“No, why?”
“Perhaps you should use a different name,” I whispered as we walked down the ramp towards security.
“Names,” a female guard asked flatly.
“Cordelia Wildheart,” I said, flashing her a wide smile. “The surname’s one word.” I gestured towards Marshen. “And this is—”
“Marshen Deucane,” a man bellowed from behind us. My lips pursed tightly, and I watched the female before us stiffen. When I turned around, an armed white male with white eyes stood tall behind us. I blinked.
To my surprise, Marshen’s lips turned upward, and he grinned at the sight of the white male.
“Son of a bitch,” Marshen mumbled before the two of them clasped each other in a back-patting embrace.
“I wasn’t sure if you were dead, but I shouldn’t have doubted a leeching death-evading bastard such as yourself.”
“Oh, you won’t get rid of me that easily.” Marshen chuckled.
“Well, this is awkward,” White said, abruptly ending his own laugh. “I’m sorry, my friend, but orders are to get you bound and immediately escorted to the castle.”
“Well, do what you have to do,friend,” Marshen said, offering the man his wrists. The female went to reach for my arm but Marshen grabbed her own. “Not her,” he warned. “She remains unbound.”
“I’m sorry, Marsh, those are the king’s orders.”
The female went to reach for my arm once more but I pulled back. Marshen put himself between us. “She remains unbound,” he all but bellowed.
The female went to lunge for Marshen but White pulled her back.
“What’s this commotion about?” a deep voice called from behind us. A pale male with brown hair and one blue eye stood behind Marshen, hands at his hips. The other eye was covered with a leather eyepatch.
“Captain Whelm,” White said, “Marshen Deucane cooperated for his arrest but demands that she remain unbound.”
“Marshen Deucane, huh? Both shall be bound and escorted immediately. Split them up. King’s orders.”
“We shouldn’t be treated as prisoners,” I protested.
“He is dangling on an execution order—how else should we treat you?”
“We demand to see the king.”
“And that’s exactly where we’ll be taking you,” he replied smugly. “Keep them in the basement. King Ryvar will decide their fates tomorrow.”
Basement?My heart thrummed.
And then someone called my name.
“Delia?”
I gasped. “Joel!”
Joel flashed me a wide grin. He approached, unfazed by the guards that surrounded us.
“What in Boreas’s name are you doing here? Is he with you?” Joel looked around us in search of Aegir. He moved closer. “Hey, do you know if he’s still mad at me? And did he—” His nostrils flared. “Did he claim you?” he whispered.
“I’m in the middle of getting arrested. No. I’m not sure, and…yes, he did.”
“Arrested?” Joel barked out a laugh. “Come, I’ll take you home. No lady of ours gets arrested.”
Home?
