After the leopard shifter had arrested him and Blukke yesterday afternoon in the middle of their effort to find a clue in that chest of parchment, then threatened Marnie to ensure neither men used their gifts on him, Dante found it a bit difficult to feel sad when he saw Roan’s dead body.

But seeing Prim wrapped around him, covered in blood from head to toe and making those horrible noises…it was enough to wish the man was alive and well. Dante would gladly endure Roan’s torture if it meant saving Prim from that anguish—though the shifter hadn’t tortured him. He’d even given him and Blukke food and water in their cells last night.

Prim didn’t stop kicking and screaming as Dante carried her out of the barracks and back toward the castle, every person they passed gawking at them. He wanted to scream at them to give her some privacy, but he knew she was too far gone to notice or even care, and yelling at them would only call more attention.

He finally set her down when they reached the inner courtyard, and she curled up into a ball right there on the grass next to the path. Dante murmured consoling words to her, stroking her back, but she made no indication that she heard or felt him. He sensed Prim’s escorts nearby, hearing Sarasha instructing his replacement to give them some space.

After several minutes, Prim sat up, shaking. She still didn’t look at him, but at her hands. Then her dress. She slowly brought her hands to her face, placing investigating touches on her cheeks and hair. Her trembling intensified as she realized the blood was everywhere.

“It’s okay, Bear. We’ll get you cleaned up.” Dante reached for her, but she still didn’t look at him.

Prim shot up, taking purposeful steps toward the garden. She pulled her dress over her head as she walked, tossing it on the ground; Dante wasn’t quite sure why she bothered as her chemise was just as blood-soaked. Once the dress was gone, she broke into a run.

Dante collected the dress and followed as Prim wove through the white gravel paths of the gardens--leaving red stains--until she came to the mermaid fountain in the middle. She didn’t slow her pace as she braced a hand on the stone edge and leaped over and into the water.

Dante slowed to a walk, hesitantly approaching and taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, watching Prim submerge herself over and over, scrubbing at her skin and hair as the water turned pink. She pulled off her boots and threw them into some flowers, then undid the braids he’d put in yesterday morning--it felt like a lifetime ago—to scrub the blood from her strands.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. So he said nothing, did nothing. Just sat there, watching her, dipping his hands in the water to clean the blood off his own skin. Even when she’d stopped scrubbing and spread out in the large fountain, floating, staring at the sky.

After a while, nothing didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

“Let me take you to Kallia. You can have a proper bath in that nice tub of hers, yeah?”

Prim sat up slowly, her chemise and hair swirling around in the water. She met his gaze with puffy, red eyes. “What did they do to you?”

They. As if it was some unknown entity that had taken him and Blukke and not the man she was currently grieving.

“Let me take you to your friends, Bear.”

Her chest heaved. Shit, that was the wrong thing to say.

“Let me take you to Kallia.”

She waded to him on her knees, keeping most of her body under water, placing a hand on his. “It’s my fault.”

Dante dropped the bloody blue dress on the ground, freeing up his other hand to wrap around her neck. He knew it couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t have done anything to endanger her friend’s life.

“What happened, Bear?” he asked softly so she could get it off her chest and he could assure her she was blameless for Roan’s death. No doubt there would be an investigation and the murderer would be caught, but for now, Dante’s word would have to do to quell her guilt. He wished he could have smelled a hint of the murderer, but with all the guards lined in the hall and the overpowering scent of Roan’s blood, he couldn’t single it out without already knowing what scent to sniff for.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Prim squeezed his hand. “He got his gifts back and smelled you in my room. Smelled what we’d done. And then I let him think we were getting married.” She held her left hand up, showing him the ring on her marriage finger, as if he could have forgotten. “I thought it would help him realize you are it and he’d get over me. Instead, it just made him target you. I’m so sorry.”

Dante’s heart ached. Despite her grief for the shifter, the guilt she felt was for him.

He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “No, Bear. You have nothing to be sorry about. Those were his choices, not yours. And it wasn’t that bad, anyway. He didn’t use his gift on us.”

Shifting gravel pulled Dante’s attention away to find Blukke padding toward them.

“Let me take you to Kallia, Bear.”

This time, Prim nodded. She stood, the thin white--now light pink--chemise clinging to her body to reveal every curve.

Dante looked down to see his own shirt covered in blood. He looked at Blukke. “Shirt, please.”

Dante removed his bloodied shirt and added it to Prim’s sullied dress on the ground.

The bowerbird shifter quickly removed his shirt and tossed it at Dante, averting his eyes—though Dante had already noticed his friend looking when Prim first stood up. The shirt had dirt and stink from the dungeons on it, but at least it didn’t have Roan’s blood.

Dante wrapped it around her then picked her up as Blukke collected the discarded clothing and boots and left.

When Dante carried Prim into Kallia’s chambers, the princess and other handmaiden gasped from their lounging positions on the chaises, the news not yet having reached them.

“She needs a bath,” Dante said, walking purposefully into the bathing chambers without stopping.

Kallia and Bristol rushed in right after, and Dante shook his head at their open mouths ready to demand answers. He just stood there, holding Prim, who had her arms wrapped around his neck and didn’t offer any explanation herself. She didn’t say anything at all. Her eyes were closed as if the weight on her was too heavy to keep them open.

A few minutes later, servants were bringing in water, and the tub was full in no time. Dante sat Prim down and removed Blukke’s shirt, leaving the chemise on, unsure how she felt about exposing herself in front of her friends. Apparently, she didn’t care at all. Prim pulled the underdress over her head without hesitation and climbed into the tub.

Dante dropped onto a bench near the door, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. He was trying to determine if he should go ahead and tell the women about Roan or let Prim collect herself first. He looked up to see they were both standing at the edge of the tub, looking at her.

Prim reached both hands out to grasp each of her friends. “Roan’s dead.”

Bristol withdrew her hand, but Kallia squeezed tighter.

“What do you mean?” Bristol gasped.

What the fuck did she think Prim meant? Dante straightened, readying himself to tell them to get out and leave Prim alone--best friends or not--if they were going to make this harder on her.

Prim closed her eyes. “I went to get him for Queen Mallis. I went to yell at him. To threaten him. To hurt him.” Her voice broke and her body once again shook with tears. Kallia dropped down to wrap an arm around her, soaking her dress in the process. “I found him dead. Murdered. Someone slit his throat. And stabbed him in the heart. And left him to die alone.” The shaking and tears began anew. Prim turned to Kallia, looking at her with pleading eyes as if she could do something about it. “He’s gone.”

Bristol dropped onto a chair, her hands over her mouth, her eyes staring off unfocused.

Kallia remained at Prim’s side stroking her hair and shaking her head, silent tears sliding down her face.

Dante shouldn’t be here for this. He stood up to leave, but the princess called to him. “No. I need some answers from you.”

Kallia kissed Prim’s forehead, then made her way to Dante, wiping away her own tears.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t have you thrown back into the dungeons right now. My mother seemed pretty convinced you were one of Somanti’s minions and had taken the job to kill me.”

Dante looked at Prim, knowing she had done something to get Kallia to release him and Blukke, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say. What lie she had told. But Prim didn’t look at him.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me. I want the truth.”

Dante returned his attention to Kallia, but allowed himself one more quick glance back to Prim for just a moment to see she was still staring off in space. Surely if he wasn’t supposed to tell the truth, she would give him some kind of warning.

“I was one of Sol’s minions. And I did take the job. But it wasn’t to kill you, it was to deliver you to Kensut. I thought Prim was you and I took her in error. We didn’t go to look for a conspirator. We went to actually do the job. Well, I did. She went along with it to find answers.”

The bath water splashed and Dante looked over to find Prim had turned to look at them, throwing an elbow out of the tub to prop her up, her eyes wide with disbelief at his confession.

Shit.