I burn to help him. To free him. I did this. I got him captured.
“The girl had nothing to do with this,” he all but growls. “Let her go.”
“We will be the judge of that,” a guard up ahead says. “You will be questioned.” He looks at me. His stare is cold. “You will tell the truth, girl. Do you hear me?”
I nod as I am dragged away.
We’re led away from the performance tent, toward the looming shadow of the castle. Sebastian is being led behind me. I try to turn back, but I can’t see through the mass of guards.
The castle is bigger than I thought. It seems to grow in stature the closer we get to it, its towers reaching up into the gray sky. Torches flicker in brackets along the walls.
No.
This can’t be happening.
What will I tell them?
Surely, they will see right through me? They’ll know.
I’m in just as much trouble as the Shadowfae King.
The guards march us through the courtyard. People scatter out of our way, their faces filled with fear.
The castle gates are up ahead. They shut behind us.
I’m trapped.
My heart sinks.
I’m done for. I know it.
4
Sebastian
I stumble forward as I’m thrown into a cell, my hands slamming against the rough stone wall as I catch myself. The door clangs shut behind me.
“A king?” There’s a snort. “I think not.” Most of the guards walk away. One or two take up vigil outside the cage door.
I stand there for a moment, my palms pressed against the cold stone, trying to catch my breath. My chest still tingles a little where the marking appeared. I lift one hand and touch it, feeling the warmth beneath my torn tunic.
It’s real.
My marking is real.
I’m not who I thought I was.
My whole life is one big lie.
I look at the texture of the stone against my palm. I can see. My name isnotBaldwin. I’mnota human. I’mnota simple clerk. Nothing about my life is simple…
I can see.
I’m a king.
No, that isn’t true. Iwasa king.
I turn and slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor. I look around at my cell, which is dark and windowless and dreary, taking it all in with awe. There’s a bucket in one corner that – thank Kakara – is empty. I stare at everything with wonder. Even the gray threadbare blanket in the corner.
