Guilt nibbled at his conscience. He knew he’d hurt her. But what choice did she leave him? It was too great a risk. To this court. To this kingdom. And to her. He was running out of lives to take…and above all, if he took hers…there would be no coming back from it. He would never forgive himself. So why did knowing that he’d broken her heart bother him so much?
You’re a hypocrite.
Yes, he was. He couldn’t tell her what he was. What he thought she might’ve been able to save him from. She’d blame herself. And she’d try to stay out of defiance or guilt. And that was far too dangerous. For both of them.
He forced thoughts of her from his mind, redirecting his focus to preparations for tomorrow. And for tonight. He’d make sure there were guards outside Caramyn’s room to keep her safe. He’d ensure he slept chained tonight, though there were times even that hadn’t been enough.
He breathed out his relief at the sight of the castle as the grounds came back into view. As they passed through the stone walls, Terrin awaited them to take the horses back to the stables. He was grateful he wouldn’t have to deal with the horses for now. He just needed to get away from the Shadowblood girl.
Caramyn slid from her horse with a lifeless slump. Her expression could only be described as some sort of hopelessness Asterious had not seen on her before. Was she truly so shatteredby this? Was it all another act? Trying to unravel her only created more questions than answers.
“I’ll escort you back to your chambers,” He spoke low, exhaustion wrung out in each word. He knew he should just walk away. But he wanted to make sure she was secured as far as possible from him for the night. And…perhaps some part of him also wanted one last moment alone with her, though he knew it was absurd for him to even consider it. It was more than absurd. It was absolutely reckless.
“Nice to know I’m your prisoner again for the remainder of my stay.” Caramyn’s violet eyes flashed like lightning as she spoke, but her voice was weak, almost timid.
“You are not my prisoner. But yes, there will be guards. Not to keep you from leaving. But to keep you safe.”
“From what exactly?” she mumbled in a hoarse whisper.
“From me.”
Caramyn’s icy silence cut through him, bringing more uncertainty creeping into his mind. But he had to see this through, no matter how much it hurt her. It was the only way. The only way to protect her. Just like when the bandits attacked and he ran with her. She didn’t understand it then. And she wouldn’t understand now. It was just the way it had to be.
The trek to the top of the tower felt like an eternity. His boots echoed with each step up the stairwell. Caramyn hardly looked at him as she stepped into the room, and he was almost certain he caught a glimpse of fear in those eyes. Or hatred.
“Pack your things. Whatever you want to keep, it’s yours. I’ll have supplies and coin brought up as well. And in the meantime, you’ll be safe here for the night.” He squeezed the doorknob. He should’ve left it at that. “Your guards will escort you to the stables tomorrow at sunrise. And then I never want to see you again.”
“The feeling is mutual, Prince. Looks like we’re right back where we started.” Caramyn muttered, turning away.
At loss for a reply, he gently closed the door, as she kept her back to him the entire time. With trembling fingers, he slid the key into the lock and turned it until it clicked, knowing she would’ve heard it, loud and clear. And she would always think he was the monster he’d tried so hard to convince her he wasn’t.
She’d lied to him. But now it was he who was the liar.
As he made his way down to the Great Hall, tapping Caramyn’s room key against his palm, Wryan greeted him with a grin spread across his bearded face, but it faded as he neared. “Why so downcast, Your Highness?”
“Caramyn...” Asterious groaned, tossing the key to Wyran. “She’s…”
She’s a Shadowblood.He almost said it. But then he thought better of it. Wyran would want her dead and he would hound him for letting her go…for letting her live. And he didn’t want to hear any of it right now.
“She’s…not who I thought she was. She fooled me. She fooled me well. Can you find some guards to post at her room tonight?”
“Of course. In fact, I’ll stand guard myself. That way you won’t have to worry.” Asterious didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t know why. Wyran had always been loyal, despite his combativeness and stubborn mind.
Wryan tucked the key into his pocket and straightened his shoulders, shifting from one foot to the other, a coy smile forming on his face. “And, if I may say, I’ve had my suspicions about the bitch since day one.”
Something ignited inside of Asterious. “What did you call her?” He drew out the question, his voice like low thunder.
“A bitch?” Wryan stepped back with a nervous laugh. “All right, maybe ‘whore’ would be better? I mean look at what she’sdone to you. If I didn’t know better, Your Highness, I’d wonder if she’s put you under one of her witch spells.”
Asterious felt a simmer beneath his skin, hot rage flooding his every vein and muscle. And for once he no longer cared if Wyran saw it. He took a single step forward, the air around him tightening as something feral strained beneath his control. “You insult her, you insult me,” he said coldly. “You may have helped me, Wyran, but I am still your prince. Do not speak of her again. She’s dangerous. Powerful. And if you ever call her those things again, I’ll have you repeat them to her face so she can show you what she’s capable of.” He flexed his hand, the strength within him screaming to be released. “And then I’ll remind you of what I am.”
Wyran threw his hands up in a half-mocking gesture of surrender. “Apologies, Prince Asterious. I can see you’re feeling a bit...unwell. Be careful. You may need to inflict some…discipline…on yourself before it’s too late.”
“You’re right. I am indeed unwell.” Asterious stormed away, not meaning to have lost himself so easily on Wyran. But his emotions were taking over, and when they were in control, nothing good ever came of it. He could no longer distinguish between his anger and his heartbreak. All he knew was that he was feeling both. And he shouldn’t feel anything. With nowhere left to go, he stalked off to the far end of the castle, retreating to his chambers in the West Wing.
33
Nothing Left to Lose
