Chapter 19
19
CAT
W hen dawn’s light crept through the window, I stirred and was surprised to find Damien's hand still clasped in mine. I sat up and blinked the sleep from my eyes, startled to find him watching over me.
“Did you even sleep?” I asked, attempting to lighten the mood despite the stiffness of my back.
He shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. “No, I stayed awake to be sure you were safe.”
I let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Guard duty? That’s a bit out of character for the notorious Shadow Prince, isn’t it?”
Damien’s expression was unreadable. “I needed to make sure you were safe,” he repeated.
When I stretched my arms, the soreness from my lashing punishment made itself known. “Well, since you’re here, I might as well update you on the drama. It’s better than reality TV.”
Damien raised a brow in confusion. “What happened?”
“It’s Lord Zacharia and Gianna,” I began, my tone turning serious. “The punishment wasn’t just for what happened at the banquet. It goes deeper than that. I think they struck a deal. The whole thing reeks of an inside job.”
His brow furrowed. “A deal? With Gianna?”
I nodded, certain that the pieces were clicking into place.
“Thorne mentioned something,” Damien said, his voice low. “He believes the emperor might be orchestrating this, pushing Zacharia into a corner. He thought your punishment was a power play, more about sending a message. I don’t think it has anything to do with Gianna.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Great, we’re all pawns on a chess board. Any idea what the endgame is?”
Damien shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m looking into it. We need to tread carefully. But honestly, I believe it was to punish you for standing up to Julian.”
“Tread carefully,” I echoed mockingly. “In high heels, no less. Just how I always imagined my espionage adventures.”
He gave a small, appreciative smile at my attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you through this, whatever it takes.”
“Promise?” I asked, only half-joking.
“Promise,” he affirmed.
The room was silent for a moment, the implications of our situation settling around us like the dust motes dancing in the morning light. I could tell it would be a long day.
“You should go.” I squeezed his hand. “Maeve will be arriving any minute now to wash my face and brush my teeth.”
Damien nodded. “I know. I just…”
“I know,” I said. “Oddly enough, I don’t want to part with you, either,” I whispered. It was a strange feeling. Not too long ago, I hated Damien. A small part of me still did because he was keeping me from going home. But another part of me had grown close to him. I didn’t know if it was real, or if it was this damn bond he was always rambling about. Whatever the case was, he was becoming a comfort for me. And that was a dangerous feeling.
Damien stood, his silhouette framed by the pale light streaming through the window. He leaned down until his face was inches from mine, his breath mingling with my own. The tension between us was tangible, a blend of concern, unspoken questions, and a strange, burgeoning connection for which neither of us had planned.
“Take care. I’ll keep watch from afar and come back tonight,” he whispered. His lips brushed mine in a lingering kiss that spoke of promises and uncertainties mingled together. It was gentle yet filled with a desperation that mirrored my own—a silent acknowledgment of the complexities we were entangled in.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, his hand trailing down my arm as he stepped back. He moved to the window and silently slid it open. With one last glance back at me, his expression filled with resolve and regret, he was gone, disappearing like a shadow.
Moments later, there was a cautious knock at the door. “My lady?” Maeve’s voice filtered through, tentative and respectful.
“Come in!” I called out, quickly composing myself by smoothing my hair back, as if that could hide my inner turmoil.
Maeve entered carrying a basin of water and wearing a concerned look. “I brought some warm water for you to wash up.” She placed the basin on a nearby table and eyed me closely.
“Thank you, Maeve,” I managed to say, my voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind Damien’s visit had enacted.
As she busied herself laying out towels and a fresh change of clothes, I caught my reflection in the mirror. There was a slight flush to my cheeks, a brightness in my eyes that hadn’t been there before. Whatever was happening, whatever feelings were brewing beneath the surface, they were as real as the danger we were navigating.
And as Maeve turned back to assist me, her usual fussing tinged with motherly concern, I knew I had to lock away those emotions. For now, survival came first, both mine and those entangled in this mess alongside me.
When she noticed my opened window, Maeve frowned. “My lady, did you sleep with the window open all night? You must have been freezing!” She hurried to close it.
I rubbed my hands together, knowing damn well I was as warm as a furnace. “I must have forgotten to close it after getting some air last night,” I lied smoothly, hoping she’d buy it. Maeve’s maternal instincts were both a blessing and a curse—wonderful for feeling cared for, but not so great for sneaking around.
Maeve clicked her tongue with worried disapproval as she secured the window lock before turning back to me. “You must be careful, my lady. The nights are still chilly, and we wouldn’t want you catching a cold, especially while you’re still recuperating,” she admonished gently, her eyes scanning me for any sign of discomfort.
“I’ll be more careful,” I promised, offering a weak smile. She nodded, satisfied for the time being, and helped me with my morning routine. The warm water was soothing, and I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the simple comfort it provided.
“Is there anything specific you’d like for breakfast?” Maeve asked as she wrung out a cloth and handed it to me.
“Something light,” I responded, my mind still racing from the events and conversations of the morning. Food was the last thing on my mind, but I knew I needed to keep up appearances—and my strength.
As I dabbed at my face with the cloth, cleaning away the remnants of sleep, I mulled over Damien’s words. Each thought was a piece in a perilous puzzle I was somehow supposed to solve. And as Maeve continued her fussing, arranging my hair and making sure I looked presentable, I knew that no matter how complex or dangerous the game, I had to play it smart.
For now, survival meant playing the part of Arya Ryder perfectly, even if every fiber of my being rebelled against the constraints of her world. But underneath, my resolve hardened; I’d find a way through this – for Jacob, for Maeve, and maybe for myself, too.
I was grounded.
God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been grounded. I think I was still in high school. I didn’t know why Maeve got me all dolled up just to stay in my room. I could have stayed in my jammies and been far more comfortable.
There was a knock on my door and before I could tell the person to come in, Maeve entered with Garrick trailing behind her.
“My lady,” she whispered. “Garrick is here to check on you.”
I nodded and waved them in.
Maeve quickly shut the door and Garrick strolled to where I sat on the bed, then kneeled beside me. He took ahold of my wrist and pressed three fingertips on my pulse.
I waited with bated breath until he spoke. “Seems like you’re healing well, my lady.” With a grin, he released my hand and stood. “How are you feeling?”
I stretched. “A little stiff and achy, but overall fine.”
“That’s normal. The stiffness should go away in a couple days,” he said. Maeve brought over a chair for him and he sat down. “I didn’t just come to check on you, my lady. I also came because there’s been… talk .”
I furrowed my brows. “Talk? About what?”
“The Shadow Prince and this mysterious Dragon Rider.” He eyed me knowingly. “I, uh… know you’re friendly with the third prince…”
I chuckled. “So you think people are going to assume it’s me?” I raised a questioning brow.
Garrick nodded. “It’s bad enough that the vampires are in an uproar due to the black market being burned down, but—”
“Wait!” I straightened. “The whole black market burned down?” I clarified.
“Aye. It started in one section and the fire spread,” he said. “They couldn’t control the flames.”
My eyes widened. Does Damien know this? “Did anyone get hurt?” I asked nervously.
“A couple people came away with minor injuries, but luckily no one died. However, the vampires took their case to the emperor, blaming it on the Shadow Prince and his Dragon Rider,” Garrick revealed. “It doesn’t bode well for you, my lady.”
How was this possible? We were so careful about containing the fire to just the underground ring, and people were already coming out to extinguish the fire before we even finished! But worse than that, if the emperor learned that Damien had taken to leaving Obsidian Reach on his own, he’d discover the truth much faster.
My stomach dropped. Damien was here , on these grounds, watching over me even now. I needed to let him know what was going on.
“Garrick, I need another favor.” I leaned forward. The urgency in my voice must have communicated my panic, because Garrick’s brows drew together in concern.
“What is it, my lady?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Can you find Damien? He’s lurking outside these grounds, keeping watch,” I hurriedly explained. “Tell him what you just told me. He needs to get back to Obsidian Reach before the emperor finds out he’s escaped his exile.”
Garrick hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure he’s here? That’s quite risky of him.”
I nodded emphatically. “I saw him last night. He’s here, Garrick. Please, he needs to know.” I peered over at Maeve, who speared me with a disapproving look.
Garrick stood, nodding as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ll find him, my lady. But you must be careful. If the emperor gets wind that you’re involved with the prince—”
“I know, I know,” I cut him off, feeling the weight of the potential consequences. “Just please hurry.”
With a curt nod, Garrick quickly left the room with Maeve and their footsteps soon faded down the hall. Seconds later, trumpets blared from somewhere within the Ryder compound. Stunned, I peered outside my room and saw pure chaos outside, with dozens of servants and guards running toward the entrance with fear etched on their faces.
I grabbed the first servant who crossed my path. “What’s going on? Why is everyone freaking out?”
She gulped and shrieked, “The emperor is here!” Pulling out of my grasp, she darted toward the front entrance with the rest of the crowd.
I was stricken by fear for a multitude of reasons. First, Garrick was still close by, and he and the emperor had bad blood. If he and the emperor crossed paths, I wasn’t sure how either of them would react. Second, Damien was around here somewhere. If his father caught him, it would be the end of everything. I felt sick to my stomach with worry.
I hesitated, clutching the doorframe as the clamor outside swelled into a frenzy. My heart raced, not just from the pain that still echoed in my muscles, but from the dread of what the emperor's unexpected visit might entail. In the midst of my panic, Jacob appeared at my door, his face grim but composed.
“Come, Arya,” he said firmly, his voice laced with concern. “We must present ourselves. The emperor will expect the entire household to greet him.”
With a stiff nod, I forced my legs to carry me despite the searing reminders of my recent punishment. Jacob offered his arm for support, and I leaned on him more than I cared to admit as we steadily approached the entrance of the Ryder residence. The corridor seemed to stretch on interminably, each step a test of endurance. This was the most I had moved since Garrick healed me, and my body felt the effects.
With each step toward the entrance, the sound of the emperor's entourage grew louder. The front doors swung open with a flourish, revealing the emperor in all his regal bearing. His cloak, embroidered with the golden dragons of Elaria, flowed behind him as he descended from his carriage with an air of undisputed authority. The seer, his constant shadow, was a step behind, the hood of his heather gray cloak covering most of his face except for his mouth and chin.
Everyone bowed deeply as the emperor and his entourage strode into the residence. The significance of his presence was unmistakable as his cold gaze swept over each of us as sharp as a blade.
“Rise!” he commanded in a booming voice.
Reluctantly, we straightened, our bodies tense as the emperor strode towards the courtyard with deliberate steps. The seer whispered in his ear, pointing at various elements of the garden, but the emperor's eyes were drawn to the blooms that decorated the space. His admiration, however, carried an undercurrent of threat, as if each flower was subject to his scrutiny.
I feigned a stumble, catching myself on Jacob’s arm. He glanced at me, concern etching his features. “Just hold on a little longer,” he murmured so only I could hear. I had to pretend to be weak. They couldn’t know I was healed by a warlock and not a normal healer.
Lord Zacharia, Gianna, Jacob, and I lined up as the emperor paused before a particularly vibrant cluster of flowers. He lightly touched a pale pink petal, his expression unreadable.
“These are exquisite,” he commented, but the compliment sounded more like a verdict. “It would be a shame if anything were to... mar their beauty.”
The veiled threat hung in the air, the words a clear message that his scrutiny wasn't limited to the flora. Everyone around me tensed as the unspoken implications of his words became crystal clear: The Ryder family was under his watchful eye, and not even the beauty of their gardens could shield them from potential ruin.
I clenched my jaw, frustrated that the pretense of weakness was a necessary guise. Underneath, anger simmered—anger at being used as a pawn and fury at the looming presence of a tyrant who could disrupt our lives with a simple command. But for now, I outwardly remained the dutiful daughter with my head bowed, a silent observer to the power plays that unfolded before me.
Lord Zacharia cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
Emperor Valenor peered over his shoulder, keeping his back to us. “Do I need a reason to come see you? Am I not allowed in your home, Zacharia?”
Lord Zacharia choked on his own spit. “Of course you are, Your Majesty! That’s not what I meant,” he quickly said. “It’s just, you rarely leave Dragon Valley, and…” he trailed off.
The emperor chuckled. “That is true. The two-hour ride into the districts is long and tiring. I don’t often make the trip, but I decided to come see for myself how Lady Arya is doing after the horrific ordeal I heard she endured the other day.” He smirked and snapped the stem of a flower in half. “I see she’s still not well.”
“It’ll take her a while to heal, Your Majesty,” Jacob spoke as he partially supported my weight. “But she has learned her lesson and knows what she can and cannot do, we can assure you.”
“Hmm.” The emperor turned to his seer. “What do you think, Malachar? Has Lady Arya learned her lesson?”
The seer offered a small bow. “I believe she has, Your Majesty.”
The emperor snorted. “You’re no fun, Malachar.”
The seer tilted his head in my direction as if assessing my frailty before nodding slowly in agreement with his own statement. Meanwhile, the emperor turned back to face us fully, his gaze piercing when it settled on me. His smile was thin, almost predatory as he stepped closer.
“I should hope so,” Emperor Valenor continued, his voice low and carrying a sharp edge. “The Ryder family holds a delicate position within the court. It would be most... unfortunate if that balance were disturbed by the reckless behavior of youth.”
Jacob's grip tightened around my waist, lending support without words. Lord Zacharia, however, seemed to wither under the emperor's gaze. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple despite the coolness of the shade under which we stood.
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Lord Zacharia managed to say. “We are deeply grateful for your concern and your visit. It reaffirms your benevolence towards our family.”
“Benevolence,” the emperor echoed almost mockingly as he glanced around the courtyard. “Yes, let us call it that. But remember, Lord Zacharia, my goodwill should not be tested. Nor should my patience.” He paused, his eyes briefly closing as if savoring the tension his words had woven through the air. When he opened them again, they were fixed on me, his stare unsettlingly intense. “And you, Lady Arya,” he said, his tone deceptively soft, “I trust you will begin to show the decorum and restraint befitting a lady of your standing?”
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I nodded and whispered, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent,” he replied with a nod. “Because next time, this won't be a friendly visit. It might require... harsher measures.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Lord Zacharia bowed deeply. “We understand.”
“Now tell me, Lady Gianna, you’re not still seeing my son, are you?” the emperor asked with a knowing look.
Gianna’s eyes widened in shock and she quickly shook her head. “No, of course not, Your Majesty.”
“Odd.” The emperor frowned and stepped toward us. “A little birdie told me he was still fooling around with the daughter of Lord Zacharia and, well…” Emperor Valenor inhaled deeply. “I smell him in your residence.”
Fuck .
I tensed and wondered how the hell the emperor knew his scent since he never visited Damien.
Lord Zacharia’s face visibly paled as his gaze flitted between Gianna and the emperor, searching for the right words. “Your Majesty, I assure you, there's been no recent contact with Prince Damien. Our family respects your decree.”
The emperor studied him for a long, tense moment, his lips curled into a faint, unsettling smile. “See that it remains so, Lord Zacharia. My decrees are not suggestions.” His gaze swept across us once more, lingering pointedly on me before he turned away. As the emperor slowly paced back toward his carriage, he paused and speared the Ryder family gathered in the courtyard with one last penetrating look. “It’s peculiar, really,” Emperor Valenor mused aloud, the silken tone of his voice belying the steel underneath. “The air here... it smells faintly of treason. As if someone not only disregards my decrees, but mocks them.”
Lord Zacharia stiffened, his voice barely concealing his panic. “Your Majesty, we remain ever loyal to your command.”
“Do you, Zacharia?” The emperor’s gaze swept over us, stopping to linger on me. “Because if I find that certain ties are more than familial... if they are, shall we say, rebelliously entwined with my exiled son, then the consequences would be... educational for all involved.”
His words hung like a guillotine over us, and with a final, scrutinizing glance, he turned and made his way to his carriage, gliding up the short stairs and settling inside the cushioned exterior. The footman closed the carriage door. His seer, Malachar, started to follow his master, then paused and turned back to the Ryders with a thoughtful look.
“Lady Arya,” Malachar called out, his tone commanding yet strangely gentle. “Might I have a word with you in private?”
Everyone’s eyes turned to me, a collective breath held. Lord Zacharia gave a slight nod, offering his tacit permission, though his eyes were filled with cautious curiosity.
As the emperor’s carriage rolled away, I approached the seer, feeling the ominous bulk of his hidden gaze as if it was trying to peel back the layers of my soul. The family and all their servants left to give us privacy. “What is it you wish to speak about?” I asked, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.
Malachar smiled, a small, enigmatic curve of his lips. “It’s about the emperor’s concerns... and perhaps how you, my lady, might assure him of the Ryder family’s loyalty. But also, how you might protect yourself from forthcoming dangers. It seems you are at a crossroads, and the path you choose may well determine much more than your own fate.”
His cryptic words sent a chill down my spine. Whatever game was afoot, it was one that danced dangerously close to the flames, and I was seemingly right in the middle of it.
“I told you to return…” he finally said. “Why didn’t you?”
My heart pounded so hard, I thought it would burst at any moment. “An unexpected obstacle stood in my way,” I murmured, not wanting to admit that Damien had stopped me.
“I see,” he whispered. “Well… don’t let this obstacle cause the destruction of Lady Arya’s family.”
I gulped. “What do you suggest?”
“Cut all ties, my lady. Your future is riddled with pain and suffering if you continue down this path.”
My stomach dropped. Fuck . “And if I don’t? What will you do?”
The seer shrugged. “I’ll do what I must. For the emperor and for the future of Elaria.”
“The emperor is a tyrant,” I admitted, knowing damn well that statement could get me killed.
Malachar only smirked. “You are young, my lady. Sometimes there are worse things lurking in the shadows than tyrants.”
Did he mean Damien? I couldn’t imagine Damien being worse than the emperor.
I narrowed my gaze and stepped toward him. Malachar stayed still, unmoving. “You know, don’t you?” I whispered.
He nodded.
I sucked in a breath. “He doesn’t want the throne,” I murmured. “What you fear—”
Malachar shook his head. “You’re wrong, my lady. Sometimes we don’t get what we want. Sometimes what’s destined for us will come true whether we like it or not.”
My eyes widened as I realized what he was saying. Whether Damien wanted the throne or not didn’t matter. If anyone learned about the twin flame mark, he would be forced to take the throne regardless.
Malachar's posture slightly shifted, a deliberate motion that seemed to carry the weight of a significant decision. The air around us thickened with anticipation. Slowly, he reached up with a thin, pale hand, the fingers unnaturally long and ending in tapered, well-kept nails. With a careful movement, he pulled back the hood that had forever concealed his identity from the world.
The face that emerged was a stark revelation that sharply contrasted with the enigmatic presence he had always maintained. His skin was pallid, almost translucent, stretched taut over high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that gave him an ethereal, otherworldly appearance. His hair was a shock of white, flowing back from his forehead in a mane that framed his face with ghostly grace.
But it was his eyes that held me frozen—milky white, with no discernible iris or pupil, blind yet seemingly piercing. They seemed to flicker with an inner light, as if reflecting some unseen flame. Despite their blindness, they conveyed a fathomless depth of knowledge and penetrating insight.
“You see now, my lady.” Malachar's voice was soft, yet it carried an edge that hinted at steel. “The world is not always as it appears. And neither are those who maneuver within it.”
“I choose to believe otherwise.”
Malachar's eyes held a depth of secrets that felt as old as the land itself. “The path of destiny is often wrought with thorns,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And those thorns can pierce even the most guarded heart.”
I frowned, digesting his words as both foreboding and resolve knitted together within me. “What if I choose to stand and fight?” I asked defiantly.
Malachar regarded me with a measured gaze, as if recalculating my worth or perhaps reassessing his initial judgment of me. “Then, my lady,” he began, his voice steady, “you must be prepared for the battles ahead, not just with swords and sorcery, but within the halls of power and the chambers of your own heart.”
He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. “Remember, power seeks power. The emperor's interest in you and this family isn't casual. It’s calculated. Be wary of whom you trust.” With those parting words, he gave a shallow bow and pulled the hood back over his head. When he turned to leave, his cloak swirled around him, blending with the shadows that crept across the courtyard as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
Left alone with the seer’s warnings echoing in my mind, I sensed the weight of an impending storm brewing on the horizon of my life in Elaria. The choices I made in the coming days would shape not just my fate, but potentially the future of this realm.
Drawing a deep breath, I squared my shoulders, resolved to face whatever came with my eyes wide open and allies carefully chosen. The game of thrones I had unwittingly become a part of would demand no less.