Chapter 115 Xander #2

The king doesn’t answer right away, not as he leads us towards the castle wing designated for a royal’s betrothed.

Rhea’s rooms are located deeper into the castle, but the rooms that line this corridor are intended for wedding preparation.

He reaches for one of the door handles, and remembering what Anderson said Rhea was doing, I clear my throat.

“Isn’t this the seamstresses’ room?”

King Dolian’s brow lifts as he tilts his head in that menacing way that makes my skin crawl. “It is.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.” It’s a shit attempt to keep him away from her, but as a line forms between his brows, I think for a moment that it might work. The chuckle that he answers with dashes that hope.

“When it comes to my betrothed and I, luck has never been part of the equation.” Turning the handle, he pushes the door open, stepping inside as if he owns the space. I guess he fucking does.

“Y-your Majesty,” one of the seamstresses stutters as she lowers into a curtsy, the older woman next to her already settled into a deep one.

Rhea stands between them, draped in layers of shimmering white fabric that is pinned tightly to her body.

I glance at her reflection in the mirror placed in front of her, catching her gaze for only a moment before she drops it to the floor.

I don’t miss the redness that lines her eyes or the tears that she quickly wipes from her cheeks.

My grip on my sword tightens, but the murderous thoughts I harbor of killing the king are just that—thoughts.

With the mark of the crescent-shaped blood oath on my palm, I’ll never be able to make the killing blow.

And now Rhea bears the mark of a blood oath to the king too, one that might complicate our plans to help her escape.

But that will be something she and I can work out when I take her to meet the rest of the resistance.

“Leave us,” King Dolian says to the room, startling the seamstresses as Rhea looks up to find him watching her through the mirror.

Where before she would have shot him a glare or at the very least tightened her expression, now she stares listlessly, a gauntness to her complexion that has only worsened over the past two weeks.

“Your Majesty, perhaps we should discuss the plan for Lady Nele to heal another rou—”

“There is nothing that needs to be discussed at the moment. My fiancée and I will enjoy some time alone before the chaos of the wedding.” The two women rush out of the room, but my feet stay planted, my mind too slow to come up with a fucking reason not to leave her behind.

King Dolian circles Rhea like a predator, his fingers trailing along her waist and stopping when he reaches her side.

Then his gaze snaps to mine, his brows dropping low.

“Is there a reason you are lingering?” he asks slowly, his eyes darting from me to Rhea. My heart doubles its beats, my grip so tight on my sword that the skin covering my knuckles feels like it might split before I force it to relax. “Is there something I should know about?”

Rhea’s shoulders stiffen, her eyes losing focus for a split second as the magic of the ring washes over her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her lips part, and though I know I can’t hurt the king, I prepare to draw my sword anyway, cursing internally when the magic of my oath begins to burn at my palm.

“I do not like my dress,” she says, her green eyes wide and showing off the whites as she exhales loudly. “You should know that I do not like it.”

The king’s body relaxes, and after a dramatic sigh, he releases her hip and takes a step back, turning to face me.

“You will wait outside the door while I talk to Lady Nele, and then you will escort her to her room so she can rest. We’ve many important things coming up in these next few days.

I don’t need to worry about your loyalty, do I? ”

“No, Your Majesty.” I swallow when he focuses back on Rhea, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

The plea in them is clear—leave now before she’s forced to say something about me.

About the resistance. Gritting my teeth, I lower into a bow and head towards the door, fucking hating myself for doing so.

King Dolian emerges from the room first, one hand shoved into his pocket and an expression I don’t dare look at too closely plastered over his face.

“Take her back to her room,” he commands, not waiting for my response before he’s already striding down the hall.

Rhea comes out a few minutes after that, having changed into a light yellow gown with long sleeves and a gold chain belt wrapped around her waist.

“I’m fine,” she says, an automatic response to a question I haven’t asked yet. Flicking her honey-blonde hair over her shoulders, she keeps her gaze on the wall across from us as she waits for me to lead her back to her room.

But that’s not fucking happening.

“Rhea, w—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” It’s the quiver in her voice that silences me, her eyes growing watery despite the way I know she is fighting not to let any emotion show. I step in front of her so that she is forced to look at me, her head tilting up just enough to meet my gaze.

“We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but I’m not letting you be alone right now.”

“Xander—”

“Do you trust me?” I ask, the words soft but the question sharp. Rhea’s mouth snaps closed as she swallows roughly, her arms folding over her chest.

“I do,” she finally says, the words whispered.

I check down the length of the hallway to confirm we are alone and then reach my hand out for hers.

“Come on. It’s time that you meet the resistance.

” When she hesitates, I stretch my hand out farther.

“There are people who are kind, Rhea. They will not judge you. And we have a plan that you need to hear.” My relief is immediate when she finally slips her hand into mine.

I hold hers tightly, hoping she remembers our conversation in the tower.

That there are people who want her home. Want her safe.

We go undetected as we make our way to her rooms, Brisk greeting us at his post outside her door.

“I’ll say that she’s sleeping and is to be undisturbed should anyone come,” he says, his gaze soft when he looks at Rhea.

She nods in thanks, offering a sad smile, and then we slip into her room and right to the door that leads to the tunnels.

And what I hope is the first official step towards her freedom.

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