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Yet that was selfish of me, to indulge and shut away all my problems. Guilt claws down my back now, because Digby might be wasting away in a dungeon somewhere for all I know, while I’m up here indulging in Slade’s company and complaining about how sweet the food is. What kind of horrible person does that?

Cutting through the thick silence, Lu says, “I know how it feels when bad shit happens and it’s your fault,” she says matter-of-factly. I appreciate her no-nonsense tone. I’m grateful that she doesn’t try to tell me it wasn’t my fault, to absolve me from my guilt. “When Rip put me in charge of the right flank, I was cocky as hell about it. But then we had our first battle, and I lost a lot of good men and women.”

I glance up at her, watching her eyes cast into the flames of the fire, her dark skin aglow with its warmth.

“Every life lost...it was on me, you know? I was responsible for commanding them, and every direction caused some to live and others to die.”

She lifts a hand to scrub over the shapes of daggers cut into her hair, and I suddenly wonder if there’s a significance for those symbolic blades.

“When you feel responsible for death...that stays with you. It sticks to the soles of your feet every time you take a step.”

I nod slowly in understanding, and Lu lets out a breath, face stoic as she sits up straighter. “But that’s the curse of the survivors. We have to live with our dead.”

When I think about all the people who have died because of me, my shoulders weigh down. “Living with the dead is harder than living with the living.”

Her gaze jumps to mine, turning mischievous. “Unless that living happens to be the golden king prick.”

I snort and shake my head. “You have no idea.”

With a laugh, she sets down the wine glass and points at it. “Our wine barrel is better than this stuff.”

“I agree.” Abandoning the scone, I set it down and get to my feet. “So, you’re really going to be able to sneak me out of here?”

Lu gives me a look. “Don’t insult me, Gildy.”

I hold up my hands placatingly. “Alright, alright. Let me just get dressed.”

It just takes me a few minutes, and when I come out of my dressing room, I’m in a new gown and my hair is no longer a rat’s nest. I also may have taken a little bit of extra time on my appearance for a certain king, so I chose my dress with care and only snapped two of the boning inlays in the corset. The things you do for the males you sleep with.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, coming back out as I pull on my coat.

Lu springs up fluidly from the chair. “Finally.” She walks over, holding out the book she had this whole time.

When I look down and see what it is, my eyes go wide. “How did you get that?”

“It was just sitting out.”

I pin her with a look. “It was stuffed into one of the gowns in my dressing room.”

Lu shrugs and slips into her thick black coat. “You need better hiding spots.”

Shaking my head, I take the fae book and put it into the inside pocket of my coat. Lu leads the way out of the balcony, and before I even close the door behind us, she’s leaping up onto the railing.

“Lu—”

Without hesitation, she bends her knees and then goes flipping right off of it.

I gasp and rush over, but Lu’s perfectly maneuvered herself and somehow managed to grab onto the railing of the next balcony over. In some crazy acrobatic feats, and making it look much easier than it actually is, she kicks off and spins her body and then lands in a perfect crouch onto the snowy ground below.

I just gape down at her in the dark. “How the hell did you do that?” I hiss.

She smirks. “Easily.”

With a huff, I

wrap all of my ribbons around the railing before climbing up onto it. Gripping half of them, I have my ribbons slowly lower me down as far as they’ll go. The other half stretches to the next balcony, and I swing myself over, and then I repeat the process again.

When I finally land on the ground, my arms are shaking and I’m breathing hard.


Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy