Chapter 56 Odessa #2
Father’s mouth flattened. “As he is a prince, I will not deliver the same justice as I would anyone else. But he will be exiled from Quentis. Until those arrangements can be made, he’ll be held at the barracks. And once he is banished, you will remain.”
“No, I will not.” I turned away, retreating down the dais’s steps.
Yet another pointless conversation with my father.
“Odessa,” Father barked. “Do not fight me on this. You will do as I say. It’s for your own good.”
I paused, slowly turning back. “Was it you who sent the guards? The one at the stables, whipping that horse. The man at the fountain yesterday, trying to steal my tarkin. Was it your idea to provoke Ransom so this was the outcome? What about the men last night who nearly killed Mae? The men who could have raped us?”
The color drained from his face like I’d slapped him.
So the men last night hadn’t been his doing. But Father had been after the Guardian from the start. These were all feeble excuses to send Ransom back to Turah.
I was nearly across the throne room when he called my name again.
“Odessa.” He stood in the center of the room, his throne empty over his shoulder. “Trust me.”
“No. Never again.”
The barracks in Roslo were located at the city’s farthest edge, tucked against the same stone wall that stretched past the castle. The white building was short and narrow with a brown roof and teal door.
From the outside, it looked barely large enough to house five men, let alone five hundred. But the exterior was simply a facade for the underground network of rooms cut into the rock.
These were the city’s original migration chambers before more had been added beneath the castle.
The rooms were cramped. Beyond the entrance, there were no windows or natural light. It was no wonder most legionnaires chose to live with their families. The only difference between the dormitory rooms and jail cells were doors instead of iron bars.
The guard stationed at the entrance to the cells was five zillahs richer as he gave me a lantern and waved me down the narrow corridor. He didn’t ask which person I was here to visit.
Every cell was empty save the last.
Ransom sat at the far corner, back pressed against a rough stone wall. His knuckles were stained with dried blood and dirt. His silver eyes glowed like the twin moons. His entire body trembled, not from the cold but a simmering rage.
Two of the bars to his cell were caved outward like they’d been kicked hard enough to bend.
How long had he been here? How many men had it taken to put him in this cell?
“There you are.”
“There’s my queen.”
I gripped a bar. “I’ll get you out of here.”
“If I told you to leave, would you listen?”
I set my lantern on the hard stone floor, then took a seat beside it.
Ransom closed his eyes, dragging a hand over his face. “Of all the women in the realm…”
“This one will always find you. Here, or in the shades.”
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. The collar of his shirt was open like it had been torn. Dark-green veins snaked along his collarbones. When he opened his eyes, they were full of regret. “Go, Dess.”
“No, Ranse.” I reached through the bars, holding out my hand. He didn’t move, so I snapped my fingers. “I’m waiting.”
The corner of his mouth turned up as he scooted across the small space to lean against the bars. Then his hand enveloped mine as he brought it to his lips. He dropped his forehead to our clasped hands, his skin feverishly hot. “I’m sorry.”
“I love you.”
“Don’t forget.”
I sighed. “Why don’t you say it back?”
“I do.” He reached through the bars to twist a curl around his little finger. “A thousand times a day.”
He tugged me close, leaning in to kiss the corner of my mouth. He ran the length of his nose against mine. He traced the line of my collarbone, his finger dipping into the hollow of my throat.
A thousand times a day.
Knowing Ransom, this was his way of protecting me. He was still so sure the Lyssa would be his end. That he was saving me pain by preparing me for the inevitable.
He’d still given up hope.
Maybe someday, when we had a cure, when the infection was gone, he’d say those words out loud.
Not that I needed them. Not anymore.
I gave the bars my weight, crossing my legs to get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as I could get on a stone floor. If Ransom was here tonight, then so was I. Except as soon as I relaxed, a sharp sting ran the length of my arm, wrist to elbow, and the zing was so intense my entire body jerked.
“Ouch,” I hissed.
Ransom was on his feet in a blink, his hands balled into fists as he stared down the dark hallway. His jaw clenched as every muscle in his body went taut.
“What?” I followed his gaze, squinting into the shadows.
The sensation of spiders crawling along my skin came a moment before the swish of blue robes.
Brother Skore walked into my lantern’s light and stared down at me from his towering frame.
Ransom slammed a hand against a bar. “Stay away from her.”
I stared up at him, holding the priest’s dark-green eyes. Maybe he was a traitor. Maybe he’d manipulated me in those waterfall caves. Maybe I would regret this decision someday.
Or maybe not.
“Help him. Please. There’s an infection in his blood.”
I had a feeling he already knew that.
Brother Skore lifted a hand, his grooved, clawlike nails pointed on each finger. He closed those endless eyes.
And began siphoning the Lyssa from Ransom’s blood.