Chapter 14 #3
He stopped in his tracks, and I slammed into him from behind. His free arm shot out to catch me as I stumbled backward. When he locked eyes with me, his touch was so gentle it sent a shiver down my spine. “Did you just call me handsome?”
“I’m pretty sure I was talking about Eiran.”
“I don’t think you were.” He licked his lips again, and although he seemed to be absently doing the move, it was utterly infuriating. “It’s okay if you think I’m handsome.”
“I also think you’re an ass, but you’re really clinging to the handsome thing, aren’t you?”
“I am.” The smile in his voice made me step forward mindlessly.
“Is this where you were taking me?” I tried to steady my breathing, but it was no use; he could hear every hitch in my breath.
“No.” He grabbed my wrist in his hand and pulled me forward. “We’re almost there. Watch your head.”
He lifted my hand until it touched the cool, damp ceiling that was looming just over my head, then I watched him duck down in front of me and disappear under the low-hanging ceiling.
The opening was small, smaller than any other I had seen in the cave, but I shut down the anxiety that was beating in my chest and followed after him.
I could see a hint of blue light as I crawled through, and when I stood back to my full height on the other side, I took in a sharp breath.
A pool of water glowed a cool blue, casting an eerie light across the damp walls of the cave.
Stalagmites surrounded us as Dacre moved around behind me, his footsteps echoing off the walls as I took it all in.
“What is this place?”
“Most of the water from the waterfall goes there.” He pointed to the far left where a small opening seemed to go on forever.
The silence between us was broken by the gentle gurgling of the river outside, carrying its load of water downstream.
“But for some reason, this pool of water doesn’t get pulled in that same direction, and it’s always this clear.”
Dacre crouched beside the pool, his outstretched fingers disturbing the glassy surface. I stepped closer and marveled at the blue light that seemed to be coming from the bottom of the pool itself.
“Please don’t fall in. You’ll drown before I’ll be able to get you up.”
Dacre smirked. “Are you worried about me?”
“I’m worried about finding my way back out of here.” I looked back over my shoulder to the small opening we had entered through as he chuckled.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure Eiran wouldn’t rest until he found you.”
“You really don’t like him.” I turned back and studied him.
His hand was still trailing over the water absently. “That’s putting it lightly.” He glanced up at me, and I found myself moving closer to him and the edge of the pool.
“Why?”
“That’s not something I want to talk about tonight.” He reached forward, and I hesitated as his fingers laced through mine, and he pulled me closer.
He tugged me down until I had no choice but to sit next to him at the edge of the water. He settled next to me and held out the bottle of wine in my direction. I took it from him, but I didn’t drink. I simply set it on the other side of me, out of his reach.
“Don’t ruin the mood.” He narrowed his eyes, but I simply rolled mine.
“Why are you drinking so much tonight anyway?” I pushed my hair out of my face before I leaned forward and ran my fingers through the water. It was much cooler than I had anticipated, and chills broke out across my skin.
“I just needed to take the edge off.”
“Off of what, exactly?”
Dacre’s eyes moved slowly over my face as he pressed his lips together in thought. His gaze was intense and calculating, as if he wanted to know whether I could be trusted with whatever he was about to reveal.
“How much do you know about the rebellion? Like, really know?” If his words hadn’t already filled me with hesitation, the way he was looking at me would’ve.
“All I know is from what I learned at the palace.” I shrugged because it was the truth. “You probably don’t want to know what they say about the rebellion.”
He nodded, and I wondered if he already knew.
Was he aware of what my father did whenever they caught someone who was actively conspiring as a rebel?
I knew all too well what my father was capable of when it came to those who sought to overthrow the kingdom—memories surged to the surface of traitors dangling from the castle walls at dawn, their lifeless bodies swaying in the breeze.
A chill ran through me as I recalled all those nights spent struggling to put the images out of my mind.
“Well, our rebellion isn’t what the people in that palace would make it seem. I know you hate us for bringing you here and making you join our cause, but do you know how many people we have saved from King Roan’s wrath? How many people were fearful for their lives until we brought them here?”
I shook my head because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I knew of my father’s cruelty firsthand, but I couldn’t imagine what he would do to strangers after what I had witnessed him do to people he was meant to love.
“Today, when we were on patrol, my father took us to the base of the waterfall.” Dacre swallowed so hard I could see his throat work with the tension. “There has been word lately of movement near there, and my father had gotten intel on a possible way into the castle.”
I tensed because I half expected Dacre to question me about this, about what I knew, but he simply kept going.
“But when we got there.” He shook his head and his gaze darkened as if he were being haunted by his memories.
“There were two boys lying at the base of the falls. Both of them were dead. It was their father who had been providing us with the intel.” He looked away from me, and a flicker of remorse crossed his eyes.
“He had been feeding my father information from inside the castle for years. We have no idea how they found out.”
My gut sank at his words. “Who was it?”
“What?” He ran his hand over his hair and looked back at me.
“The man who was giving information. Who was it?” I knew almost every man and woman in that castle. I had spent the entirety of my life with them, and I held my breath as I waited for Dacre to answer.
“Griffin. He was an adviser to the king.” He carefully watched me for my reaction.
I gave him none. Even as my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t liked Griffin during his time as one of my father’s advisers, but I had cared for his boys. And if what Dacre was saying was true…
No. I couldn’t think about it.
I swallowed down the emotion threatening to drown me and tried not to let Dacre see a trace of it on my face.
Was my father responsible?
“Did you know him?” Dacre asked, but his voice was soft as if he actually cared if I had lost someone I cared for.
My throat tightened and my voice cracked as I replied, “Only in passing.” My eyes darted around us, avoiding eye contact. I tried not to think about the time I’d spent with his sons. “I did know his boys, though.”
“I’m sorry.” Dacre’s apology was like an arrow through my chest, and I struggled to keep myself composed. His words made me painfully aware that the only thing keeping me safe from becoming a traitor in my father’s eyes was the fact that he had no knowledge of my whereabouts.
But I was a traitor, just as Dacre had named me the moment we met.
I was the princess of Marmoris, and here I sat with our enemy, talking about the cruelties of my king.
A king who should have had no more loyal a subject than his heir.
My heart raced as I imagined the worst. If Dacre discovered my true identity, he would kill me without mercy or perhaps use me in ways that would make me wish for death.
I had heard of the rebellion’s cruelties just as much as I had experienced my father’s.
I didn’t want to think about which of them was worse.
“I like to come here.” The sound of Dacre’s voice pulled me away from my thoughts, and I watched him as he looked out over the water. “I come here whenever the day has been too rough or when thoughts of my mother won’t quit plaguing my mind.”
“I’m sorry about your mother.” I couldn’t remember if I had already told him that, but it felt imperative for me to say it now.
I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that my own family had a hand in taking his mother away from him.
That I was sorry that his mother had spent her life fighting a king who hadn’t cared if she lived or died.
My father thought of the rebellion as a nuisance, and I didn’t think he truly took them seriously until they raided the castle.
But I had seen the fear in his eyes then.
My father was hoarding magic from the tithe, keeping it as a way to fuel his greed for power, but I had seen the trace of doubt on his face that day.
Everything he had taken from them may not have been enough.
The man had everything, and still, it wasn’t enough to protect him when his people finally decided to fight back.
I didn’t think anything ever would be.
Dacre nodded his head before he leaned back and pressed his eyes closed. “I’m too drunk for this conversation.”
I chuckled softly even though it lacked humor. “What would you like to talk about then?”
“You wearing nothing but my shirt.” He didn’t hesitate, his words coming out slow as if he could taste them, and they hung in the air like an unspoken promise, making my skin tingle with anticipation. “It’s really the only thing I can seem to think about since last night.”
I swallowed hard as I stared at him. His lashes were fanned out over his cheeks, and he looked so peaceful like this. “I was wearing more than just your shirt.”
“I know,” he groaned softly. “But all I could think about while lying there in the dark is what if you weren’t.”
He slowly turned his head toward me and looked into my eyes with an intensity that made my breath catch. His voice surprised me, soft and deep. “I kept dreaming of stripping you bare of everything else until you had nothing left to hide behind.”