Chapter Forty
Cadence
The King had ordered his sons to stay behind following the council meeting, and I used the opportunity to slip away without an escort. Eamon had been dismissed, given Ryker had accompanied me, and the brief respite from ever-watchful eyes was a welcome one.
I knew I was goading Ryker’s anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I turned down the nearest hallway, which stretched out before me, seemingly endless. The air was stale and musty, as if nobody had passed through for some time. Portraits of long-dead royals and vengeful gods lined the walls, and I paused to take them in.
My footsteps echoed as I drifted down the passage, studying each portrait. The occasional door creaked somewhere nearby, and laughter filtered through, breaking the otherwise quiet atmosphere.
I found myself lost in the paintings and the stories they must hide.
Running my hand along the wall, I let the cold, smooth stone press against my fingertips.
It was a stark contrast to the coarseness of the canvases.
Countless tiny ridges and divots littered the parchment where the thick strokes of oil paint had dried unevenly.
Each brushstroke had left a subtle trail — raised in places, sunken in others — creating a landscape of texture beneath my fingertips.
So engrossed in the paintings, I didn’t hear the shuffle of feet behind me until it was too late.
The smell of leather filled my nose, and a gloved hand covered my mouth as someone dragged me into the dark alcove.
I struggled to escape my captor’s grip, but my fight died when the sharp tip of a dagger pressed against my lower abdomen.
“You should pay more attention, Lady Cadence.” The voice was low and rough, yet familiar.
I began to turn around to see who held me captive, but stopped when my attacker pushed the blade farther into my stomach.
“That would be unwise,” the man warned.
I stiffened in his hold but didn’t struggle.
“Your father’s patience is running out.”
All the blood drained from my face.
This man was Wraith Borne.
“He wants the information you promised, and he’s done waiting.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that I promised nothing. My father had thrust me back into Ryker’s arms and demanded I betray him under threat of death. Of course, I had no intention of doing that. Though it wasn’t out of loyalty to my husband, I just didn’t like being told what to do.
“I’m waiting,” the man said, the tip of his knife tapping against my belly.
I struggled to organize my thoughts while trying to find something harmless to share that wouldn’t put Ryker or his people at risk. I had no love lost for the Unseelie Council, but there were fae within the kingdom that deserved my protection.
Visions of Malesh and Melania flashed before my eyes, followed by Eamon’s broad grin and Riordan’s knowing smirk.
I couldn’t just turn them over to my father and the Crimson Enclave.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I considered my options. I could lie, feed him something inconsequential that would appease my father. But what would happen when he discovered the deception?
The blade pressed deeper, not enough to break skin, but enough to remind me of my vulnerability.
I tugged on the hand covering my mouth. “If you scream or try to draw attention to yourself, I’ll cut that bastard from your belly without even thinking twice. Do we understand each other?”
Fear coiled tight in my chest, but I managed a sharp nod. Slowly, he withdrew his palm, and my tongue darted out, wetting my lips.
“Well?” the man demanded, his hot breath against my ear.
Knowledge of the rebels seemed like the logical choice. Every kingdom had enemies, so it felt safe enough to share.
“There are rebels working against the Unseelie Crown.”
A low, throaty laugh rumbled against my back, making me freeze.
“Do you think this is a game, little girl? We know about the rebels. Who do you think orchestrated everything?”
Right. The Crimson Enclave had been the prime suspect from the outset. I’d somehow forgotten that in my panic.
I swallowed hard. “Tell my father the council cannot agree on how to handle the rebels. Ryker’s position is weakening. Some councilors are actively working against him.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. They had debated the best course of action, and Fallon was sowing seeds of discord among the members, but Ryker’s authority was far from diminishing.
“You’ve told me nothing I don’t already know,” he growled.
“Your source inside the palace is going to betray you.” The words spilled from my mouth before I could think better of it, piquing his interest.
I had no idea if it was true, but I was betting the traitor sat on the Unseelie Council and wouldn’t risk their neck to save the Crimson Enclave when their own would be on the block beside them.
“Go on.”
“The Unseelie Council knows there’s a traitor in the palace, and they’re using the next shipment as bait.”
My mind raced as I tried to figure out how much to share without compromising my own plans. “They are going to have hidden guards out of sight, and when you attack, they will surround you.”
“What makes you think our contact wouldn’t warn us?”
“Because the Prince suspects someone on the council, the trap is two-fold.”
The blade dug deeper against my stomach, a silent demand for me to continue. “If your source warns you of the ambush, they identify themselves as one of the council.”
“But if they keep quiet and allow us to be caught, then they deflect any suspicion from themselves,” the man surmised.
“Exactly. Regardless of the outcome, it’s a win for the Prince. Either the threat resolves, or he narrows the list of suspects considerably.”
Silence fell between us, and I felt his grip loosen as he considered my words. The dagger, however, remained pressed against my abdomen.
“Your father will be pleased,” he said.
“Why only food stores?” I asked before I could help myself. The question had been nagging at me since the council meeting.
“Because hungry people are careless, more desperate, prone to making mistakes.”
I could hear the cold amusement in his tone, and I recoiled from his touch.
“You have been very helpful, Lady Cadence,” he said, his voice steady but arrogant. “I trust I don’t need to tell you what will happen to you if you are lying, or if you betray our confidence.”
A memory drifted to the surface of my mind, unbidden.
“I say we kill her now and take our chances against the Prince.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. This man had been at the campsite. Eleanor had revealed my pregnancy, and he’d called for my execution.
And my father had chosen him to come threaten me? The implications of that choice made me shiver.
“I’ll be seeing you,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts.
The dagger fell away, and his hold on me vanished. I waited a few seconds before turning, hoping to glimpse his face. But he was gone, and in his place lingered the cold, heavy weight of dread.
Now all I could do was hope I hadn’t put those I cared about in danger.