Panic tore across David’s face. “I don’t know that many—we don’t exchange names. It’s safer that way.”
“Well, perhaps your son can inherit your hands as well, then. Give me as many names as you can, and we’ll see how many fingers the boy gets to keep.”
David shook in his chains. “Please, no. He’s a child—you can’t do this!”
“You’re a traitor to the crown,” the Keeper said. “That means I can do anything I have to. I’m protecting the monarchy from a rebel who seeks to tear them down.”
“No,” David said, his eyes darkening. “Not all of them. Only the ones who would do these atrocities. Long live Princess Serene!”
The cry surprised Vera, since the rebels had sought to kill Serene more than once. Clare’s own brother had been a part of such a plot.
But the Keeper did not seem surprised. He released Vera and strode toward David, his face suddenly too smooth. “So,” he murmured. “Prince Grandeur was correct. The princess does indeed seek to overthrow him.”
David glared. “I don’t know the princess’s mind. All I know is that more men and women than you could possibly know are fighting for her birthright to take the crown.”
“Does the princess lead you?” the Keeper demanded, and Vera could hardly fathom the question.
Serene, leading rebels? That was an insane thought.
David glared at the Keeper. “She doesn’t have to lead us. We fight for her anyway.”
The Keeper took a step back, then he glanced toward the guard who held Finn. “Take off a finger.”
“No!” David burst out.
Finn screamed and Vera bent, tugging the knife from the sheath against her calf. She knew she wouldn’t win this fight, but she was incapable of doing nothing.
Finn’s hand was slammed onto a nearby table, and the guard lifted his blade at the same moment Vera leapt for him, one arm bracing the baby as she plunged the knife into the guard’s exposed side.
The guard screamed and jerked back, unfortunately taking her knife with him.
The Keeper stared at Vera, shock blasting his face.
Vera shoved Finn toward the door. “Run!”
He did, but not toward the door. He darted for Sarah, who was crying where Vera had left her.
Vera grabbed the knife the guard had dropped to the table, but before she could turn it on the Keeper, the other guard had snagged her from behind. He pinned her arms in a punishing grip.
Rebecca wailed inside the sling, and Vera’s heart pounded violently as the Keeper stepped up to her, fury in his eyes as he plucked the knife from her hand. “You will regret that, my dear.” He glanced over to the other guard. “Secure the children to the chairs in the corner.”
“You’re a monster!” Vera fought against the man who held her, but his hold was unbreakable. “There’s no way Prince Grandeur condoned this!”
“Oh, but he did,” the Keeper said. “He understands the necessity of cruelty in the face of protecting the greater good.” He lifted his chin and looked over her shoulder. “I need more guards in here. And bring some gags. I don’t want to hear the children crying just yet.”
Vera was dragged to the opposite corner of the room and shoved into the chair. The guard held her there until a new guard stepped into the room. He carried some coiled rope, and he stepped toward her.
It took Vera a terrified couple of heartbeats to see his gray hair. Recognition flared.
Zander.
The nobleman gave her the slightest wink before he went behind her. When the rope was slipped over her wrists, it was done so loosely.
Her pulse quickened. If Zander was here, then . . .
Sarah was crying loudly, and the Keeper glared at her. “Where are those gags?”
A new man stepped into the room, his long dark hair coiled into a bun at the back of his head. He walked right up to the Keeper, who turned to him with annoyance. “What are you doing? Gag them.” Then he noticed the sharp glare in the guard’s eyes, and the fact that those dark hands held nothing.
