Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MORGANA
A nabel led me through a labyrinth of corridors. The palace walls seemed to close in around me, and for a moment I wondered if it were Aster tailing me with his monstrous shadows. I shivered, the cold seeping into my bones and settling like a heavy weight on my shoulders.
As we reached a secluded chamber, Anabel opened the door with a soft creak, revealing a room bathed in soft candlelight. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls. The warmth wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, my eyes dragging across the dimly lit room over to a small cot. Anabel walked over to a tall, wooden wardrobe and opened it. She pulled out a blue day dress, a brown belt already loosely secured around it. “Apologies, Lady Kyllingham, but the rest of your wardrobe has not yet arrived and this is all I have for my days out.”
“My wardrobe?” I muttered, accepting the gown hesitantly. When Anabel nodded, I gulped. “Why would I need a wardrobe?”
It was a foolish question. I knew the answer—I was nowhere near ready or worthy to escape Aster’s prying watch. Anabel squeaked in response and turned away to close the door. “I will let you dress.”
Anabel stepped out of the room, the door clicking softly behind her. I sighed softly, laid the dress over the back of a chair, reaching behind me to unlace the corset. It took a moment, and though I was surprised Anabel did not offer to help, I was grateful. I wasn’t sure if another person’s proximity would set me over the edge or not. After minutes of struggling, I freed myself of the corset and let it drop to the ground. Then I peeled the other layers from my body and shuddered. The cool, dry dress felt calming against my aching skin, and when I adjusted the sleeves, I saw tiny cuts from my training. Those shadows must have been far more of a physical threat than I had realized. I feared I’d die at his hands—at the hands of his magic, more like. If I did not find a way out, I’d perish.
Oh, gods. I’d die here if I was not cunning. If I grew too comfortable with these lavish bed sheets and the warm food, I’d be his next victim. His next sacrifice. If not intentionally, then during one of his sick, twisted training sessions. Perhaps one of those potions he slowly introduced into my system was poison. It’d be a slow way to go—and it kept his hands clean.
I stood frozen in the center of the room, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. As I gazed at my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. The black hair now fell loosely around my shoulders, free of the braid I’d torn apart, a stark contrast to the fierce determination that still burned in my eyes.
The realization of my vulnerability hit me like a physical blow. Aster’s hold on me was not just physical; it was insidious, creeping into the deepest recesses of my being. I needed to break free from his web before it ensnared me completely.
Anabel’s sudden return broke my reverie as she entered with a tray of food and a steaming cup of tea. Her eyes widened slightly at the intensity in my eyes, but she remained composed as she set down the meal on a nearby table. “I brought you some food, Lady Kyllingham. You must eat to keep up your strength.”
I barely registered her words as I continued to gaze into the flickering flames, my mind consumed by plans for escape. Despite this, the rich aroma of the lamb soup caught my attention, thick and flavorful, mingled with the earthiness of the freshly picked vegetables. It evoked a sense of comfort and warmth. Hints of rosemary and thyme floated in the air, adding a savory complexity to the inviting scent, tempting me to break from my anxious, cyclical panic to indulge in a warm meal. I approached the table and knelt to grab hold of the spoon. The soup was a deep golden color with small wisps of steam rising from it, chunks of tender lamb and colorful vegetables peeking through the surface.
I could drool over this borrowed dress. I stirred the spoon across the thick broth before taking a sip. It was hearty, the vegetables adding a crisp texture. Suddenly, it didn’t surprise me that Anabel, Vera, and generations prior had spent their lives in servitude to the crown. If I had a meal like this every evening, which I knew still paled in comparison to what the crown was fed, I wouldn’t want to leave either. I was fortunate to have stale bread and bland, slimy meat on a good night.
Anabel watched me with a mix of hesitation and curiosity as I savored the meal, her focus flitting between me and the tray of food. I could feel her unspoken questions hanging in the air, a silent inquiry about my well-being and intentions. The warmth of the meal seeped through me, thawing the icy tendrils of fear that had coiled around my heart.
After a moment, I set down the spoon and turned to Anabel. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice soft but sincere. Anabel’s lips parted in surprise at the unexpected gratitude, and she dipped her head in response.
“It is my duty to serve, Lady Kyllingham,” she replied, her tone respectful yet tinged with a hint of warmth. I detected a flicker of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil that churned within me. She hesitated, stammering on her words before finding her voice. “May I… may I speak plainly, Lady Kyllingham?”
I twisted to face her and nodded.
“I cannot imagine the challenges you face within these walls. I understand you are to be kept under a firm watch, may that be by the crown prince or a guard, but you are different. I find myself relating to you, and that makes me inclined to believe you are not a royal captive.”
I wanted to respond, but the words failed me. I merely arched my brows, waiting for her elaboration.
“What I mean is simple, really. I fear and feel for you, and although I am fiercely loyal to Prince Aster and the royal family, I do sympathize. If you should ever need a friend without status, I am available.” Her cheeks flushed, and she gasped. “Gods, I apologize. I should not have spoken out of turn?—”
“Anabel,” I said quickly and smiled, sadness wrecking me that she thought status would matter to me. “We are both without status. You call me lady, but I am no such thing. I never will be. I asked for dry clothes and a friend. You have given me that, without strings attached by the looks of it. I am grateful.”
Anabel approached the place I knelt and lowered to her knees too. So near the fire, I could see her for who she truly was. Her hair was curly and brown, her tan skin was free from scars or blemishes. She had youthful curiosity sparkling across her green eyes, and when she smiled, it was true. So true it made me smile too. “This royal family is good. Most of them, at least.”
My expression faltered, and I cleared my throat. Of course she believed them to be good. She’d served them faithfully for decades—it was all she’d ever known. Meanwhile, the truth existed beyond the palace walls. I yearned to hug Isaac and Thena again. To tell them I was okay, and that we’d go to the tavern again soon to drink and laugh and make fun of the state of today. They were out of reach though—as was my key to understanding more about Galen’s disappearance. The letter I’d written was still tucked away in my bedroom.
I hadn’t a way to send it.
But as Anabel stared at me, I felt a sense of honesty I hadn’t before. Would she help me? Would it be unkind to expect her to?
“Anabel,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper as I searched her eyes, now wide and brimming with unspoken words. “There is a letter in my room that needs to be sent. It is a plea to continue searching for my brother, Galen. I trust in your crown,” I said, the lie stinging my tongue, “but I do not trust my freedom will be earned in haste. It has already been far too long since his disappearance, and while I do not expect you to understand my motivation or to even sympathize with this, I trust you can sympathize with the fear I hold regarding his safety. Anabel, my heart aches with the uncertainty of his fate. Please, will you help me get it out of the palace? It is a risk, I know, but one I must take.”
Anabel’s eyes widened as she took in my words, her expression torn between duty to the royal family and compassion for my plight. I could see the internal struggle reflected in her gaze, the conflict playing out in her mind before she finally spoke.
Silence hung heavy in the air between us as Anabel wrestled with the request. “This request is a dangerous one. The consequences of defying the crown, of aiding you in this way… they could be severe.”
The guilt of confiding in her weighed me down. I nodded. “I understand the risks, Anabel. I would never ask this of you if I did not believe it was truly necessary.”
“Your brother is lost?” she asked after a pause. “What happened to him?”
It was rare I revisited his disappearance. Not in detail, at least. I cleared my throat. “He was a soldier in the Umbran Guard. I understood the dangers of working so close to Vespera’s border, but one morning I woke to a knock on my door following strife near a camp. They told me he was dead. I didn’t believe them. I refused to, in fact. He wasn’t in the type of work that resulted in dead soldiers,” I said, my voice cracking. I cleared it again to push away the nerves, curling my hands together in my lap. “Good thing I kept digging, because I found so many things that didn’t make sense. The strife they referenced was a party with his squadron. I wrote letters to them but only heard back from one. A woman. She told me that he ran off into the void because he claimed he heard a child screaming for help.”
“Well, forgive me, Lady Kyllingham, but what makes you so certain he did not perish in Vespera?”
“Because not a day after that letter arrived, that soldier was hanged in town after being gutted alive.”
Her face paled. At first, I thought she might vomit at the mere thought.
“I put out a missing-person request in the papers. Every one I could afford, all across the country. A man responded to me with evidence that my claims had validity. This man said his wife was tortured and sent to live inside Vespera’s shores. That there were cults who worshiped the darkness and kept people alive in Vespera. He sent me names, even. Wealthy men of all statuses who had no business being so interested in a place that should be their death sentence. We started giving people information. He wanted his wife back, and I wanted my brother.”
“And you were so quick to trust?”
I felt like a fool, but I nodded. “It’s been years, and I can count how many times I’ve been let down by him on one hand. His information is good, and I trust that he can help me while I remain here finding my own answers and earning my freedom.”
“And this letter. It is going to him?”
I nodded once, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It is. It’s to let him know I’m safe, and to continue searching. To continue digging up the why and how. We were so close, Anabel,” I rasped and grabbed hold of her wrist in desperation. “I’d even found the man who last saw Galen. His information was good. I just need him to know I’m not yet dead.”
Anabel looked down at my hand clutching her wrist with a mix of surprise and something akin to pity. She gently pried my fingers off and met my gaze with determination that caught me off guard. “I will help you, Morgana,” she said firmly, using my name for the first time since we had met. “I cannot promise you that there won’t be consequences for this, but I sympathize with your heartache. Tell me where the letter is. I will ensure it is in the next collection of mail in the morning.”
Relief flooded through me, mingling with gratitude for this unlikely ally in the gilded cage that was the palace. “It is in the top left drawer of my vanity, Anabel. Your aid will not go unnoticed.”