"There was nothing you could do but die. I couldn't lose you." "So you killed them instead? Selfish..."

"They volunteered. They loved you too."

"No they wouldn't have been so stupid as to let a woman lead them in battle. Lies. This is just more of your tricks. Last night too." He grabbed her arms and shook her. He wanted to wring her neck but he needed to know. "Did you kill her or did Reiley take her?"

But the girl wept and tried to lean into him. Her awful perfume wafted up, making his body want something sick. His cock shouldn't harden for her.

Erick shoved her away.

She fell to the floor. Her hair spilled over her deceptive face and she shivered with her sobs. Her back heaved and she curled into a ball. Such a clever actress.

"Where is she?" He'd searched the entire palace for Violet and found nothing. No sign of her. "Get up. Tell me where she is." Erick reached to grab Eleanor but Phil's hand stopped him.

"Don't you dare," the old man growled.

Erick straightened and pulled free from Phil's grasp. "Are you in on this?" "You're drunk."

"I've never been more sober." The old man, his eldest oath-brother, Phil, had been there from the beginning, always looking after Erick. Had Phil been duped too? "She's a demon."

Phil struck him then. "She's your queen and you owe her your life for what little it's worth. Lay a harsh hand on her again and I'll make you regret it."

Head turned, blinded by a flash of light, Erick touched his bloody lip. The sting spread deeper, into his chest. Phil had never lost his temper before. What the hell happened?

"Get yourself cleaned up and clear your head. You aren't thinking straight." Phil helped Eleanor up as if she really was the wounded girl she pretended to be.

"You win, Eleanor. Fly away free. I won't keep you. Freeze in the mountains for all I care. If I ever see you again..."

"Shut up, Erick," the old man shouted.

Her wails rose and Phil hurried her stumbling form out of the throne room.

She shoved another jar of preserves into her bag and tightened the drawstring. "I can't wait for spring," she said again, voice nasal from crying. Meagan refused to understand.

"But Elle, you'll die. Please, just wait it out. He was drunk. After he sleeps it off, he'll apologize."

Eleanor sniffled and rubbed her raw nose. "Yeah, right." Even if he did, words couldn't earn her forgiveness. She'd shared her darkest secret with him and he judged her in the brief moment he believed her. "I'd rather die than see him again." She slung her bag over her shoulder and latched the straps. If only Bradley had had the spells she needed to survive the snow.

Meagan grabbed her arm. "Wait. I don't want you to die. There's another way. Ask her."

"Who?"

With a nervous squeak, Meagan pointed up and scrunched her face. "The demon," she whispered.

"She isn't a demon. She's just a woman who was mistreated." Erick's father probably deserved her vindictive punishments.

"She might know how you can cross the mountains."

Eleanor bit her lip. It didn't matter anymore what scars the woman would leave in her mind. Erick wouldn't know and he wouldn't care. She'd never see him again. The thought made her chest burn. She hated him. "You can't come with me."

Meagan nodded and rubbed her eyes. "I'll be your lookout." Her callused hand scraped Eleanor's and squeezed. "Come on."

Through the halls, Eleanor's heart pounded. She shouldn't be afraid. It would just be a quick cut in her head. Then the pain would soften to a bearable throb. She could do this.

But at the base of the tower, Eleanor stalled.

"I'll be right here for you," Meagan assured her.

That didn't help. Meagan couldn't soothe away the pain afterwards.

The young maid released Eleanor's hand and shoved her toward the door. "Go on." It opened on its own. Inside, dark steps spiraled up into pitch black. "Go on."

Feet heavy, each step strained her. Up the stairs, warmth grew, probably from her pounding heart.

Strangely, water didn't slick the steps. The tower hadn't frozen. How much power did Erick's mother have here? How could elves keep a hybrid prisoner on mortal land? Elves couldn't offer enough power to attract rogue elementals on mortal land. Only a strong hybrid like Ceres had the strength to perform any spell of elven kings' magic anywhere. Did Erick's mother have rogue elementals hidden? Was the prison a trick?

Not all hybrids are like Ceres, child. Some are more like elves.

It normally frightened her when Erick's mother did that but not today. The woman's thoughts actually calmed the pricklies in her stomach. Eleanor needed silent conversation after the misery of today.

The plastic door at the top opened and light spilled out. More warmth. It soothed the numbing chill from Eleanor's face and hands.