Chapter 15
15
T he rest of the palace came out of lockdown, and at some point, the terrible alarm had ceased its endless squawking.
But she still felt it, like a pulse in her blood, pounding through each vein.
Aven had torn in two, with part of her clawing for a way out of this damn palace and part of her still trapped in the safe room with Roran, desperate to learn more about him. What he wanted out of his life and why he'd become the way he was.
It made no sense to her.
He was her enemy, a predator, someone who stared at her with heated intent. Yet he’d also taken her out of harm’s way, even if it was against her wishes. He was solemn and stubborn and a huge pain in the neck, but something in his touch lingered in an uncomfortable way.
He’d probably only helped her because of orders from his father. Yes, that made sense. But the thought annoyed her.
Her footsteps fell heavy when her legs felt too heavy to fully lift with each step.
“I’m sorry you were caught up in the middle of things,” Cillian said.
The sound of his voice brought her back to the moment. Aven had completely forgotten that he walked at her side. “What do you mean?” She glanced sideways at his sharp profile, the strong set of his jaw, and the patrician nose.
Like the King’s nose.
“The attack came on us suddenly, and I gave only the meagerest thought as to your safety as I tried to quell the rogues. As a result, you were forced into the chaos, and it is a mistake I won’t allow to happen again,” Cillian bit out.
As though he had the power to stop those things. “Do you anticipate another group of humans storming the palace?” she asked.
He stared at her, surprised at her knowledge. “How did you know it was mortals?”
“I saw them.” Which was partially true. There was no way she’d admit to eavesdropping on his conversation. “You’re not responsible for me, Cillian.”
“On the contrary,” he argued. “I am responsible for making sure you stay safe. I thought the threat was much less than it actually turned out to be. Trust me when I tell you, Aven, it shouldn’t have fallen on Roran to make sure you got to a protected place.”
Something about his words did strange things to her insides. The care and compassion might be deliberate, designed to knock her off her stride, and yet something about them felt real. As though they came from a place of integrity inside the golden prince.
“Well, I appreciate it, then,” she forced herself to say quickly. “Your concern.”
He stopped outside her room and brought her to stillness with the press of his hand against her elbow. “Are you all right?” He brushed his thumb across her arm, and Aven stilled further.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Her voice didn’t tremble. She held herself entirely still under his scrutiny and sucked in a breath when Cillian ran both hands over her forearms, her shoulders. His grip was light enough for her to break if she felt the need.
Much to her surprise, she did not.
“I’d feel terrible if anything happened to you,” he admitted.
“Why?” she breathed out. “I’m nothing but a conquest to you. A spoil of war.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you really think?”
“I think you are a very good actor.” Aven stared him down, waiting for him to mock her about her observation. Waiting for him to offer her all manner of excuses as to why she was wrong. Finally, Cillian ducked his head.
“I’ll do my best to prove myself to you then, Aven. It will be a challenge, I’m sure, but with time, I hope we might be able to see each other for who we really are. I want you to know this: you might have been brought here under bad circumstances, but you are a guest, and as such, you deserve to be treated well.”
It was a sweeter statement than she expected.
She had to be careful.
Her observational skills had been a huge necessity in the past. She needed to be able to see the various outcomes of a fight before it occurred in order to position her men in exactly the right place to optimally defend Grimrose.
On that front, she’d failed abysmally. It cost her more than she’d been willing to pay.
Currently, her ability to calculate several steps ahead might make the difference between a life of pain and a life of semi-comfort where she actually felt like a guest . Yet she still wanted to escape.
“If you want to try to get to know each other, then I’m not going to stop you,” she said through her teeth. Forcing herself to smile at Cillian, knowing her time was limited. “Now, if you don’t mind…” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder.
Cillian arched a brow imperiously. “Why would I mind?”
“I’m quite sick of Roran’s company, and I’m tired. I’d like to rest in my room.” And end the conversation immediately. Her insides squirmed, and so far, she’d gotten lucky in hiding her wand.
Said luck wouldn’t hold forever.
Something sharp poked at her heart when Cillian reached out and tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I’ll let you rest and come check on you later, then.”
“I’m sure you have too many other things to handle. There’s no need to watch out for me,” Aven insisted.
“It would be a pleasure.”
The moment froze between them.
His gaze raked over her from top to bottom, and she wondered distantly if he was able to see beneath the facade to her core and soul. The wild, unbreakable pulse beating in her body that demanded she take her freedom back. The time was ripe for it.
If one group of poorly organized humans got through fae defenses—and they’d have to be in order to be cut down so easily—then another had a decent chance of success. Which meant it was only a matter of time before she broke out of here.
She didn’t want to wait.
Couldn’t wait, not with the rope tightening around her neck. The princes paid her too much attention. It may lessen as the days and weeks went by, but what if it got worse?
Finally, Cillian’s attention drifted down the hall, and he nodded again, this time in farewell.
She popped into her room to check for Nora and found it blissfully empty. Aven went still for only a moment, her mind shifting through several different scenarios. With the palace coming out of lockdown, the guards would no doubt be busy trying to check on the noble subjects and the royal family.
Roran and Cillian would be distracted, along with their bastard of a sire.
What better time for her to run?
Let the countdown begin.
She had nothing to bring with her, to burden her on her way back to Grimrose. Food might be an issue, as well as finding sources of fresh water, but she’d lived off the land before during excursions to spy on enemy camps.
She’d never backed away from a challenge before.
The idea grew inside of her, winding everywhere until she knew she had to go, urged into action immediately.
The halls of lavish opulence all bled into one another, and if Aven hadn’t spent days traversing them, memorizing them, she knew she’d have gotten lost in an instant. Her blood went cold thinking of what would happen to her if King Donal caught her trying to escape. The thought sharpened her mind, had her eyes narrowing. She might not be able to fight him with magic, her wand all but useless in the face of fae magic in their stronghold, but she might be able to outrun them all if she got a head start.
Confidence did nothing to calm her racing heart. She’d rather take this chance than face a future with a marriage shackle to one of the princes.
Aven pretended to take her time walking through the hallways toward the main entrance. Marking enemies and hiding places, although none of the guards she passed paid her any mind. She had no weapons to draw their attention.
Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she scanned the steps, the entry hall below, carefully watching and listening for anything amiss and finding nothing.
Trusting her instincts led her to victory before. Perhaps not this last time?—
No.
She cut off that line of thinking before she sank into despair.
Casting a subtle glance over her shoulder for Cillian and seeing nothing, she hustled down the steps. Mercifully, she was soon heading down one of the side corridors toward a door leading out to the herb gardens off the kitchen. She kept a healthy pace and her attention sharp, even when Roran’s remarks kept playing in her head.
The small bit of vulnerability they’d shared with each other had felt refreshing. She didn’t think he was lying when he expressed his distaste in serving his king, and yet it didn’t fit with the image she had crafted of him.
If they had more time together, they might actually come to an understanding. Hell, she’d probably end up liking him. More than she should.
The idea sat poorly with her, and Aven shoved it down into that dark part of her again.
Double glass doors led from the hallway into the herb garden and swung open when she pushed them, their hinges silent.
She had no idea how far she’d make it. Hopefully she’d be far enough away before anyone realized she’d bolted.
The farther she made it from the stuffy confines of the palace, the farther she crept through the garden in the open air, the better Aven felt. If the rebels were able to sneak into Mourningvale, then it was entirely possible for her to sneak out of it.
The dappled sunlight through the overhead trees cast part of the garden into shadow. She glanced back and forth. Then stopped entirely when something shifted in the corner of her vision. When she turned toward the movement, she saw nothing outside of a flowering bush, each blossom dripping golden nectar onto the path below it.
The breath in her lungs went stale, and she gasped sharply.
Wow. Now she stooped to jumping at shadows? Ridiculous .
Aven took a giant step forward, even with the trickle of panic threatening her. She made it this far, hadn’t she? Her belly was filled with food from her breakfast, and her long sleeves would keep her warm during the chilled nights. Her shoes were flimsy at best, only good for polished palace floors, but they would have to suffice.
Her father needed her.
Whatever deals they had worked out with the Fae King, she cared for none of them.
Another quick survey of the garden around her revealed an open road, no one following her. She glanced behind her one last time but kept her forward movements light and steady. The garden closed in around her as she approached the darkened boxwood hedges marking its border. Beyond were trees and the fae village no one had dared show her, like knowing too much of this land would somehow empower her.
She hardly dared to breathe too loudly and call attention to herself.
The fae had horses. Perhaps in the village she’d be able to steal one for herself. Four legs would make her flight much faster.
She reached an old metal gate in between boxwoods and rested her hand on one of the rungs. Every cell in her body urged her to hurry. Her heartbeat raced to the point of being a thunderous beat in her ears. Aven pushed against the gate?—
Just as a hand wrapped around her throat and tugged her backward.
“If I’d known you needed fresh air, I would have been happy to accompany you. It wasn’t too much trouble.”
Cillian’s fingers tightened on her skin, and he slowly maneuvered her around to face him, her eyes widening in fear. He squeezed again, the warning apparent, and she didn’t dare move. Not when his jaw clenched and a muscle on the side of his neck twitched.
This was the end. Caught before she made it out and by the person she’d lied to with a straight face.
“So much for resting in your room. Hm, Aven?” His words were a purr, shifting into a growl she felt all the way down to her toes.
“Please,” she stated. “I need to get out of here. I can’t stay.”
She refused to apologize. Not when Cillian bared his teeth at her and not when he shoved her back against the gate. She sucked in a breath and faced him with her shoulders thrown back and her posture strong, even when it brought his hand harder against her throat.
“You want to throw your weight around like a brute, then by all means. I’d be happy for the exercise. I can move as well as any soldier in this dress.” The folds of fabric hid the way her knees threatened to buckle.
The tentative truce they’d managed to build with each other strained, threatened to vanish.
Cillian stepped closer, the snarl on his lips sliding down into a frown the longer he looked at her. “You’re a stupid fool if you thought you could run away. It’s daylight. There are thousands of eyes around to mark your movements, not to mention centuries in the village who might have shot you down and things in the forest with a thirst for mortals.”
“I know how to handle myself,” she tossed back.
“You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re reacting like a frightened animal in a maze, and you’ve ended up at a dead end. What will you do now?” Cillian asked. “Besides posture and try to intimidate me.”
“I don’t belong here. I belong at Grimrose, with my father, working to repair the kingdom you’ve destroyed.”
“There is nothing there for you. Nothing but struggle and a losing war. You’re here for a reason,” Cillian snapped back.
“I’m here because your father maneuvered mine into an impossible position.”
Cillian shrugged, unbothered. “That’s how you win battles, Aven. You of all people should know better. Just like you should have known the absolute frivolity of trying to escape. Did you seriously think no one would find you? I’m not going to let you go.”
She drew in a ragged breath and said, “I knew I needed to try.”
She never would have forgiven herself if she’d seen a chance and decided to stay put.
He stalked forward, caging her between his body and the gate, his slender fingers wrapping around the metal on either side of her head. Heat spread from his body through her. Cillian stared at her, through her, his nostrils flared. “Now that you’ve tried, what are you going to do?”
Again he’d managed to catch her off guard with these strange questions. In all her years of fighting against the fae, she knew they were devious and had never had a straightforward conversation with one.
If interrogations could be termed a conversation.
She resisted the urge to rub her chest and place her hand between them for more space. Not when his nearness tickled something in her abdomen. Awakening a part of her she didn’t dare look at too closely.
“I’m not going to give up.”
“Then you and I are going to have fun playing cat and mouse with each other. No matter where you run, I am going to be behind you, and I am going to catch you.”
She might be a fool for making an attempt to run, but she’d be even more foolish to think Cillian would grow tired and give up on her.
“Why does it matter?” she asked.
His scowl degraded into an expression of pure suspicion. “You gave your word you would stay. So did your King. Those words are bonds, and now you belong here. Do you really want to return to a life of sadness and strife rather than living in luxury in a palace?”
He was right. She had given her word. But…
“It’s a comfortable lie,” she insisted. “Doesn’t make reality any less real. You call me a guest. I call it being a prisoner.”
“It’s not a lie. The luxury of life here also comes with responsibilities, which you’ll see soon enough,” he added, shrugging one shoulder like lifting both was too much effort. “Now, are you going to come back with me? Or are you going to make me chase you again?” He dropped his head and closed the gap between them, sliding the tip of his nose along the side of her face.
Why did she get the feeling he would like that?
Why did she, too, like the imagery?
Aven cleared her throat. With as much pride as she could muster, she nodded. “Lead the way and I’ll follow.”
Cillian took his time before he shifted backward, scoffing. “Somehow, I doubt very much you will.” The flatness in his tone told her exactly what he thought before he reached and twined his fingers through hers, gripping her tightly.
He might not consider her a threat, but she knew the time would come when they’d butt heads again. He was the victor this round. Next time? She prayed it would be anyone’s game to win.