“Do you have any wine?” one of the guards asks.
“I do indeed,” Julienne says. “Let me fetch it.”
More movement above us tells me that the guards are settling in, making themselves comfortable.
This is going to take a while.
I shift, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders. The space is so cramped that my knee brushes against Sebastian’s. He moves away, somehow making me feel worse.
I didn’t do anything, except save the ingrate.
Minutes pass. The guards above us talk in low voices, talking about nothing of importance.
My back starts to ache. The adrenaline that’s been keeping me going is starting to fade, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion.
Carefully, slowly, I lie down on the mattress.That’s better.I’ll lie here for a little while, and then I’ll sit back up.
My eyes feel heavy.
The voices above continue their low murmur.
It doesn’t take long for my eyelids to start to droop. I need to sit up. I will…soon.
13
Sebastian
Isla’s breathing changes, becoming deeper, slower, and more rhythmic as she drifts off to sleep.
I remain sitting on the edge of the mattress, my back against the rough earthen wall, listening to the guards above.
“How’s about another bottle!” one of the guards calls out. It’s the same one who spoke of Tryfon. All I can think is that he is alive. He wasn’t found out, and for that I am truly grateful. I feel bad that he had to stab himself to make my escape believable.
There’s the sound of a cork being pulled, followed by the glug of liquid being poured. Dishes clang as one of them serves up more stew. The guards have made themselves right at home in Julienne’s cabin.
“We should get back out there,” another one of them says. It’s the authoritative one from earlier. “If we’re caught resting and drinking, there will be consequences.”
“Who’s going to tell?” another guard responds. “As long as none of us talks about it, we’re fine. One more bottle and thenwe’ll continue our search. I don’t particularly relish the idea of running into him.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re right.” The first guard sighs. “One more drink, then we need to get going.”
“Did you see what he did to those guards on the road?” another says. “There were shadows everywhere. The men were thrown down like bags of straw. The males closest to him died instantly.”
“Thirteen died,” another adds quietly.
“Another ten are in the infirmary. Several are in bad shape and might not make it. Poor Toby has at least nine broken bones.”
I feel guilty, hearing them talk. I hadn’t meant to kill anyone. Just rough them up enough to get away. I thought I could control my power like before. Turns out that I was wrong.
There’s a long pause. Then someone clears their throat. “He’s powerful. More powerful than we expected.”
“He’s the king; of course he’s powerful.”
“Hewasthe king. Don’t let the queen hear you talking like that or she might smite you down.”
“King or no, I wouldn’t want to face him,” a male with a deep voice mutters.
