Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 22

I prowl up the stairs the way dusk creeps through a town. Silent and stealthy. Swallowed in darkness like a storm of death. Around and around, higher into the God of Souls' realm. As I arrive, at last, at the landing, a light cough pulls me up short, and I paste myself flat against the wall. Of course, the Tranquillity guards the king at all hours. I draw in a breath, slip my knife behind my back, and plaster an arrogant smirk on my face before waltzing into view.

"Elle," one says, recognising me at once. "What are you doing here?"

The pair swap frowns of differing severity, shifting their weight.

"The king asked for me especially," I say, offering a sincere smile.

The first one angles his head, and the other opens his mouth to speak. But before they have the chance, I lunge forward, swinging the butt of my knife into their temple, knocking them out cold. Their limp bodies collapse to the floor. I know I only have moments before they awake. Casting them a wary glance, I reach for the gold-plated doorknobs, pushing them open with only a creak. Darkness grins back at me. There are only pockets of yellow candlelight deeper into the room. I spin the knife, gather my wits, and cross into the obsidian. Tattered, leatherbound books stuff the shelves on either side, rising at least ten feet, creating a wide hallway of books. Musk and liquor cling to my nostrils. My boots crunch over crumbs of broken glass, spiking my pulse. I move deeper, following the pools of candlelight.

A deep laugh dripping with malice startles me so abruptly I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop the squeak. A silhouette claims the shadows as its home. Sitting on a plump, red leather couch. Candlelight flickers onto his face as if he's a ghost slithering through a graveyard, staring at its tombstone.

"Did you come for my head, Elle?" he says in a grating tone that turns my blood to ice.

"Would that not be fair?" I say, grinding my teeth, and twirling the blade. It glints in the orange candlelight and its reflection appears in the king's glass of whiskey.

He chuckles again and my skin crawls. The king sips his whiskey and I notice bubbles of dark of a dark, inky substance stirring around in his drink, not quite mixing, like oil and water.

"Sit." He points to the chair across from him.

The sharp authority in his voice sends me sinking into the seat like a frightened schoolchild. "You should be ashamed of yourself. A coward and a murderer," I spit, feeling the venom creep through my bones in wispy tendrils, burrowing into the marrow like spores of fungus. Powering me.

His lips curl and his snake eyes flash. "I was sorry to hear about your sister, Elle."

"Were you?" I smack the table with my palm. "You literally ensure people are always starving. Want people to remain skeletons. You know it. You know it keeps us too weak to stand up to you."

He chuckles, taking a slow sip of his drink, his eyes though, remaining on me, as if I might try to lunge forward and slash his throat. "Just enough starvation keeps the Convex from gathering the strength to overthrow me."

"Why are you like this?" I say with a shadowy scorn. "If not to simply torment us? You must have a reason for your obsession with control and power."

"An obsession?" He quirks a brow.

"Your grip on control is loosening," I bite back. With a sneer, I snatch the decanter of dark liquor and pour a healthy shot into a tumbler. The liquor burns the back of my throat and tastes of poison. But I revel in the feeling.

He lets out another laugh, shaking his head. He clears his throat. "In my younger and more naïve years, I did believe in the power of rebellion. I know it sounds... naïve or strange coming from me."

I continue sipping the whiskey, narrowing my eyes at him. The candlelight performs exotic dances on his face, making him appear even more sinister.

"When I was a boy, a small, but promising group of rebels from the Convex Sector infiltrated the palace. They so desperately wanted power and control over their lives, as my father had leached it from them during his reign on the throne. But they wanted revenge, you see. For the men lost their wives and children to the famine that chilling winter. Grief held hands with revenge. When they broke into the palace, their targets were any of the royals. Myself included if they got their hands on me. But my mother tried to fight them off, blocking me from them with her body. I watched the leader slice open her throat with his rusty dagger."

The king swallows bodily, eyes glimmering as if the phantom of his mother stands before him. As if he's imagining the knife slicing through her flesh.

"I held her hand as she bled out," he says, his voice catching. "She told me to remember who the real enemy is."

I startle, slamming into the back of the chair.

The king breathes a malicious laugh. "The real enemy, Elle, is human nature. By nature, we are cruel, power-hungry monsters. More dangerous than the Shadowteeth or any other monster beyond the walls. Once we harness power and control, it catalyses our cruel nature. We are all the same. If I am not cruel, they will be cruel to me. So I may as well be selfish."

My heart thumps against my ribs and my skin crawls. I toss the remaining liquor into my mouth, swallowing with effort. "You are a coward. One man cannot hold so much power. It defies the laws of the earth. The laws of balance. It is time to take off that crown, Your Majesty."

I smack the tumbler onto the mahogany table and stand up. Our eyes lock for several beats and for a terrifying moment, something mirrors me. Determination. Loss. I march away, crunching over the broken glass and to the exit. Iwill never bow down to you.The words crackle on my tongue but the icy glaze in his eyes kills any sliverof confidence.

"You had better keep up the game, Elle," the king calls. His bark reverberates off the surrounding walls and I flinch, stomach knotting. "For if you do not convince the kingdom of your love for my son, and your loyalty to the monarchy and my Tranquillity, the blond boy will be next."

Bile and alcohol sting my throat as I whirl around. I ball my fists.

King Talin grunts as he rises to his feet, wobbling. I wonder if he can even see me straight. "Imagine, the girl who dared kill my Tranquillity, loses the last person she holds dear. The loneliest hateful creature."

"At least I have someone in this god-forsaken kingdom I genuinely love. And someone who loves me back. You cannot say the same."

His lips twist into a sneer and crimson stains his teeth. My stomach churns at the sight. He tilts his glass. "I will see you at the Winter ball, Elle."