Relief warmed the icy fear that still gripped him by the neck. He gently tilted her chin upward, but her eyes rolled back.
“Yes,” he said, pulling her firmly against his chest. “You’re safe.”
Cedric’s head snapped toward the guards. “Secure him—quietly.”
They dragged the cloaked man away, kicking and flailing until one guard drove a fist into his gut. A low grunt escaped him as he crumpled, finally still enough to be hauled from the rooftop.
When they were alone, Cedric looked down at Nin’s listless form. “Maker, forgive me,” he murmured, tightening his grip as the wind cut piercing and cold through his hair. The weight of what had nearly happened pressed down on him, heavy and unforgiving.
He guided her carefully back down the stairs. “Tell their Majesties, the king and queen,” he ordered a passing servant, “that Princess Marianne is unwell and has retired to her chambers.”
“Yes, Captain,” the servant said, hurrying off.
Cedric carried Nin to her room and laid her gently on the bed.
Her grip tightened. “Don’t… let go…” She groaned softly.
Cedric froze.
Every fiber of his being begged to obey her command—to stay beside her and never let go.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, unsure whether he was apologizing for failing her, for knowing he couldn’t stay, or for both. Guilt flooded him in unrelenting waves, regardless.
Quietly, he loosened his hand from her grasp and brushed a loose lock of hair from her face.
The concealed door slid open, and Lucille rushed in.
“What happened?” she gasped, bringing her hands to her heart.
Cedric straightened. A chill replaced the warmth in his hand where he had touched Nin. “Someone drugged her and tried to lead her over the edge of the roof,” he replied. “They meant to kill her.”
Lucille’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, heavens—!”
“Please undress her and get her ready for bed,” Cedric said quietly.
“Yes, of course—at once.” Lucille hurried to prop Nin up and untie the laces of her gown.
“I’ll give her some privacy,” Cedric said, stepping back.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, the rough stone cool against his back as his breath came in ragged gasps. Slowly, he slid down until he collapsed onto the floor, his hands raking through his hair.
He had almost lost her.
Chapter eighteen
Adull ache pounded in Nin’s head when she woke. A gritty, dry texture filled her mouth, and she swallowed to reclaim some moisture. She blinked her eyes open, her vision blurry as she stared up at a familiar gold canopy.
How did she get here?
Nin remembered following a servant through the ballroom. She had stepped into a hallway and then…
Nothing. A dark space filled her remaining memories. Dread crawled out of her stomach and into her throat. How did the rest of the evening go? Had she somehow tripped and knocked herself unconscious?
Her gut churned with nausea.
A soft mound nestled by her side, and her fingers twitched over Bijou’s fur. At her stirring, Bijou stretched and licked her hand, her dark eyes shining with affection.
No wonder Princess Marianne adored this little creature. She was a light and comfort to her while she lived among a den of snakes.
