“That is far enough,” the dungeon keeper called out. “Another step or two and he can reach you.”
Nicholas wanted to say something back but he remained silent. Phillip laughed and then cursed him. “You have always been afraid of me, Stone, admit it!
Nicholas smiled. But he said nothing.
“How did you get away from those incompetent imbeciles?” he demanded to know, then laughed at himself. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
He was probably correct, Nicholas thought. He should have killed him.
“Where is she, Stone? Where is Julianna, my wife?”
Nicholas closed his eyes. “You do not have the right to call her that.”
“Oh no? How about whore? Or bit—”
Nicholas stepped forward and punched him in the face, tearing his bottom lip, loosening two teeth, and breaking Phillip’s nose.
Nicholas stood in his spot for a moment but Phillip did not hit him back and, after a moment, Nicholas moved out of reach. He said nothing but watched as Phillip spit out blood.
“I’m going to have your balls for that,” Phillip promised.
Nicholas only smiled.
Knowing now how to provoke him, Phillip grinned, then scowled when pain from his lip shot through him. “I’m going to gain my freedom and then I’m going to come after her.”
“You will not be free, Phillip,” Nicholas bit out over his voice. “I will kill you first.”
“And what will your beloved mother think if you do?”
“When,” Nicholas corrected and then shrugged. “I do not know what she thinks now. I’m certain I will not know what she thinks later.”
DeAvoy narrowed his gaze on nothing in particular. “She is not as empty headed as everyone believes. She used to curse my mother while she was in the pit.”
“Why not your father?” Nicholas asked, more curious than he wanted to be.
“He had nothing to do with it,” Phillip told him. “My father was the one who kept Berengaria out of the pit. When he died, my mother was the one who had her taken and put away. My mother always hated—”
“Berengaria is your mother,” Nicholas reminded him.
“No! She choseyou. You! A serving boy. A waif. She gave you all her love. That is why when my mother had her thrown into the pit, I rejoiced.”
Young Simon would tell him that Phillip was speaking from pain and jealousy of what Nicholas had had with Berengaria.
Nicholas didn’t give a damn.
“You’re not going to make it out of here alive,” he promised.
“I think I will,” Phillip countered. “Do you want to hit me again?”
“Oh, aye, I do.” Enough. He’d tried. Oh, how he’d tried not to lose his control, but Phillip had done too much to the people Nicholas loved. He took too much pleasure in it. “In fact, I probably will. When I come at you, I will make it as fair a fight as it can be with your ankles shackled.” He quirked his mouth to one side. “So you better start preparing for the worst now.”
Phillip snarled at him. “If you would have opened your mouth like this to me in the past…”
“What?” Nicholas put to him. “What would you have done in the past that you cannot do now? Tell your father? Your mother? Have me whipped for pounding your face into the ground?”
Phillip’s face burned red and the muscles in his neck were taut. He was livid, ready to inflict his worst. But he had nothing except whatever he could do with his own hands. Therefore, he had nothing.
“All you have to do,” Nicholas said, wanting to fight, “is speak unkindly about Julianna, and we will begin.”
