She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Not with all the puzzle pieces clicking into place, faster and faster. “I know who your parents were to my mother. Not close, exactly, but close enough that she preferred me to be the one to deliver their punishment. I thought it was the first offense, but she also neglected to mention they had a child at one point.” An intentional omission in hindsight. Revealing that knowledge after their abuse became public would open my mother up to uncomfortable questions.
Questions I now want answers to.
I might be able to write it all off as coincidence if not for the assassin’s target. Not me. Not Broderick. Either of us would make more sense. If Broderick dies on Amazon territory, it will mean war between Raider and Amazon. If I do, it means the same thing. It wouldn’t matter that the surviving members claimed a Mystic was behind the death. They would be called a liar because of the nature of our relationship.
But Shiloh?
No one is going to war for our girl. No one is hurt by her loss except me and Broderick. No one gains from her death…
Unless her existence is a secret someone doesn’t want shared.
Someone like my mother.
The thought makes me sick, but my mother is more than capable of it. She’s willing to leave Winry hanging in the wind; how much more so would she do the same to some child unrelated to her by blood? A small price to pay, a cost weighed against a thousand things she has moving in her head.
I know about making hard choices. I’ve been doing it for years now, and when I’m queen, it will only get that much more challenging. It’s what I’m trained for.
It doesn’t make it right.
Finally, Broderick releases a breath. “We’ll come with you. Back you up.”
“You really don’t have to—”
“Monroe.” Shiloh puts her hand on my arm. “We’re coming with you.”
I start to argue but… I don’t want to. I want them with me. Having these two at my back is comforting in a way I can hardly put into words. Finally, I nod. “We need the body.”
“On it.” Broderick climbs down from the driver’s seat and strides to where I left the body in the middle of the street.
Shiloh squeezes my arm. “How close?”
“Do you want the comforting lie or the scary truth?” When she gives me a look, I sigh. “Another few minutes and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’m not certain whether or not the poison has long-term effects, either. Usually when the assassins get close enough to use their darts, it’s too late.”
I almost lost her.
The reality of that sets in, sending shakes through my body. I want to cling to Shiloh, to run my hands over her until I’m satisfied that she’s really here, really safe. I settle for leaning in and kissing her lightly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says faintly.
The truck dips as Broderick dumps the body in the bed of it. He wastes no time reclaiming the driver’s seat and putting it into gear. “You sure about this?”
No. There’s only one path forward, and it terrifies me. There must be consequences for putting a child in danger, even if it was decades ago. It’s not the same penalty as actually doing the harm, but even my mother isn’t exempt from it.
Pushing forward with justice means I’m going to lose everything.
I look at Broderick, at Shiloh. We always knew this was temporary, but I thought I had more time. I needed the next ten months. Now, our time together numbers in the hours instead of months. It doesn’t matter if I’m a Bride. Brides don’t have to reside in the same location as their partners do. It’s unspoken tradition, but it’s not a law the same way as consummating the handfasting or keeping the Bridal peace. We’ll figure it out. The peace will hold, but this is happening one way or another. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He takes me at my word.
The drive to the main tower takes no time at all. I direct Broderick to park against the curb, and then we grab the body and head into the building through the front door. I don’t normally bring bloody business in this way, but don’t want to give my mother the chance to shove this mess under the rug and pretend it never happened. The Amazons in the lobby stare, but they make no move to interfere as we stride to the elevator and step inside.
I’m heir, after all.
Soon enough, I’ll be their queen.
The receptionist, Gladys, sees me coming and jumps to her feet. “Monroe—”
“Is my mother in her office?”
Gladys attention snags on the body over Broderick’s shoulder, and she pales. “Yes.”
“Thank you.” I lead the way back to the corner office where my mother spends most of her time. It’s decorated similarly to mine, classic and chic with an emphasis on the windows and the view they offer. I couldn't give a shit about the view right now.
I step aside, letting Broderick and Shiloh into the room, and then shut the door behind me. “It’s time to talk, Mother.”
If my mother is surprised to see Shiloh alive and walking, she doesn’t show it. Then again, she’s always had one hell of a poker face. She folds her hands and raises her brows. “Is there a reason you have a dead Mystic in my office? We’ve worked rather hard to avoid inter-faction conflict.”
“Mmm.” I cross my arms over my chest. If I let her get control of this conversation, it won’t end well for anyone. “I’m more worried about conflict within the faction. The Amazon queen contracting a Mystic assassin to kill one of her own
