Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
MORGANA
T he shadows haunted me.
I felt a pull to them, nevertheless. It was like the sweetest kiss across my cheek, a whispering promise that suffering was fleeting. That pain, despite its vicious talon hooking into me, was a fathomable thing. In fact, it was so fathomable that when I came to, I wept.
There was not a sound to be heard around me. My fingertips tingled and the ringing in my ears buzzed, but I was in utter silence. When my eyes finally opened, I saw nothing but stark darkness overhead. With each blink, I accepted that this was the sort of empty nothingness that would cower in the face of light. So I sat up in search of any inkling of resolve. The butt of my palms pressed into the cold, slippery stone as I pulled myself forward. The darkness was this ominous beast crawling alongside me, and if I were any less sane, I could have sworn I heard the shadows hissing at me to break.
I squeezed my eyes shut and hastened my crawl, unable to bring myself to stand as terror crushed me. My head collided into something hard, and I howled out in pain. I lifted a hand and touched the top of my forehead, something sticky, warm, and wet on my fingers. When my hand latched around the thing in front of me, bits of rust chipped onto my fingertips and stabbed into the thick skin.
I was in a cell.
I reached above my head and grabbed onto the horizontal bar, using that to leverage myself up on my feet. I wobbled, but with my weight leaned against the corroded metal, I was able to stay upright.
Faced with more darkness, my lip quivered. I couldn’t escape it—there were no candles, no oil lanterns, nothing. I was trapped. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at the darkness with no wits or desire to find a way free, but when a squeaky door down the corridor creaked open, light bled onto the floor.
I blinked, my eyes chasing after the light as it was swallowed back into darkness. Footsteps echoed closer, closer, closer.
Two feet. No more, no less.
I blinked again. Without light, I couldn’t see further than my arm’s reach, but I heard the silhouette of a stranger stop directly in front of my cell. I licked my dry lips, eyes so wide that the skin started twitching. This wasn’t a prison—not one fit for ordinary people. This was a torture cell.
“Who are you?” I rasped. “What am I doing here?”
They answered with silence. I gulped, the sounds of their shoes scraping against the stone forcing my ears to perk. Cool leather brushed my pinky as their hands grabbed hold of the bars on either side of my hands, and only when his body was all but flush against the barrier did I see the essence of his face.
Those eyes, however, glistened in the dark like a predator. Hints of crimson tucked beneath impossible shadows.
“Hello. I told you I’d come for you. Though, I had hoped it’d be under better circumstances.”
My blood ran cold, gooseflesh enveloping every inch of my exposed skin like a bad omen. I yanked my hands from the bars, bits of rust digging into my skin as I stumbled back. A low, raspy chuckle resounded in his chest, and his forehead pressed against the cell.
“Afraid of the dark, little dove?” Aster drawled with a wicked curl of his tongue.
“Stop calling me that.”
“I shall try…”
There was a certain vibrato to his tone—the wavering essence of mischief that illuminated the shadows. I was at a loss on what to do, or where to go, but when the leather of his gloves creaked with each movement of his hand, the air got caught in my throat. I anticipated those shadows to bleed off him like they did when he interrogated Lord DeBurne, but the strike of a match cast beautiful, warm light across the corridor. My eyes drifted from the ground to his face, the shadows and flame dancing across his stark features in the motions of wretched beauty. His jaw was lined with stubble, those glistening irises fixated on me like a cat to its mouse.
This time, when he leaned against the cell door, he did so lackadaisically, his head pressed against the rusty metal and a grin pulled at his lips. His hand lifted to point at his forehead, the single lantern’s light casting an orange hue against the shiny material.
“You’ve got a little blood on your forehead, Lady Tillington. ”
Oh, hells. I sucked in a breath, and despite my heart screaming at me to back away, I pressed forward. Closer to the monstrous man until I could smell him. Warm, evergreen leaves mixed with firewood smoke that almost put me at ease. Almost.
“Oh. Right. That wasn’t your real name, was it?” he continued, pressing his face between the bars as if they would give way. My lips parted, and I shook my head slowly. “A virtuous woman after all. I understand your fear of intimacy, little dove. Truly. Names are formidable things.” He paused, whistling out in faux-agony. “It may be wise to keep such tender secrets. I cannot promise I will keep it off my bitter tongue.”
A scowl pulled on my mouth, and it took everything in me not to lash out at him. This was my captor though—and he was far more dangerous than my claws could fight against. “What do you plan to do with me and my intimate secrets, Aster? Something tells me you use all the information you can dig up to force people into submission.”
“I only wish you to submit if that is your desire.” A pause, then that cruel smirk returned. “ Is that what you desire, Miss Kyllingham ?”
I spat at him. My drool landed between his brows, dribbling down the entirety of his nose before he moved to swipe it off. That smirk never broke, and neither did his eye contact.
“If you wish to rot in this cell, Miss Kyllingham, please… go ahead. But I do not intend to set my flightless dove free— yet. ”
Yet. The silent threat behind his words sent a shudder down my spine. I considered the rest of my days stuck in this cell. Would I get accustomed to darkness, or would it slowly turn me insane? Would I be lost to my own devices? Surely, that would be a sweeter fate than whatever alternative he had in mind.
“Do you think I’d choose anything else?” I muttered beneath my breath. “I told you the other night, Aster. I’ll never help you.”
He remained quiet for a long while. The hand still holding the cell tightened, the crinkling leather filling the absolute silence. “You dare defy the possibility of understanding what’s happened to your heart?”
“My heart? You speak of my heart?” I said, stammering on my words as I slithered closer. I wrapped my fingers around the bars and leaned in so our breaths were shared, so I could look nowhere else but those impossible eyes. “Nothing has become of my heart. I am of no use to you.”
The heat of his gaze was red hot against my skin as he regarded each of my features—from my hardened glare down to the curve of my frown. He hummed, as if he were pleased. “I think you will be the most useful tool in my collection, Morgana. ”
My breath hitched. The thunderous beats of my heart threatened to shatter the bone in my chest. This man knew me—my true name—which meant he knew everything else about me. In fact, not only did he know my name, but it was like a tease off his tongue. I leaned even closer, our noses all but touching, as I whispered one final promise to him.
As if it would be the last one I made.
“Listen closely, for this I vow. I will never help you. I will not be your pawn, nor will I accept the shadows that plague you. I do not know who you truly are and I do not care to.”
Aster blinked at me. His smirk faltered, and for a moment I saw anger flash across his eyes. He took a half-step back, and fear struck me in the chest at truly being abandoned in this place.
“You’d abandon your brother like that?” he asked. “Or have you already abandoned him?”
Tears welled in my eyes. I shook my head, shaking the loose bars as if I were strong enough to break them. “You know nothing of my brother?—”
“I know that he was in the Umbran Guard, and that you both appeared on Verdantis’ public record for the first time roughly fifteen years ago.” Aster lunged forward, his gloved hand wrapping around mine and his head pressed against the bars once more. “I know that you put a plea in the papers for his return, as if he were kidnapped or lost.”
I tried to lurch backward, but he had a hold of me now. I feared the shadows, the evil that bled off him. When I blinked, he vanished into starry mist. I choked on a sob and spun around, over and over until I caught sight of his silhouette in the corner of my cell.
I sprinted at him, equipped with nothing but rage and desperation to find a way free. Again, he turned to mist, and I smashed into the wall. I howled out, the tip of my nose cracking and blood gushing out.
“I understand that not five weeks after his disappearance did you join the Umbran Guard yourself. Who did you have to pay, little dove? Truly, I’d love to know. I need to make sure they suffer for permitting another Kyllingham into service.”
This time, I slowly turned toward his voice and pinched a finger over my nose. “How dare you,” I hissed. “You have no right.”
“I have no right?” he said, cackling. When I blinked, he traversed through the shadows like wind in a thunderstorm, appearing before me and grabbing my wrist to pull it from my nose. With his other, he grabbed the back of my neck and forced my head up to look him in the eyes. The blood dripped down my throat, the sickening metallic taste choking out of me in bitter coughs. “ You have no right, attacking my arcanists as if they were as easy to find as sand on the beach. Tell me, Morgana, did you expect to escape town and find a new name?”
His arcanists? I tried to swallow past the blood, but it made my gut twist into a thousand knots. Nausea overwhelmed me, and my face contorted as I tried not to gag. He leaned closer, evidently unfazed by my distress.
“But you’re just as rare as the rest of them. Rarer, if you ask me.” His breath was hot against my cheek as his nose ghosted the skin. “Your shadows fought for you, did they not?”
“ Fuck you?—”
“Gladly, little dove. I do prefer my women less bloodied though.” With that, he let go of me and my knees gave way, collapsing onto the ground. He took a few steps back. I clutched onto my nose again and squeezed my eyes shut to focus on anything but the taste. “So I will ask you one final time. And do not test my patience. I will leave you here to rot.”
I lifted my gaze to his slowly, my entire body trembling beneath his wrath. Despite it all—the venom lacing his words, the violence of his touch—his stare was gentle in the cruelest way. He kneeled, as to not tower over me, and frowned.
“Are you prepared to abandon Galen Kyllingham?”
“You do not know him?—”
“Oh, but I do.” This is where he smiled again. “Not only do I know him, but I know where his lost soul resides.”
My eyes widened, and for a moment the blood dribbling down my throat was no worse than a minor nuisance. He didn’t break my gaze, nor did he move to strike at me once more. He merely waited, kneeled over me with a disgusting frown etched into his smooth face.
For the past five years, I’d clawed for answers. I fought against the rumors that he perished in a terrible accident beyond Vespera’s borders. I struggled, lied, and killed for the mere possibility of finding a way back to him. Yet, here Aster was, claiming he knew where he was?
“Who are you?” I hissed. “And what do you… what do you want?”
Aster cocked his head, standing slowly and offering a hand down to me. “I want you to help me with Lord DeBurne’s family, as formerly agreed. Then you will help me uncover the truth behind what plagues me.” His hand outstretched toward me, gloved fingers waggling as if he hadn’t just put his hands on me. As if it were an innocent gesture. “Do we have a deal?”
I stared at it. My mind wandered to Siren and whether he could help me out of this. I needed out of this cell if I wanted that chance—a way to send word to him and make a plan. He’d abandoned me at the ball, but he’d never failed me prior. I had to try.
And perhaps if Aster was halfway as truthful as he was menacing, then I’d get a few answers behind Galen’s disappearance. I lifted my unbloodied hand and accepted his hand, his fingers delicately wrapping around mine like I was more fragile than glass. He pulled me to my feet.
“My name is Aster Sinclair, crown prince of Verdantis.”
My face paled, and the silence started to ring in my ear. The entire royal family was all but faceless figureheads—but the king’s children were a different type of secret. No one had seen them.
For a long while, the Ton’s gossip reached the saloons. Before long, the entire kingdom nation believed the king’s children didn’t exist.
“And you… a flightless dove?” I hated the name. I wanted to tear his tongue out for it. Yet, despite my anger, his hand gently squeezed mine—a call of desperation, of devotion, of danger . “You may have the answers I seek.”