by Allison West
The storm clouds grew thick, and the sky darkened like night. Leila felt as if the whole world was mourning for what was about to occur—Larkin's death. A flash of lightening illuminated the sky. Leila coaxed the horse to keep going.
Approaching the town, Wynter slowed his horse and climbed down. "Stay here, girl." He tied her to a post and patted her back, waiting for Leila to do the same. Once she had, he walked alongside her into town.
It wasn't hard to find where Larkin would be executed. Most of the citizens stood in the town center, watching as the executioner secured a rope around the post. Leila's skin paled. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. The crowd was noisy, and the sound swallowed her into a small mass. Sweat prickled her forehead, and her vision blurred. Her nerves were getting to her. Leila clenched her hands. She found it impossible to move.
Wynter reached for her and took her hand in his. "It's all you, Leila. You have to do this."
She'd made it her responsibility when the scythe grazed her scroll. It was going to happen soon, just a few feet from where she stood. She stepped away from Wynter and pushed herself into the front row. She watched and waited as trumpets sounded. King Philip and Princess Mara walked out to the platform, standing above the people. She carried a candle with her to the platform.
How was Leila going to kiss Larkin without getting herself into trouble?
King Philip held up his hands to silence the crowd. Princess Mara lit the candle and shielded the flame from the wind. "I am greatly saddened that my daughter, Princess Ophelia Dacre, is not here with us today. Her life was snuffed out like the flame of this candle, too short, too young, too soon." The wind extinguished the small flame. The small evidence of smoke disappeared before the young princess. "Today, we carry out Larkin Alis' sentence of treason and murder. He stole my daughter's life. Let it be known to all of you that if you so much as look at Princess Mara in the wrong way, you will suffer the same fate."
Soft gasps erupted throughout the crowd.
"Bring out the prisoner!" King Philip shouted into the roar of the wind. A cool gust of air followed with the darkened gray sky and drops of rain pelted the ground.
Larkin's hands were tied behind his back. His head was down and his face coated with dried blood and bruises. He looked much worse than when Leila last saw him in the prison cell. The guards walked Larkin in front of the first row of onlookers.
She had to do this; it was her responsibility. Leila bent forward just as he passed, her lips grazing his arm in the softest of kisses, as she pretended to fix her shoe. The single moment, the briefest kiss felt as though it dragged on, like a drug that intoxicated her heart, forcing her body to grow aroused at her dismay. Her breath tangled with the heat of his skin. Leila felt no hint of happiness and yet her body betrayed her from the reap. The warmth spread from her cheeks and across her chest, as a tingling sensation set off strangely between her thighs. Thankfully, no one paid any attention, except Larkin. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Leila. Did he know that the emotion, the heat, the desire she felt was all directed at him? The air may have been chilled from the storm but she felt hot and sweaty as her insides pulsed with the sound of thunder.
"I'm innocent!" he shouted, hoping the king would come to his rescue. "I loved your daughter! I never meant any harm to come upon her!"
As quick as the onset of her orgasm came, her heart raced and she gasped as a crack of lightning and thunder rippled overhead. Wynter seemed to be the only one taking notice of her reaction to the reap. Her previous encounter had been nothing like this. The concern she'd felt and worry had dissipated as she'd reaped the child, but that was the only comfort she'd found. There'd been no pleasure in it. Easily, one could get addicted to such an affliction. She loved Larkin, had that been the catalyst?
Larkin's shout made no difference. The king refused to acknowledge him. Princess Mara turned her back and refused to watch the hanging. It was a small act of defiance.
Leila stood in the front row, watching as Larkin trudged up four stairs onto the wooden platform. She felt a raindrop tap her forehead and slide down her cheek.
"He's innocent!" Leila let her voice be heard among the silent crowd. She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but it wasn't just anyone getting executed, it was Larkin.
King Philip's eyes narrowed and locked on Leila. "Detain her!" he shouted, pointing at the young woman.
Whispers bubbled up, and Wynter grabbed Leila's arm. "It's time to go, now!"
Two guards strode swiftly toward Leila.
Wynter pulled her back through the crowd of onlookers.
"Stop!" Princess Mara shouted to the guards. Silence once again fell on the kingdom. "Princess Ophelia wouldn't want this!"
Taken aback, the guards stopped their pursuit, glancing at King Philip to determine if their orders had changed.
King Philip's top lip snarled. He stared at his only remaining daughter. "Silence! How dare you defy me."
Princess Mara crossed her arms across her chest.
Wynter dragged Leila away from danger. The citizens of Casmerelda gathered closer, watching the scene unfold on the platform before them. Leila and Wynter were momentarily forgotten.
Princess Mara had bought them time, although Leila had no clue as to why.
"We have to go back," Leila said.
Wynter laughed. "Please, tell me you're not serious. We barely escaped with our lives and you want to rush back into danger?" He ran a hand through his hair. "You're crazier than your sister, and I can't believe she just saved our lives."
"She'll pay for it later." Leila knew her father wouldn't forget what Mara had done—embarrassed him in front of his kingdom.
Leila watched as King Philip slapped Princess Mara across the face and resumed the execution as scheduled. She couldn't witness the rest. She hung her head and closed her eyes. A few stray tears mixed with rain trickled down her cheek. Her eyes flashed open but focused on the dirt. The shouts and words of sadness for Princess Ophelia and hatred for Larkin made her sick. She stumbled backward, knocking into Wynter. His warm, strong grip encircled her arms, keeping her close as he steadied her. The comfort that seeped from him into her helped keep the knot in her stomach at bay.
"It's over," Wynter said. Beside her, stood the ghost of Larkin Alis.
"All for a girl." Larkin sighed, glancing back at the podium where his body hung limp.
"Tell me about it." Wynter nodded. "Sorry you had to go through all that. You didn't deserve it."
By the time the execution finished, Leila and Wynter were soaked. It matched Leila's mood, the heavens crying for Larkin. Leila wiped the tears away and cleared her throat. "I think it's time for you to move on." The three of them walked away from the townsfolk and toward the edge of the kingdom, where the horses waited. The rain refused to slow.
"I know you." Larkin studied her face. "You came to see me. Why?" he asked. "No one else came to visit, except Princess Mara."
"I already told you. I knew Ophelia. She would have wanted me to help you." Even after he was dead, Leila was still lying to him. "Why did Mara come to see you?"
"Princess Mara apologized for her father's decision. She knew I didn't hurt Ophelia and pleaded her case with King Philip, but he refused to listen. She wanted me to know that she would fight for me up until the end and even after, because she knew it was what her sister would have wanted."
Leila pushed away the wet strands of hair. "Thank you." It was what she needed to hear. Her sister would become a great leader one day as queen.
"Will I get to see her where I'm going?" Larkin asked. The rain pelted through him, hitting the ground.
Leila exchanged a quick glance with Wynter.
"Where you go, it'll be far better than this place," Wynter said.
A shimmer glistened through the forest that only Larkin and the reapers could see.
"Goodbye," Leila whispered, waving as Larkin walked into the unknown and disappeared. She bit down on her bottom lip, finding it h
ard to keep the tears at bay. It didn't work. They fell harder and faster, until she collapsed onto the ground. She didn't care about the soft, wet grass or the mud edging its way out. She found it difficult to breathe. Gasping for air, pain ripped at her heart. "I hate him. I hate King Philip!" She blamed her father for Larkin's death. Thunder clapped overhead, drowning out her voice.
Wynter bent down to her level and lifted her into his arms. "We have to get you home." She shuddered in his arms. Between the rain and her emotions, she could barely stand.
"I can't… go back." She sobbed between breaths. "They hate me."
"No one hates you," Wynter said.
"Easy for you to say." It wouldn't be easy going back to the dormitory. Violetta and Emblyn were likely to be in an unpleasant mood, given their workload. Hopefully, it had nothing to do with Leila and they would see that and leave her alone.
He untied her horse from the fence and helped Leila climb atop. She was unsteady at best, her mind in a fog. Wynter rode alongside of her in silence, through the rain and back to the dormitory.
Chapter 14
"Leila, open the door!" Wynter pounded on the bedroom door. She'd shut him out. It had been one week since Larkin's death. She had locked herself away from the rest of the reapers, doing only what was necessary, reaping souls, before hiding away in her bedroom.
"Go away."
"No." Wynter wasn't going to let her push him away. He'd given her enough time to grieve, and though she might have desired more, she needed to move on with her new life.
"Let me in or I won't tell you the surprise involving Mara."
A minute later, there were a soft patter of footsteps against the wooden floorboards. A slight squeak from their weight as she walked on a creaky board before pulling open the door, coming face-to-face with Wynter. "What about my sister?" She obviously wasn't in the mood for games. Wynter didn't correct her that Mara wasn't her sister anymore. Not in any technical terms.
He stalked into her bedroom and shut the door, keeping the conversation strictly between them. "The Winter Solstice Ball is coming. Don't tell me you forgot about all the royal parties you used to attend." Making an appearance at the palace would be against the rules, but Wynter would do anything in that moment to take away her pain. Would not seeing her younger sister help ease the suffering she felt in her heart from Larkin's death?
"The pretentious and boring gatherings, yes, I remember them quite well." Leila sighed, not seeming to gain any hint of excitement with the idea of paying her sister a visit. Wynter had expected a hint of life to flow back into Leila at the mention of visiting with Mara.
"When we go, it will be far more entertaining and enjoyable. I know how to have fun at a party. Besides, you can't tell me that you don't miss her. It would give you the opportunity to see her again." Wynter reached for her hand, trying to chip away the ice she had encased around her heart.
"We could get into trouble," she whispered, staring up at him, her wide blue eyes filled with fear.
Wynter laughed. "When has that stopped you from doing what you wanted?" She'd visited Larkin which had been against the rules, she ignored her first reap, and only the royal council knew what else she'd done that Wynter wasn't privy to.
"We're not invited. How would we get in?"
That was her biggest concern, getting into the party? He brushed a red lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure you've seen the guest list before, am I right?"
Her eyes narrowed slowly, likely remembering the names on the list.
"Was there anyone who made a habit of not attending? Perhaps we could slip in under their title." Wynter did not concern himself with getting into the party, especially with Leila as their guide. Surely, she would know her way in and out of the palace without using the main entrance.
Leila nodded slowly, lost in thought. "I had not considered that option."
"It's time you find a way to move on. If bringing you to Mara will encourage you to accept your new life, then we'll break the rules and risk whatever trouble will follow from the royal council."
Leila chewed at the bottom of her lip. "The Winter Solstice Ball is a costume affair. I don't have anything to wear."
Chapter 15
Leila stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. It was still weird to see another person's eyes staring back at her. She would never get used to it. She watched the reflection of Violetta drawing dots of black against her porcelain skin. Emblyn affixed tiny ruby-colored sequins between the dots every so often to embellish the mask.
"I'm sorry if I've been difficult lately." She hadn't said much to Violetta or Emblyn, and now they were being overly kind.
"We've all watched someone we love die," Emblyn said. "We know it's not easy, but don't ever forget that you're one of us, a grim reaper. You're not alone, Leila. Pushing us away doesn't solve anything."
"You're right." The weight of her guilt crushed her chest like an anvil, making it hard to breathe. Knowing she had true friends put her at ease.
"A masterpiece." Violetta stood behind Leila, glancing at her own reflection in the mirror. "I think we look good."
Leila admired their gowns. Leila's lavender dress draped down to the floor. She held the ends to keep it from dragging. Violetta wore a short black lace dress that she'd made months ago. Black silk gloves covered Violetta's arms. She kept her dark hair down and her makeup considerably plain by Violetta's standards.
Emblyn secured Leila's hair up with a clip in the back. "You both look amazing."
"I didn't realize you weren't coming with us tonight. Do you have a reap?" she asked Emblyn.
"I wish I could, but I have plans." She kissed Leila's cheek.
Violetta secured a silver mask that covered her eyes, around her face. The top of the mask was decorated boldly with white feathers. "Tell me I look divine!"
"Heavenly." Wynter pulled Leila to his side. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. "Tell her she looks good, or we'll never leave the house."
Leila smiled kindly. "You look like a princess."
Violetta spun around on her heels. "Are you mocking me?"
She wouldn't dream of making fun of Violetta. On a good day, she could take out a bull in the arena, without a scratch on herself. Leila was terrified to see her on a bad day. "I swear I was being nice."
"Leave her alone." Emblyn nudged Violetta's arm. "You do look like a princess. All three of you look royal. Are you sure you'll be able to get into the palace?"
"We'll be fine." Leila had seen the invitee list a dozen times growing up. She knew everyone who showed and everyone invited who didn't. Wynter had been right, it would not be difficult to slip into the party. "Are we ready?"
"Almost." Wynter walked up to Leila and slid his hand into his pants pocket. He pulled out a necklace. The pendant was round and made from bronze. The center was a pleasant sea of rich purples and blues, mixed together with sparkles that dazzled in the light. Leila turned the charm in her hands, and the colors changed from each angle, revealing a warm mix of pink and orange hues like a gorgeous sunset. "Even though you're no longer a princess, you will always look royal." He took the pendant from her hands and fastened the antique bronze chain around her neck.
"Thank you." A real smile met her lips. She hadn't felt this content since before she died. He had a way of making her feel special. Had he done that with all his students or just her? She hadn't noticed his attention on anyone else.
"One last surprise." Wynter's eyes twinkled. He led the girls to the front door and opened it. Outside, waited a horse-drawn carriage. Jasper sat up front, ready to drive the coach.
"Where'd you get a carriage?" Leila asked.
"It wasn't being used anymore," Jasper said.
Wynter offered his hand to Leila as she climbed into the carriage. He did the same for Violetta before he stepped in last.
"I doubt that. There's nothing wrong with the carriage," Leila mused, staring up at the ceiling. There were no holes, no evidence that it ha
d toppled over and been smashed against the ground.
"It's what was wrong with the owners," Wynter said and sat back in the carriage beside Leila. "They died."
"Oh," Leila said, and the carriage jolted forward. The horses' hooves thumped against grass. "Jasper, did you steal this carriage from a reap?"
"I don't think he can hear you." Wynter grinned. "Yeah, he may have borrowed it. It's not like the guy will be needing it again. Besides, you can't arrive at the ball riding a horse. It would look unsophisticated. Trust me, we'd never get in."
Leila sighed. She hadn't thought about their arrival. "Just tonight. Then we return the carriage." She didn't want to risk the royal council finding out what they were up to. Not only were they crashing a ball, but they were also stealing from the dead. Were there any rules left that Leila hadn't broken?
"Are you nervous?" Wynter nudged her thigh with his leg.
"Why would I be?" Her knee bounced anxiously as her fingers twitched against her lap. She'd been trying to convince herself all afternoon that it was no big deal, Mara wouldn't recognize her.
"No reason at all." Wynter smiled. "We're going out tonight to have fun."
"I can't believe it took you five times to pronounce the right name." Wynter kept his voice low, so that only his nearby friends could hear him. The ballroom was loud. Music and voices echoed off the stone walls.
Violetta laughed. She seemed to be in a pleasant mood. "She had to spell it out for the guy. Otherwise, we'd still be outside."
Leila rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault he was a baboon. I take that back; an animal could have understood better than he did."
"Ouch." Jasper pointed at Leila standing beside him, with his thumb. "I like her."
"Too bad I'm taken." Leila sauntered off down the hall. She looked every bit the part of a princess, even without the crown. She mixed in with the crowd and grabbed a glass of wine from the waiter. Leila grimaced as she sipped the golden liquid. It didn't taste as good as she remembered. Perhaps it had been because she'd snuck off with her sister and stolen two glasses when they were younger. Breaking the rules must have made it taste better.