He slits his eyes at me, studying my face to detect any lie. I mentally utter a prayer to the goddess when Rune begins to speak.
“Your Highness, when the explosives began lighting, Kassiel went to ensure that the rebel commander would still face her execution, as you’d commanded. Rion, we believe, was trying to free her and got in the way of Kassiel getting her in time. Orlin merely was caught up in the fight, before running off to gods knows where. The last moment I had seen Kassiel was when anexplosion sent him flying, and I, concerned for your safety, ran to your aid.”
Smooth deliverance, Rune.
He’s always been the most trusted of Euron, has been for years, and Rune had accepted his position. Until things changed. Rune found something he cared about almost as much as I cared for Alora. His reason for staying close to Euron was that of a desire to be closer to the witch in the tower.
He’d willingly do whatever was needed to keep in proximity to her.
Knowing he is also sacrificing himself if we are discovered is a great display of trust in me.
Euron looks back at me, and then again to Rune.
“If you say it is so, then I trust it’s the truth.”
Orlin looks up from his yielding pose, not enough for King Euron to notice him, but locks eyes with me. His blue orbs smolder with burning fury.
I match his stare, wondering if he’ll dare speak out against what we both know to be inconsistencies with what happened in Astoria.
“But even so,” the king turns back to me, “you took your time in heeding my call, boy. For your disobedience, you’ll also need to atone.”
I begin to unbutton my shirt, knowing where this is going, as King Euron turns to grab something from behind him. He prefers to mar my skin with different methods than the cane. I look to where the braided leather switch lies in the corner of the room.
Though my skin eventually heals, and I’m thankful that this is the form of punishment rather than the time he put weights on my genitals, my skin still smarts with the thought of being flogged.
But I’ll endure it, I’ll accept these final chastisements if it means I’ll be with Alora.
The king spins, smiling, and his hands carrying an ivory square of parchment.
Surprise raises my eyebrows slightly.
“You will go find these deceivers. You will bring them to me. And youwillsever their souls at tonight’s festivities to remind these rebel traitors what happens when you disobey my will.”
He hands me the note that appears to be scrawled with messy handwriting depicting where members of The Hidden are believed to be.
I grasp the note and clench it in my fist and nod.
Smugness rolls off the king’s expression, the glint in his eye unmistakable. He knows how much this kills me.
I make quick work of doing my buttons up and bow before turning to leave.
My body feels like it’s floating along as I make my way out the door, fear biting at my heels hanging on with their needling teeth.
I spin the brass knob, and wrench the large door open and swiftly escape.
Samek waits outside and grabs hold of the door. Before entering, he studies me and his lips flatten. With one more glance, he pushes inside the door and pulls it closed.
The hallways are too enclosed, too much garishness garnered around the corridors. It’s choking.
I rush down the marble steps, not caring if I fall and crack my skull in the process.
Once I’m through the kitchens and safely outside where prying eyes won’t find me, I pull the list of names that are crumpled in a ball from my fist.
Sharp, frozen darts stab into me when I read the names, my veins filling with a heavy reluctance that threatens to weigh me down.
Merinda
Zedriel
