Another guard joined Sarasha when Prim was in the armory, saying Roan had been called away to attend to some business as kern. Prim hoped Dante would be in her room when she returned to clean up after training, but he wasn’t. She hoped he’d be there when she returned to freshen up before dinner, but he wasn’t. She hoped he’d be there when she returned from dinner, bringing back some food wrapped in napkins just in case he hadn’t had a chance to eat, but he wasn’t. Nor did he come before Prim went to sleep. Nor was he there when she woke up in the morning.

Prim peeked out her door to see Sarasha and the other guard from yesterday. She looked down the hall to see Tuck and Bristol’s other guard from yesterday outside the other handmaiden’s room. Prim looked questioningly at Sarasha, but the fae just shrugged, confused.

Prim hurriedly got dressed, rushing up to Kallia’s rooms with a sick feeling in her stomach. She burst into the entertaining suite to find Queen Mallis sitting with Kallia on a chaise, holding her daughter’s hand with a pleasant smile on her face. Both women turned to Prim at her abrupt entrance, and Prim dropped to a low curtsy as her two escorts planted themselves on the wall.

“Apologies for the interruption. I can come back later.”

Mallis patted Kallia’s hand. “No need, Primrose. I was just sharing a bit of good news.”

Kallia slowly dragged her eyes to Prim. Her face certainly did not look as cheery as the queen’s did. “Some conspirators in the plot against me have been apprehended.”

Prim released a breath. Thank Solin. Dante and Blukke’s search yesterday had been successful and they must have been too preoccupied with that to be on escort duty again today. Prim was certainly going to have a word with Dante about not coming by her room to at least tell her he wouldn’t be around, or leave her a note, or something. “That’s wonderful.”

Kallia’s face was pale as she stared at Prim with hollow eyes. Prim’s brows bunched in an unspoken question.

But Kallia didn’t say anything. Queen Mallis continued. “I do apologize for the danger. Kern Hollon has taken full responsibility and is already working on ensuring this never happens again. Though I suppose he should be forgiven, considering he’s also the one to discover their plot.”

Prim blinked. “What did Roan do?” It would have been Dante and Blukke’s efforts that discovered the conspirators, not his. Though with the way he’d been acting lately, she wouldn’t be too surprised if he’d taken the credit for himself just to be a dick to Dante.

Mallis tilted her head. “He uncovered those guards were actually assassins from the Cavs. How they came to be the personal escorts of the handmaidens is beyond me. It makes me sick thinking of the access they had to you.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand again.

Prim’s chest tightened as the world opened up and swallowed her alive. She stared at the queen with her soft smile and Kallia with her unsure frown. This couldn’t be happening. They’d kill him. Oh gods, they might have already killed him.

And Roan…Roan did it.

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“No,” Prim breathed. She locked eyes with Kallia. “No,” she said stronger.

Kallia looked at her with sad, pitying eyes. The same fucking look Helena had given her. Prim wasn’t going to lose this battle.

Prim straightened. “Kern Hollon is mistaken. Kallia assigned Dante and Blukke to Bristol and me herself. Kallia has been working with them for years. They have been her spies, keeping an eye on the Cavs. The man I told you about--Con? That is Dante. Con was his code name.”

Kallia only allowed herself a moment of confusion. Her face had turned neutral by the time Queen Mallis turned to her. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” the princess said without hesitation. “I was just about to explain that before Prim came in.”

Queen Mallis pursed her lips. “Honestly, Kallia, you must keep us abreast on your doings.” The queen spoke as if Kallia had simply forgotten to blow out a candle, not endanger the lives of two loyal men—though Prim was pleased the princess wasn’t getting scolded as she’d done nothing at all wrong.

The queen stood. “I will have them released immediately and have a word with Kern Hollon.”

“I will fetch him for you personally, Your Highness.” Prim curtsied again and rushed out before the queen could object. She would fetch him alright. And pound his face in while she was at it, threatening to throw him into the void if he didn’t corroborate the new story.

Prim ran to the barracks, Sarasha and the other escort on her heels, and pounded on Roan’s door, calling his name. He didn’t answer, and she began questioning everyone in sight. Nobody had seen him that morning; as far as they knew, he was still in his room.

She returned to his room, the fucking jealous, petty coward hiding in there to avoid facing the consequences of his actions. She’d kill him. With rage dulling her logic, Prim dispelled the whole damn door right in front of her escorts.

Then her rage turned into confusion. Then disbelief.

Prim surged into the room. She dropped to her knees, the cold liquid covering the stones instantly seeping through her skirts to chill her shins.

Roan lay on the floor in his uniform, his sword still attached to his back as if he hadn’t even attempted to fight his assailant. His face was pale against his disheveled red hair, his feline eyes wide open, staring unseeing, his lips parted to reveal those elongated canines that had once dragged along Prim's skin in pleasure.

A dagger protruded from his heart, though there was also a deep slice across his neck.

“No.” Prim gripped his face. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

It didn’t matter how many times she said it. If the temperature of the blood was any indication, Roan had been dead a long while.

Prim rocked back and forth as the tears came, the blood on the floor covering more and more of her dress with her movement. This could not be happening. She wanted to pummel him, to yell at him, but she didn’t want him dead. She would never want that. He was her friend. A friend who made a stupid mistake out of desperation and love for her. Everyone makes mistakes. They would have worked through it eventually. He would have learned his lesson. He would have gotten to know Dante and accepted him. He would have fallen out of love with her, and they would have gone back to being best friends.

But now none of that would happen.

Through the tears and the shuddering breaths, Prim wailed. She screamed until her voice gave out.

Then she heard voices. Some whispering, some talking, some yelling. She felt delicate hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them away and fell onto Roan’s body, avoiding the dagger. She didn’t avoid the blood, though, which now covered her arm and chest and face to match her skirts.

She continued weeping loudly, her body shaking as she gripped her friend’s corpse. In this pit of despair, it could have been one minute or one hour before another set of hands were on her, these large and strong. They didn’t go for her shoulders, either, but pushed themselves between her body and Roan’s to wrap around her waist and under her arms, picking her up fully. She screamed in protest, kicking her legs, but they didn’t release her.

Through the fog of her pain speared a familiar voice, soft and gentle with sorrow.

“I’ve got you, Bear.”