“Leave me be,” I toss over my shoulder and walk to the tables.
How can I not be angry, when he’s allowing my brother to sit in prison with a life sentence for merely protecting his love? Connor fell for a man in the chapel’s choir. And that man’s uncle was the priest. While beliefs have fluctuated between areas in the Dragon Lands, Millton was known for its harsh, reserved traditions.
When the priest stumbled upon an intimate moment with Connor and his choirboy, he threw Connor in the dungeons. Beat the choirboy in front of him to teach him a lesson, then turned his wrath onto Connor.
He was missing for eight days.
Eightdays of beatings.
The memory turns my stomach sour.Crumples my heart, the flash of his face, swollen and bruised. How I held him in my arms when he came home, both of us sobbing.
The choirboy died from his wounds.
I go straight for the nearest table with wine glasses. Plopping down into a seat, I grab the fullest one and throw back the liquid into my throat to wash back the tears beginning to blur my vision.
Aelia and Lyra settle into chairs on either side of me.
“Are you…alright?” Aelia asks to my left.
“Did you get reprimanded for being late?” Lyra asks on my right. No doubt testing to see if she too will be in trouble.
I turn to Lyra. My hand shakes as I work to force down my anger and sorrow over the painful resurfaced memory. “The only one who gives a rat’s ass about that is Lady Bethany.”
Lyra scans around us before leaning forward. “You’re upset. What is it?”
I down the rest of the wine, and as I set the glass on the table I spot Devin. The sorrow in my veins turns into icy determination. “Would you ladies excuse me?”
Before they can answer, I rise and take a new full wine glass with me from another table, walking straight for the general speaking with several guards. As soon as he hears my clicking of heels on the marble above the music, he turns. Eyes widening before snapping some command at the guards that makes them disperse.
“Should I be reaching for my sword?” he asks.
I stop before him. “You might not agree to it. But you will allow me my own weapon.”
He bursts out into a mocking laugh. “You can once I trust you.”
A small smile settles on my lips and widens. And…I remember. It’s like I’ve broken through the wall of ice in my head and found a steady flow of flashing memories. “You don’t like me because I qualified for your position. Isn’t that right?”
His face falls into something like a warning.
I continue, leaning forward, “You’re jealous of me, aren’t you? I might not have my memory, but I could easily kick your ass. Cyrus had chosen me for your position and…and I turned it down. That’s the only reason you have it, isn’t it?”
“Watch. Your. Tongue.”
“And if I don’t? Please…” I laugh, “Indulge me with what you’ll do.”
He takes a step forward, craning his neck to look down at me. “Dare I mentionwhyyou refused it? Haven’t remembered that little part yet?”
His words strike home, danger ringing in my bones. With a triumphant grin, he whispers, “You haven’t, have you? You know…” Another step closer, placing us toe-to-toe. He lifts a hand and traces the scar on my abdomen down to my knee from a few inches away. While he doesn’t touch me, the movement sends a shiver down my spine.
“That little scar of yours? I imagine it hasn’t faded entirely. And I know exactly…” he leans even closer to me, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “…where that’s from.”
Everything turns black as I squeeze my eyes closed, my breath kicking up a pace in my chest. Fear floods my senses. Distant screaming and ripping flesh in darkness haunt my vision. When I open my eyes, Devin’s walking away from me. The candlelight flashing on his golden armor.
I need a weapon.
And I need it now.
Eighteen
