The Way We Fall

Chapter 177 (Tigris)

TW: Descriptions of illness, mildly coarse language

"Roche is awake. And lucid this time."

Tigris stiffened before she could stop herself, shoving down the instinctual flare of concern that rose within her.

"Ah," she managed to say after a beat, turning her gaze back to the papers shuffled across her desk. "I suppose that's good." The words were stilted and awkward. Kai groaned loudly, crossing the distance across the room to stand a careful distance behind her.

"Tigris, it's been days. You should go see her," Kai pleaded.

Tigris dropped her papers and her quill with more force than necessary, feeling the reverberation rattle up her arm as she braced on the edge of the table.

"You saw," Tigris said quietly when Kai fell silent, "What she did."

Even Kai couldn't argue. Tigris didn't think she'd be able to forget the moment she'd seen the carnage.

The Council had been mauled. There was no better way of putting it. Their blades were strewn around them, foul inkblood puddling on the ground around their bodies.

The two Councilmen had died with their eyes open and bulging, wide with primal terror. Their necks were strangely sunken, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths and eyes. Some of their fingertips were stained black with ink, and so dry that they crumbled to dust when touched. Leinos had solemnly informed the gathered crowd that their necks had been caved in, promising a slow, painful end brought by a lack of oxygen.

That wasn't the worst part.

The worst of them all was Eris. Tigris' aunt had been shown the least mercy. Her throat was slit, a cruel parody of the way the king had died, a fact that made Tigris' stomach clench. Her chest was concave, broken by some kind of impact. Blood leaked from places where rib bones had pierced their way out of the mottled skin.

Tigris had no lost love for the Council, but there was no honour in this kind of death. Their deaths were slow and drawn, made to hurt.

She'd instructed Roche to distract the Councillors. To keep them busy. To apprehend them, if possible.

Instead, Roche had gruesomely obliterated them and left their mangled corpses lying in the hall. It was one thing to be told that the woman could kill. But Tigris had imagined the fights to be as honourable as any other. Respectful handling of the enemy. It was what she taught all of her knights. That was what it meant to be a knight, to show honour and kindness in the face of death, even if that meant showing your worst enemies the respect they were owed.

But Roche had killed Eris and proceeded to slash her body like a terrible art project. There wasn't any honour in that.

Now, Kai stood behind Tigris' study, his hands planted on his hips.

"I'm sure she'll explain herself if you simply ask," he insisted firmly, "But if you keep avoiding her-"

"I already visited her," Tigris said curtly, "She didn't regret it at all."

No, Roche hadn't shown any remorse. Instead, she'd stared up at Tigris with the audacity to look confused.

"They hurt you. And they'd do it again," Roche had managed to say before being dragged back into unconsciousness. The words had made Tigris feel ill.

Kai's jaw tightened. "That doesn't count," he argued, "She wasn't in her right mind, Tigris. Give her a chance."

"I gave her a chance," Tigris said coldly, ignoring the roiling sea of emotions in her chest, "She blatantly disregarded my orders. She claims she'll serve me in one breath and then ignores my commands in another. This was the damage she was willing to let me see. What do you think she's done behind my back?"