Free Dead Girl Walking by Ruth Silver Page B

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 backwards, knocking into Wynter.
    “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. She had a petite nose and full pale lips. Even soaked, she was familiar to him. “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 hard 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 cottage. 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 cottage.

The Ball
    Chapter 6
    Since Larkin's death, Leila had kept to herself. She barely spoke two words to Violetta and Emblyn. She knew they blamed her for the Great Plague and the massive amount of reaps they'd endured. She could hear them talk through the walls about the ravaging disease.