Chapter 2: The Dying Queen<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pressed his face to the back of my hand, his voice a hoarse whisper. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m so sorry, Jane. I shouldn\u2019t have said that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wanted to tell him it was okay. That I didn\u2019t blame him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A frantic voice from outside cut me off. \u201cYour Highness! The Princess is coughing up blood!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He dropped my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He moved so fast the gust of wind he left behind was cold on my skin. My hand, which had just started to warm up, was ice again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fumbled my way to the window. I couldn\u2019t see, but I could feel the world shift and change through the play of light and shadow on my skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We didn\u2019t always live in the palace. The palace, in the south of the city, was hers. We lived in the north.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When she first got sick, a servant came knocking. William refused to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJane needs me,\u201d he\u2019d said. \u201cIf I take her back to the palace, she\u2019ll be miserable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I heard the servant sniffle, a small sound of pity for her mistress. She left, but a seed of doubt had been planted in William\u2019s mind. He started spacing out, staring at nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The servant came back again. This time, her words were sharper. \u201cThe Princess doesn\u2019t have much time. Does she not even deserve to know the face of the man she married before she dies?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That night, William sat with me in silence for hours. As dusk settled, he took my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJane, let\u2019s just go see her. One look.\u201d His voice was low. \u201cI promise, you won\u2019t be hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded. What else could I do?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But when he saw Elara, everything changed. He described her to me as a woman already fading, a ghost in her own life. His voice was laced with a pity he didn\u2019t even realize was there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOne look\u201d became a daily visit. Then, any time she had a bad spell, he would rush to her side. He\u2019d stay from dawn until dusk. He\u2019d come back smelling of herbs and sometimes, faintly, of blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He thought I didn\u2019t know. My eyes were blind, but my heart wasn\u2019t. He was seeing her more now than he had in the seven years of their marriage combined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He started talking about her. Her talent. Her sadness. Her pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I saw it coming. I just didn\u2019t want to believe it. He knew what the third dance could do to me. He knew it could kill me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he asked anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And just like that, the dread that had been building inside me for weeks finally crashed down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I turned my face to the wind, remembering what he\u2019d muttered yesterday as he held my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe\u2019s a tragic figure, Jane. Trapped in this marriage for seven years, ignored by me\u2026 but she\u2019s been completely devoted. I can\u2019t just let her die\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I said nothing. Right. The Princess was the victim. A royal decree had torn her from her home and forced her into a loveless marriage with a man who already had a lover.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n