Chapter 42 Kieran
Kieran
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The cool stone presses against my back as I try—and fail—to shift my body out of the path of that damned water droplet falling onto my left shoulder.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Every two seconds another splash—another reminder that I’m chained to the wall, left to rot for the crime of rising above my station, of reaching for what I’ve always wanted.
What I’ll never have.
It was reckless of me to return to Fairbright Palace.
I should have known this would end in chains, the woman I can’t seem to let go of abandoning me once again.
Because even though she promised to get me out of this mess, even though I want to believe her, there’s a part of me that knows she’ll choose the crown over me.
There’s never been a place where I fit in her life. We’re two mismatched pieces, incompatible despite every desperate attempt to force us together. It was never going to work, and now I’m going to die for it.
Leaving behind everyone who depends on me to fall once more into the decay of a kingdom that doesn’t give a damn whether they live or die—so long as they strip enough helachite from the earth to fuel its wealth.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I try shifting again, the irons biting into my wrists until pain radiates up my arms. My body slips against the wet stone, and I barely catch myself. With how tightly they secured me, there’s no give. If I fall, I’ll hang by my own weight.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I think of what must come next. Surely, even now, I’ll still be allowed a fair trial. That’s written into the bedrock of Naseria, even if its queen rules like a tyrant.
But if I’m not granted that right, then this entire country is a facade, and Gen will never sit on the throne. Her mother will steal that future away from her, just as she’s stolen every other choice Gen has ever had.
A scrape of metal at my door. A lock clanks.
Hinges groan as guards rush in. They grab me in a muddled tangle of arms, and I jerk back, unsure where they’re taking me.
I land a hard kick on one of them; he retaliates with a blow to my stomach.
My breath escapes me in a hiss, stars clouding my vision.
But I don’t stop fighting, not knowing where they might take me if I give in.
“Stand down if you know what’s good for you,” one snarls. A blade is drawn to my throat, nicking through my skin until a well of blue blood surfaces.
“He’s a fucking blueblood!” the guard shouts.
“You idiot—of course he is. He’s in here for misuse of helachite. I heard he caused the rot in Crawford. Wasn’t seen there until he arrived.”
They wrench my chains tighter, another fist connecting with my ribs. I manage to grind out, “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ve had a special request. We’re to bring you up—but no one said what condition you needed to be in. If you want to do this the hard way, we’ll be sure to bring you roughed up.”
“Who?” It must be Penelope. I’ve been waiting for her to call for me—to rip me apart, to tell me exactly what she thinks of me: a gardener’s son, a nobody who dared believe himself worthy of her daughter, of her kingdom.
I’ve seen it in her eyes with every interaction we’ve had these past weeks.
The suspicion was there, and I wondered if she could see past the changes in my face to the boy I once was.
But I doubted her; she’s never been the type to look closely at a person.
And I did my best to keep her gaze off me.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the man sneers with a grin, and his comrade drives the back of his sword into my spine, a hard crunch of metal against flesh.
They drag me through darkened corridors, lit only by waning oil lamps, until I’m shoved into a tight room.
Leland stands with his back to the door and turns slowly, a grave look on his face.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” I say, the disappointment in my tone all too clear.
He nods and gestures toward a small wooden table with two rough chairs. “Leave us,” Leland orders the guards.
“Your Highness, we have our orders.”
His face tightens into hard lines I’ve never seen on my old friend. “He is a friend of the crown of Icelantica, and we will not be threatened by you.”
The guards bow their heads and close the wooden door behind us.
“Well, at least you’re in one piece,” Leland remarks.
“Where is Gen? Is she alright?”
Leland gives a curt nod. “She’s being monitored closely. We both agreed it was best for me to see you.”
I nod, knowing Leland would never harm Gen or put her in danger.
His voice sharpens. “You came here knowing you wanted her back, didn’t you?”
My defenses rise, but this man—this friend—may be the only one who can save me. And I betrayed him in the most egregious way possible.
So I tell him the truth.
“I came here wanting to ruin her. I’ve wanted my revenge for so long, but it was ill placed. It wasn’t her I wanted revenge on.”
Leland glances at the chains on my wrists. “Queen Penelope, is it? Yes, well, you played your cards poorly, old friend. Do you still love her?”
“I—” The words stick in my throat. I don’t want to admit this to him. I can’t show weakness now, and what is my love for Gen but my greatest weakness?
“Yes, you do. It’s been evident for some time. For a man who’s hidden so much of his past, you do a poor job hiding your feelings for her.”
I huff out a breath. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Then why encourage our engagement? If not to harm me in the process?”
I turn from his harsh gaze, those Frostclaw eyes cutting straight through me. I don’t have an answer—because part of me has always known this was my chance to return to Gen. Sure, I hoped to hurt her in the process, but instead I’ve damaged one of my closest friendships.
“What’s next?” I ask. “Will Penelope bother with a trial, or go straight to placing my head on a spike?”
“There’s a trial set for two days’ time. Execution scheduled for three. Then Queen Penelope expects Princess Genevieve and me to marry in five.”
So that’s how it will be. I’ll be dead and out of the way in time for the happy nuptials. I think of Gen—how she won’t be able to control her gift, or Leland’s—and a vicious urge flares in me. I want to hurt him, to drag him down with me for even considering touching her again.
“You’re going through with the wedding?” I seethe. “Even with her gift?”
He shakes his head sharply. “Of course not. The queen is mad to think I’d bind myself to Genevieve after knowing what her curse does to both of us.
Our gifts are incompatible. I make her lose her ability to reason, and she turns me into something I’m not—something I could never tolerate in myself. It would be disastrous.”
“When do you plan to tell the queen?”
“You must truly love her if your questions are all about her and not your impending trial and execution.” He exhales.
“I’ve hired a team of lawyers—billed to Blackwell Industries, naturally.
They’ll meet you in the morning to prepare your case and gather evidence to clear your name.
Is there anything you can give me now to pass along to Genevieve?
She’s desperate to help your case and see you freed. ”
I think of the rot spreading, the servant’s death. “Someone is misusing helachite in the palace. Find them and you’ll have your answers. As for kidnapping Gen—you can attest to what really happened.”
His jaw clenches. “My word has already been questioned. Servants claim you forced her into the carriage while I stood by. Some think we were working together. And Queen Penelope has threatened to use the accusation against me if I refuse to marry Genevieve.”
“And what does Queen Kalise say to that? I can’t imagine she tolerates her devoted brother being threatened by another monarch.”
He looks away before sighing. “There’s something Kalise isn’t telling me.
I think Penelope is holding some knowledge over her.
I already signed the marriage contract and expected to be engaged to Princess Astoria or Princess Marielle.
It wasn’t ideal, but I was the one who added that clause.
But instead my sister keeps insisting she must marry Prince Gabriel. ”
I mull that over. Penelope will do whatever it takes to get what she wants. But why is she so intent on joining the two countries when, for all intents and purposes, it appears she won’t relinquish power when the time comes anyway?
It doesn’t matter right now if I can’t get free. Leland’s right—my thoughts went first to Gen’s safety. But I need to know my chances.
“Are the lawyers good?”
Leland gives me a long-suffering look. “Do you think I’d choose anyone second-rate? They’re the best in Naseria. But there’s little time to prepare. The queen ensured it.”
A knock on the door. The guards step in.
“Time’s up.”
I don’t fight. Not now—not when I finally know there are people on my side, people willing to fight for me even after everything I’ve done to them. It’s a strange feeling, almost foreign after clawing my way out of the mines alone.
“Tell Gen to be careful,” I say. “Tell her not to do anything that could put her safety at risk. I’ll see her soon.”
The guards drag me from the room as Leland promises he will. I should have told him to say more, but speaking the words aloud feels too much like goodbye.