“Don’t touch her!” he screamed.
“Don’t touch her,” came a taunting voice with a thick Glemarian accent. One I’d heard before. “By the Gods, Rhyan. So many demands.”
Dario emerged from the shadows of the trees, pulling Rhyan forward. The real Rhyan. The Rhyan who still had his scar, who still wore the armor that showed our kashonim, peeking out from his opened cloak. He’d been bound in rope, his neck red as he struggled to break free.
I shook my head. “What is this?”
Staring back at the scarless “Rhyan” before me, he waved the point of the stave up and down his body. The golden-brown curls on top of his head straightened, lengthening into dark auburn locks. His green soturion cloak and black leathers were replaced with the blue robes of a mage. A stranger stood before me, one who possessed a kind of cruel sternness to his beauty. His eyes were dark, his skin pale in the way of most northerners. Looking me up and down, his eyebrows drew together over a large, gryphon-like nose.
Something began to niggle in the back of my mind—a description Rhyan had given me of one of his best friends. One who looked like a gryphon.
“Who … who are you?” I asked.
“I see Rhyan hasn’t told you about me. Who am I, or the special skills I possess with glamour.” He glanced at Rhyan, wind bristling through the dark auburn of his hair, his eyebrows still knitted together. “I think I’m rather insulted.” He returned his gaze to me and bowed, too low, the gesture mocking. “Allow me to introduce myself to you, my lady. That is your correct title now, yes? Lady? Not Your Grace.”
“Yes,” I seethed.
He dipped his chin. “I am an old friend of Rhyan’s. Lord Aiden DeKassas, at your service,” he said. “I am the official apprentice to Glemaria’s Master of Spies. And you are both wanted for questioning. It is my duty to bring you before His Highness, Imperator Hart, High Lord of Glemaria.”
CHAPTER TEN
LYRIANA
Aiden. This was Aiden. I remembered now. Rhyan had wished for a pet gryphon as a boy. He told me he would have named him Aiden. But then he met a real Aiden, and he became one of his best friends, and the desire for the pet was gone. Now, Aiden, the mage, and his friend, had us both bound, while Dario, Rhyan’s other best friend, looked murderously at us.
Rhyan struggled against his ropes, grunting and yelling. “Aiden. Aiden please, listen to me. Don’t do this!” he begged.
Aiden’s mouth tightened, his expression pained, but it was Dario who sneered and said, “Oh I think we will do this.”
“I owe you both an explanation. I know I do. But you have to let us go. You don’t know what’s going on,” Rhyan said, his voice desperate.
“Funny thing that is. We never seem to know,” Dario said. “Come on, Aiden.”
I was already struggling against the rope, trying to break it. Rhyan had done it before, and I had my soturion strength now. I was stronger than I’d ever been. But as my muscles strained, and I pushed against my bonds, using everything I had, the ropes only cut into me more sharply. It was impossible. Aiden had tightened the ropes around me with a vise-likegrip. And he was keeping his focus trained on them, not letting them loosen an inch no matter how hard I fought.
I’d been bound before, but never like this, never with my power intact. And all at once, I understood how truly torturous it was. When Tristan bound me on Imperator Kormac’s orders, it had hurt. The ropes were too hot against my skin, but mostly I’d been terrified of what was happening. The situation itself had been far more horrifying than any pain I’d felt from the binding.
This time, though, was so much worse. I was in agony. But Rhyan? Gods! Rhyan had gone months like this because of his father’s cruelty. He’d gone months like this just to protect me.
“At least, release him!” I shouted. I couldn’t stand to see him in the ropes now that I could fully understand what they did to him, understand how they’d been used against him. They were his own personal kind of torture. “Take me instead. I won’t fight back, I swear.”
“No,” Rhyan growled. “No! Your quarrels are with me. Deal with me. I have a lot to answer for. To both of you. And I will answer. I swear it. It’s me you want. Me who my father wants. Not her.”
Dario laughed. “Our quarrels? That’s how you’re referring to what’s between us now.Quarrels?What a fucking polite choice of words. But then again, what else should I expect from the smooth tongue of our old Heir Apparent?” He shook his head. “But you’re right on one thing,friend.”Dario’s accent deepened, the lilt that I found so beautiful sharpening into a vicious threat lacing each syllable.“You do have a lot to answer for. A fucking lot. And trust me. We will be getting every one of those answers from you in kind.”
“Dario!” I yelled. “I beg you. You were his friend. Don’t do this to him.”
“Lyr,” Rhyan said, a warning in his voice. But I could see how much this hurt him, the pain and panic in his eyes.
“Was,I believe is the important word, my lady.” Dario scrunched his nose. “Past tense.”
Rhyan squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorted with pain.
I gave up on reasoning with Dario. “Aiden,” I pleaded. He seemed more reserved, possibly more level headed. “Please.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot abide by your request.” Aiden spoke formally, his accent barely there. His lilt was stifled in the way Rhyan often hid his, except for the moments he lost control of his emotions. There was a stillness to him—one I’d sensed when he’d touched me before.
“You see,” Aiden continued, “Rhyan has a small tendency to sneak away. And kill the people you love on his way out.” His voice hardened. “We will not be releasing you either, my lady. Maybe you misunderstood me. I’ll explain again. And slowly. You will both be brought in for an audience with His Highness, Imperator Hart.”
