Elodie scowled. Her throat was dry, her heart was hammering, and she didn’t trust her voice not to shake.
Alaric didn’t seem to mind her silence. He strolled around the cell as if admiring the architecture, his hands clasped behindhis back. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you properly. Gareth’s little miracle, appearing from nowhere in a flash of lightning. The servants at Greywatch are quite convinced you’re one of the fair folk.” He turned to face her, those cold blue eyes assessing. “Are you? A faerie, I mean?”
“I’m an archaeologist,” Elodie said. Her voice came out steadier than she’d expected. “From a university in London. Not that you’d know what that means.”
“Oh, I know more than you’d think.” Alaric moved closer, and she forced herself not to flinch. “I know you’ve bewitched my former protégé. Turned a broken, silent shell of a man into something human again. I know his household signs now instead of speaking, like a troupe of mummers. I know he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.”
He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell the wine on his breath.
“I could have attacked Greywatch directly, you know.” His tone was conversational, almost pleasant. “I have the men. The resources. But lords who attack other lords draw attention. Richard’s regents frown on open warfare between nobles—’tis bad for taxes, bad for order. And there’s the small matter of the king’s cousin, who still remembers that Gareth saved his life.” He smiled a charming, empty smile. “Much better to draw one’s enemy out. To make him come to you. To let him die in a rescue attempt—heroic, but foolish. Tragic, really.”
Elodie’s stomach turned. He’d thought of everything.
“And who would blame me for defending my own keep against an invader?” Alaric spread his hands, the picture of innocence. “He attacks, my men respond, and sadly, the Silent Reaper falls. A terrible loss. I shall wear mourning for a se’nnight, at least.”
“You’re a monster.”
“I am a practical man.” He shrugged elegantly. “Gareth should have stayed beneath me. Should have been grateful for my patronage instead of prancing about with his shiny new castle and his royal favour. He forgot his place. I am simply reminding him of it.”
“By murdering innocent people? By attacking a castle full of refugees?”
“Unfortunate necessities, my lady.” He didn’t sound remotely troubled. “Though I must admit, your little evacuation was impressive. Most of the servants escaped. ’Tis a pity. I’d hoped to have more leverage.”
He reached out and touched her face, a gentle caress that made her skin crawl, and smiled at her flinch. “You’re the bait, little faerie. And he will come for you. Because that’s what fools in love do.” His thumb traced her cheekbone, proprietary and cold. “My archers will turn him into a pincushion before he gets within twenty feet of the gates. And you shall watch. I’ll have you brought to the walls so you can see him fall. Then we shall discuss your future.”
“I don’t have a future with you.”
“Oh, but you do.” Alaric’s smile widened. “You’re either a genuine faerie, in which case, you have value as a curiosity, or you’re a madwoman that Gareth was foolish enough to fall in love with. Either way, methinks I shall keep you. A reminder of my victory.”
Something cold and fierce rose up in Elodie’s chest. Not fear, she was beyond fear now. Something harder. Something that had been forged over years of being underestimated, dismissed, overlooked.
“He’ll kill you,” she said quietly.
Alaric’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”
“You think you know him, but you don’t.” She met his gaze without flinching. “You know the boy you trained. The eageryoung knight, who believed in honour and service and doing what was right. But that boy died in a forest clearing three years ago, and you’re the one who killed him.”
Something flickered behind Alaric’s eyes, not quite fear, but close.
“The man he became?” Elodie continued, her voice gaining strength. “He survived you, the silence, and survived three years of building himself into something that could face you again. You think he hasn’t been planning for this moment? You think he doesn’t know your walls, your weaknesses, every secret you’ve ever tried to hide?”
Alaric’s smile had frozen on his face.
“You should have killed him when you had the chance.” Elodie let the words fall like stones. “You had your blade at his throat and you walked away. That was your mistake. Not Greywatch. Not me. The mistake was letting him live.”
For just a moment, one heartbeat, one breath, uncertainty flickered across Alaric’s handsome face. His hand dropped from her cheek. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly, as if he were suddenly aware of how close he was standing to something dangerous.
“God’s blood,” he breathed, and for the first time his voice held something other than smug certainty. “You truly believe that.” Then he laughed. But the laugh sounded less certain than before. Forced. A performance rather than genuine amusement.
“Brave little faerie.” He stepped back, composing himself with visible effort. “I almost admire you. But bravery will not stop an arrow. Will not stop a sword, and will not stop me.” He turned and walked to the door, pausing on the threshold. “Sleep well, my lady. On the morrow, you shall have quite a view from the walls.”
The door clanged shut behind him. The key scraped in the lock. His footsteps faded up the stairs, and Elodie was alone. Butshe’d seen it. That flicker of doubt. That moment when Alaric’s certainty had wavered.
Good, she thought fiercely.Be afraid. You should be.
She didn’t sleep. Instead, she sat against the wall and let her mind race through possibilities, each more desperate than the last. The chains were too strong to break. The walls were solid stone, and the door was iron-banded oak set in a frame that had probably held prisoners for a hundred years.
Think, Elodie. You’re supposed to be smart. Think.
