Chapter Thirty-Eight
Analleia
This evening had been a nonstop avalanche of events that kept getting worse and worse.
When the iron door clanged shut behind us, my heart stopped.
Just like it had when I had nearly fallen who knows how many feet to the ground.
Taking Valeris out on the ledge had been stupid, but I had been more concerned about getting away from him and back to Desmond.
I hadn’t thought Valeris would actually follow me out there.
I hadn’t slipped in over three years, and although I knew it was the building’s fault and not mine, the accident unnerved me.
It was a careless mistake. One that should have never happened.
I should have been more observant and noticed there was an issue with the stone.
My mind had been too preoccupied with the searing pain in my side from the healing wound, the screaming of my muscles as I tried to use anything but my abdominal ones to keep my balance.
Valeris had held my life in his hands.
I shivered, unable to bear the thought of where I would be right now if he hadn’t caught me, and well aware he had risked falling to his own death to save me.
I’d seen the fear and strain in his face as he reached for me, the concern in his eyes as he’d stared at me as I lay atop him, clutching at his shirt.
I had wondered at it, at the sincerity that seemed to hover there, but then he’d let the sarcasm rip from his mouth, and I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
I held in a grumble.
My side itched and burned, all the motion aggravating the wound. As far as I could tell, it hadn’t reopened, but it wouldn’t take much more. A sharp shot of pain came from my shoulder; I must have cut it on the jagged border of the shutters over the window.
We picked our way through the short tunnel, little more than an interlude into the next room, which was circular, the ceiling stretching upward. We must have crossed underneath the staircase and entered the center of the tower.
A blue sapphire the size of my palm lay on a table next to a folded piece of paper.
Valeris reached for the paper, but my hand shot out, stopping him. “It’s too easy.”
They had made us nearly kill ourselves to get in here and trapped us twice.
“There has to be a catch,” I said.
I examined the table. A booby trap had to be laid somewhere, providing us with another obstacle to overcome before completing the puzzle. Valeris searched the room with me.
“How much worse can it get?” His hand reached forward, snatching the jewel and paper.
“No—” I cut off, expecting the room to fall down around us. I let out an exasperated sigh when it didn’t.
“It can’t be so dangerous that half the guests die.” Valeris chuckled.
I crowded over his shoulder to read the message. “What does it say?”
“‘You’ve made your way through this whole puzzling ring, go collect your prize. Take the jewel to the king.’”
“And how are we going to do that?”
Valeris frowned, walking back down the tunnel to look at the stone he’d stepped on. “It will open again, but I’m not sure if it will be on time.”
I stared at the stone. “What do you mean?”
“It’s on a timing mechanism. It’s already moved farther up than it was when I first stepped on it. I would guess an hour or less. Once it reaches the top, it should click into place and release the door, but the ball will probably be over by then.” A sour tone entered his voice. “And we’ll lose.”
A slight wave of dizziness passed over me, my shoulder aching. I eased down to the floor, seeking a comfortable position that worked well with my sore abdomen. “Who cares if we win, Valeris. I’m more concerned about getting out of here.”
“I care about winning.”
“Why?” I laughed. “It’s just a stupid game at a ball.”
He sat down across from me. “Maybe for you.”
“Does this have anything to do with your siblings? I heard you whisper Ezrielle’s name when the door locked in the other room.”
He glanced away, avoiding the conversation. “Of sorts. Ezrielle will probably win, and then we’re all doomed.”
“For winning a game?”
He hesitated as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
From the look on his face, I wouldn’t say it was nothing, but he wouldn’t reveal whatever it was.
He looked up at me. “You never had any rivalries with your siblings?”
“Of sorts.” I shrugged, wincing at the sharp pain in my shoulder.
There were many experiences and rivalries I should have had with my siblings, but all of them had been stolen from me. “My brother and I get along well.”
Valeris found that detail amusing, as if it were odd to him. “I haven’t met your brother. You’ll have to point him out and introduce us sometime.”
“Yes,” I sounded distracted. “Sometime.”
I had no intention of giving him any access to my brother.
An awkward lull in the conversation fell between us.
“Have you found him yet?” Valeris asked.
My brow scrunched in confusion. “Found who?”
He peered at me. “The man who murdered your family.”
I swallowed. “Not yet, but I’m close.”
Valeris sighed.
I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?”
“No, but these walls are.”
I rolled my eyes, and he smirked at my irritation.
He scooted closer as if sharing secrets. “Where did you learn the skills you possess?”
My heart hammered in my chest, the question too specific. Did he suspect I was involved with his uncle’s attack? Suspect I was an assassin?
I laughed it off. “Scaling the side of a building isn’t a special skill, considering you did it as well.”
“Barely.” He ignored the jab. “But that was with the ledge. There’s no lip outside of Ezrielle’s rooms, which meant you had nothing but stone to scale, but that’s not all.
You’re cunning and smart, especially in how you think your way through problems. When you sabotaged my alliance with Lord Eyreling, you knew exactly what you were doing.
I also know you placed second in the archery tournament—I bet you could have placed first if you wanted to. ”
He watched me, waiting for a reaction.
He knew.
He had to with the questions he was asking.
I reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh in preparation to defend myself from his attack, but the expression on his face stopped my movement. The questions hit too close, but he displayed more genuine curiosity than suspicion.
I dropped my gaze to my lap, rubbing at the dirt staining my skirt. “I knew if I wanted to take down the man who murdered my family I would need skills. I sought people who knew their craft, and I learned everything I could from them.”
“A noble cause, especially for a plan of vengeance.” His green eyes bore into mine as he leaned closer, his voice lowering. “Have you ever killed anyone, Analleia?”
Little spiders of fear crept up my arms, paralyzing me.
I swore my first kill would be my only kill.
Lessons from the tower ran through my mind, every possible way to end a life, to avoid detection. Everything I hated and yet needed to be.
“No.” I matched the intensity in his gaze. “Not yet.”
We stared at one another, his gaze dropping to my pursed lips as the damp air curled around us.
“Have you?” I turned the question back on him, bringing his gaze back to mine.
He hesitated for a long moment, mulling over his answer before he shook his head no. “Although, I must admit I did want to kill you when we first met.”
Apparently he’d had that inclination on both of our first meetings. First with the chess match and second with my destruction of his alliance with Lord Eyreling.
I shrugged. “You weren’t enough of a bother to want to kill.”
He let out a confused laugh. “You’re strange, Analleia. Has anyone ever told you that?”
My grin went flat, and I poked him in the chest. “And you’re a cocky jerk, but since you’re the prince I have to assume no one has ever told you that.”
He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him until our faces were inches apart. “Oh, trust me—they have. Not directly to my face, but I’ve heard it.”
Our eyes danced over each other, our bodies aware of the proximity. My voice came out a little breathless. “If you know it’s true then why do you continue to be one?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What, a jerk?”
I nodded, our lips hovering over each other, both lost in a spell.
“You didn’t seem to think I was a jerk when we were dancing the other night.”
Heat flooded me, my cheeks warming at the memory of us in the street, his hand in mine, both of us laughing like old friends. The way we were looking at each other now was anything but.
“I prefer the terms far more informed and cunning adversary to cocky jerk.” His voice was barely above a whisper as a hand slipped around my back and pulled me closer.
“Well, that’s a mouthful to say.” My eyes fluttered shut.
“Your dress is covered in blood.”
I jerked back at the comment, the spell breaking.
Valeris pulled me forward again, angling me to the side for a better view.
“Leave it. It’s fine. I’m fine.” I tried to pull away, another wave of dizziness washing over me. Was I lightheaded? I recalled the sharp pain I had felt in my shoulder when he had pulled us through the window. Had I actually cut myself to bleed that much?
“No, it’s not fine.” He pulled down the shoulder of my dress, and I reared back.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ripped the cloth back over my shoulder, wincing as the cloth dragged across the cut.
He sat back and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, would you rather bleed to death in the name of modesty?”
His words seemed to blur, and I became more aware of the pain pulsing down my back and arm. The adrenaline must have masked it.
“I can either help you while you’re conscious or after you pass out.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, warring over what to do even as my thoughts grew fuzzy. He couldn’t find out I had a wound in my abdomen. That must stay secret at all costs.