Chapter 50 Precious Time
Castien took a sip of lukewarm everleaf tea. It wasn’t wise to consume so much of it, but he couldn’t afford to grow weary. The more time he wasted, the more time the killer had to regroup and strike again. His gaze bounced around his bedroom walls.
After Wren had told him about what she sensed at the funeral, Castien had taken to writing everything he knew about all the attendees.
He sent her a letter to inquire if she had any details that would narrow down the search, and Castien hoped Heathford would return with her answer soon.
Because though he could come up with a motive for every person there, nothing in particular stood out as a detail that connected them to all the murders.
Castien raked a hand through his hair in frustration. If only he wouldn’t have gotten distracted with trying to fit Heron’s murder into the narrative. He tried to apply Wren’s words and not blame himself, but it was difficult not to when he should have seen it.
“Why don’t you take a break until Heathford returns? You’ve exhausted all of what we know,” Finn slurred from behind Castien.
Castien sighed and turned around. His cousin was slumped in a chair by the fire.
He looked seconds from falling asleep, though he was trying to fight it.
Castien thought back to Wren’s words about food and rest. They had picked at a meal yesterday after the funeral as she had instructed, and Heathford had encouraged them to take breakfast this morning.
But that was all they had managed. Between that and their lack of sleep, they were liable to push themselves to their limits.
“You’re right. I’ll sit down for a moment.”
Finn’s brows rose in shock at Castien’s acquiescence. Castien placed his cup on an end table, then sat down on the edge of his bed. He wouldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable, lest he risk falling asleep. Heathford—Tides-cursed caretaker he was—wouldn’t wake him if he did.
Castien hung his head and drew in a deep breath.
He’d scarcely let it out when his door burst open, sending him to his feet.
Heathford stumbled in, chest heaving and gray hair disheveled.
Clutched in his right hand was the letter for Wren.
Castien’s heart dropped to his stomach. There was only one other time Heathford had returned with a letter still in hand. The night Wren went to the Wall.
“Lady Kalyxi has gone to the tunnels.” Heathford gasped for air. “Blossom was confused when I arrived with a letter. Said Wren had received word to meet you there. She left some time ago.”
Castien’s blood rushed in his ears. He went to his weapons chest and grabbed his sword off the top, along with the scabbard that went around his waist.
Please, please let her be alive.
If Wren was gone, Castien wouldn’t survive the loss. Her breath was tied to his. Their heartbeats one and the same. His soul was interwoven with hers. There was no life imaginable apart from her. Where would he go? What would he do? Purpose would be futile in the wake of her death.
Focus! he screamed at himself. She was not dead. He shouldn’t behave as if she were.
“Finn?” Castien made his way to the door at a fast pace.
“With my life.” Finn echoed the promise he made the night of the ball when Castien had left Wren in his care.
“Should I notify anyone, Your Highness?” Heathford asked as Castien opened the door.
“No. Whatever occurs tonight will be done by my hand, not anyone else’s,” Castien growled.
Then down the tower stairs he went. Finn followed close behind, each of them taking two steps at a time. Castien heard guards talking in the foyer. His mouth twisted into a scowl. They were useless.
“I’ll take care of them, then meet you down there,” Finn said, slipping around Castien to get ahead.
His cousin’s charm filled the air like spilled perfume. Castien waited only a moment. If Finn didn’t have their attention, then Castien would incapacitate them. No one would stand between him and Wren.
Finn had been successful, though. The two guards were facing away from the parlor where Castien was headed.
He kept his steps light as he moved about the house.
For though he wouldn’t hesitate to cut someone down, he didn’t want to waste time.
His stomach churned as he closed the parlor door behind him and made his way to the bookshelf.
She’s alive. If she were dead, I’d know.
Castien reassured himself over and over as he tugged on the book and slid into the room beyond.
It was almost identical to the one in House of Adira.
The one Wren would have used when she thought she was meeting him.
His chest ached at the thought. Castien carefully climbed the ladder down into the tunnels.
He couldn’t risk so much as a loud sigh.
The element of surprise was on his side.
He crept along the walls of the tunnel, peering around every corner before moving and listening intently for the slightest noise. That’s when he heard her. His storyteller. Relief drenched him like a rainstorm.
“You wish for me to poison him?” Wren’s voice was shaken, as if she were trying to feign calm when she was terrified.
“Yes, it will be so much sweeter coming from you.” Cyprus’s voice made Castien’s blood run cold. “He won’t expect it. The last thing he sees will be his dearest’s triumphant grin.”
This whole time it was Cyprus? He’d seemed so insignificant. Castien couldn’t recall having wronged him in any way. Tides, the man had hardly taken up more than a moment’s thought in Castien’s mind, and that had only been due to his infatuation with Wren.
Castien tipped his head ever so slightly around the corner, then quickly snapped it back.
Cyprus was facing his direction. The only way to surprise him would be to take a long route through the tunnels to get to the opposite side.
That would drink up precious time. Wren seemed to have Cyprus placated, but who knows how long he’d stay that way?
Castien tried to think. His Gift winked in and out.
There was no stifling his fear for Wren’s safety.
A part of him wanted to let his feelings flow freely, so that Wren might find comfort in recognizing them.
But he knew that to save her, he needed to steel his mind against his emotions.
So, Castien grit his teeth and forced himself through calculations and creeds.
Gold painted the walls. Cyprus killed in ways that were performative. As though he was toying with Castien. So if he did try to kill Wren because of Castien’s presence, he would make a show out of it. That would buy Castien time.
“That’s brilliant, Cyprus,” Wren said, yanking away Castien’s focus again. Her voice sounded hollow. The urge to sink his blade through Cyprus's chest increased.
“Isn’t it?” Cyprus let out a sinister laugh. “It wasn’t in my original plan. I was going to kill Finn first, but then Castien fell for you. And I knew you couldn’t really love him. You’re too pure of heart.”
Castien gripped the pommel of his sword until it hurt. Cyprus had no idea what bringing up the word pure would do to Wren.
“Thank you,” Wren choked out.
That was it. Castien couldn’t listen to her be emotionally tormented by that monster. It might not have been his most calculated move, but he needed to end this.
Castien drew his sword and stepped into the hallway. The light of a torch illuminated him. Cyprus spotted him immediately and grabbed Wren.
“If you hurt her, I will make you regret the day you were born,” Castien growled.
Cyprus flipped Wren around and yanked her back against his chest. A dagger pressed to her throat, and Castien saw red.
“Put down your weapon or I slit her throat,” Cyprus ordered.
Wren’s eyes were wide with fear and concern. Her lips were pressed together tightly. Cyprus had one arm wrapped around both of hers, so her hands were glued to her sides, and the other held a dagger to her throat.
Castien tossed his sword behind him, where Finn would be able to see it if he came the same way Castien had. Once the sword was disposed of, Castien carefully made his way toward Cyprus. He wouldn’t need a weapon to kill him. Just one good opportunity.
“That’s close enough,” Cyprus said quickly when Castien was a few paces from Wren.
Wren’s tear-filled gaze roved over him. Castien let her feel every emotion he was having. Fear, love, fury, concern. All of it was hers to have. Her lashes fluttered, and a tear trailed down her cheek. Castien clenched his fists at his side.
“Why are you using her as a shield?” Castien asked. “Can you not face me as a true warrior?”
Cyprus sneered over Wren’s shoulder.
“You aren’t going to goad me into giving up leverage with ego. I’m not prideful like you.”
Castien met Wren’s gaze. He had to think of a way to get her out of this. If he died, so be it, but she could not. She had been through too much for her to die now. She deserved happiness. Castien would pave her path to peace with his own blood if he had to.
There was no way of knowing when Finn would make it to them. If he did soon, he’d have to then take the long route Castien just opted against. Which meant Castien needed to find a way to distract Cyprus or get him to face Castien outright.
Wren’s gaze shot down meaningfully. Castien didn’t look right away; instead, he glanced at Cyprus.
“Then what is your plan? What do you wish to accomplish?” Castien asked him, then chanced a glance downward.
Wren clutched at her coat with her fingers.
The very tip of a leather scabbard glinted in the torchlight they stood beneath.
His heart quickened. She had his dagger!
His excitement quickly gave way to concern, though, when he realized Wren would have to be the one to use the weapon.
There was no way Cyprus would allow him to get close enough.
Castien was confident that Wren knew how to defend herself after her lessons, but she did not possess the same belief in herself.
And without that … this wasn’t liable to go well.
Castien met her gaze again. She swallowed against the blade.
His nails bit into his palms. There was no other choice.
They didn’t have time to wait on Finn. They needed to distract Cyprus enough for Wren to get to her weapon unnoticed, and then he had to trust that she could do what was necessary to maim him.
Or at least create an opportunity for Castien to enter the fight.
“Cyprus says he’s better than you,” Wren blurted. “That he should have been High Inquisitor, not you.”
Cyprus glanced at Wren, confusion threading his brows together.
She could sense his emotions and had spent time in conversation with him. That meant she knew how to push his buttons. Castien didn’t know if he wanted to anger him, though. That risked him lashing out.
“Is that your aim, then? To use Wren to bargain for the High Inquisitor position?” Castien asked.
Wren widened her eyes with purpose. Castien subtly shook his head. He couldn’t risk it. There was too much out of his control. In fact, nothing was in his control, and that made Castien’s mind spin.
“I’m not foolish enough to think you’d give that to me,” Cyprus said with a glare. “No, there’s only one way tonight ends.”
Wren’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Tears began to stream down her face.
“You’re going to get on your knees and put your hands behind your back,” Cyprus instructed in a dark tone. “If you make any sudden movements, I’ll make you watch your dearest die before I kill you.”
Castien hated the idea of kneeling before a monster like him, but he’d do anything to preserve Wren’s life. He met her eyes as he sank to his knees. My Empress. My Queen. The act was for her, not Cyprus. Wren began to tremble.
“Don’t worry, Wren,” Cyprus cajoled. “Remember what we talked about. I don’t want to kill you. It’s not me to be afraid of—it’s him. This isn’t what we planned, but that’s okay.”
Wren nodded. Castien saw that she was screaming behind her eyes. He tried to pour love out to comfort her, but it was difficult when fear and fury battled for control of his mind. His only solace was that Cyprus seemed attached to being Wren’s savior.
“We’ll kill him and then be free,” Cyprus said in a soothing tone that stoked Castien’s anger even more.
“It’s pathetic that you have to kill me this way,” Castien taunted as he placed his hands behind his back. “A man of real worth would face me in a duel.”
Cyprus jerked his head forward again. His eyes flashed in anger.
“I told you: you can’t goad me!”
Castien didn’t want to push Cyprus into a rage, but he had nothing left. He needed to trust that Wren could do what had to be done. Her fingers tucked beneath her coat.
“Even if you kill me, you won’t become anyone of note.
They won’t make you High Inquisitor. Why would they?
No one knows who you are. No one cares about you.
And nothing will change that. You’ll spend your days sulking in the shadows like the scum you are.
” Castien hurled the insults, hoping they would hit a sore spot.
“Stop talking!” Cyprus shouted, his grip loosening ever so slightly around Wren as he snarled at Castien. “If you say another word, I swear I’ll kill her.”
Castien’s jaw clamped shut. Cyprus smirked like he had won. But little did he know, Wren’s hand was wrapped around her dagger.