“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I recoiled, pressing my back against the cool stone wall. The sight of him, younger and unmarred by time, was a riddle wrapped in an enigma.
“You—you were imprisoned,” I stammered, my voice betraying the terror that clawed at my insides. “How did you escape?”
His brow furrowed deeply. “Imprisoned? My lady, what are you talking about? You must have hit your head harder than we thought. You should still be resting.”
My pulse thrummed in my ears, a frantic beat screaming danger.
“No,” I protested, the taste of fear sharp and bitter on my tongue. “I’m not imagining this. You were in prison after—after you tried to kill me.” My voice broke, and panic spilled out in a torrent. “You’re here to take my baby girl. You’re going to hurt her!”
Balthazar’s expression shifted the confusion on his face, deepening into something more profound, almost troubled. “What are you talking about? There’s no baby, my lady. You managed to escape Mathias, but you were riding so fast your horse lost control and threw you to the ground.”
“Mathias?” I whispered, the name spinning through my mind like a splintered echo. “What are you talking about?” My voice sounded small, fragile, and lost amid the overwhelming grandeur of the unfamiliar castle.
“Mathias attacked you,” Balthazar explained, his tone slow and deliberate as if speaking to a frightened child. “But you don’t need to worry. I’ve imprisoned him. It seems he was betraying us all along. Now Salvatore has emerged from the shadows, hungering for destruction.” His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped. “He wants to destroy you.”
“None of this makes any sense,” I said, shaking my head.
“I can take you to see Mathias if you don’t trust me.” As if to prove his peaceful intent, Balthazar reached for his belt and stripped away his sword and dagger. They clattered to the floor, echoing hollowly through the vast corridor.
“Salvatore,” I murmured, the name stirring a distant echo of dread deep within me. My thoughts swirled with fragments—faces, names, memories—all just out of reach, like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands. It was a futile struggle, and the harder I tried to piece them together, the more fragmented they became. Everything felt wrong, twisted, and unfamiliar.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I repeated, stepping away from the disarmed figure. “Balthazar, stop toying with me. Stop these games. You are a dangerous, psychotic, and insane monster who tried to kill me. You took my unborn baby away from me and brought nothing but pain and misery into my life!”
Balthazar’s expression contorted into genuine bafflement, his brows knitting together as if I had spoken in a language he didn’t understand. “My lady, I would never hurt you.I would die for you.I am your faithful and loyal protector. I would never harm you. I don’t know what baby you’re talking about. You and your husband just wed a few months back.”
His words hit me like a slap, the implication unraveling everything I thought I knew. The reality I clung to seemed to slip further out of reach, leaving only a hollow void. My breathing quickened as fear threatened to consume me.
“Take me to my husband,” I said, my fear sharpening into resolve. I needed answers, and only Roman could provide them—Roman was always the lighthouse in my stormy sea of doubts.
“First, I want to show you where Mathias is,” Balthazar said. “So you believe me.”
His tone held a note of urgency that tugged at my trepidation, igniting the embers of dread that had settled in my chest.
Reluctantly, I followed him, each step heavy with foreboding. We went deeper into the castle’s bowels, the air growing colder with every turn of the spiraling stone staircase. The echoes of our footsteps reverberated around us, mingling with the faint, rhythmic drip of water somewhere in the distance. My grip tightened on the banister, the chill of the iron biting into my skin.
The dungeon loomed before us, its entrance a gaping maw. It reminded me of the Hypogeum, its eerie aura steeped in history and death. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering weakly against the oppressive darkness. The elongated shadows danced in a macabre waltz, painting the stone walls with the shapes of nightmares.
We came upon a cell, and there he was—Mathias shackled and barely a shadow of the man I once knew. His youthful face, unmarred by time, was a jarring contradiction to the grim surroundings of the dungeon. He looked like a ghost, his spirit fractured as the chains that bound him.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my voice trembling under the weight of confusion. “Are you both playing some kind of twisted game?” Fear clawed at my chest, and I felt reality slipping through my fingers, unraveling far too quickly for me to catch.
Mathias lifted his head, his desperate eyes meeting mine. In the hollows of his gaze, I saw a man on the edge of madness—a predator caged but still dangerous.
“Well, well, well,” he began, his voice rasping with a dry, mocking chuckle. “Look who’s come to visit me... none other than Balthazar and the woman I was supposed to kill.”
His words struck me like a blow, but his tone unnerved me. Usually composed and commanding, Mathias’ voice cracked with something raw, almost unhinged. He let out another low chuckle, his eyes glinting with malice.
“You’re a fool, Balthazar,” he sneered, the chains rattling as he leaned forward. “Fighting for the wrong side. You and I—together, we could’ve been unstoppable—a formidable team.”
Balthazar clenched his jaw, his fists clenched at his sides. His gaze never wavered from Mathias, his presence as steady and unyielding as a mountain.
“I would rather die with honor than fight alongside a traitor like you,” Balthazar said, his voice steady and resolute. “I will always be loyal to Isabelle.”
Isabelle.The name hit me like a cold gust of wind.I used to be Isabelle.
Mathias shook his head, his frustration rattling the chains that bound him. “One day, you’ll regret this, Balthazar,” he said, his voice tinged with venom. “And when you do, it will be too late.”
