Chapter 13
I stood in the opulent sitting room, facing Noah. The plush carpet beneath my feet felt soft enough to swallow me whole. Fitting, since I was about to dive headfirst into dangerous waters.
“Alright, tell me what you wanted to say,” Noah said, his warm brown eyes searching my face.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. No point in dancing around it.
“I need to meet Rosalind,” I said, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.
Noah’s eyes widened, shock etching itself across his handsome features as realization set in. “You knew?”
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, I knew, you lovesick puppy. I’ve known all along where you’ve been sneaking off to. One of these days my eyes were going to roll off my face. Also, why does he speak like a buffoon? Wow, from prince of my heart to buffoon, I’ve come a long way.
Instead, I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “I’ve known where you’ve been this whole time, Noah.”
That didn’t sound ominous at all.
He paled slightly, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck – a nervous habit I’d noticed in my previous life. “Ilyana, it’s not what it seems. I—I just wanted to help her. She’s a friend, and—”
I held up a hand, cutting off his rambling. “Noah, relax. I know. And I’m glad you stepped up to help her. She is my friend too, remember? I just… couldn’t help her before.”
The tension in Noah’s shoulders eased slightly. He studied me for a moment, wariness still evident in his gaze. “You’re… not angry?”
I let out a dry chuckle. “Angry? No. Impressed that you managed to keep it a secret this long? Absolutely.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”
Manipulating was so much fun. If only you knew, dear husband. I’ve had years to come to terms with your heart.
“Life’s too short for pettiness,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, Rosalind needs all the allies she can get right now.”
Noah nodded slowly, seeming to relax further. “You’re right. I… I appreciate your understanding, Ilyana. Truly. And, thank you for asking Her Majesty earlier. I never thought of that.”
I offered him a small smile. “So, can I see her?”
He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I suppose that would be alright. Follow me.”
We left the palace grounds, sneaking out through a hidden passage that I pretended not to have known about. The streets of the capital were busy, filled with the usual hustle and bustle of city life. How strange it felt to walk these streets again, knowing what I knew.
Noah led me to a modest house on the outskirts of the city. It was well-maintained but unremarkable – the perfect hiding spot for a disgraced noblewoman.
As we approached the door, Noah turned to me. “Ilyana, before we go in… I need to know. What do you plan to say to her?”
Is he dense or something?
I met his gaze steadily. “The truth, Noah.” With a sprinkle of lies. “That I want to help her clear her father’s name and to convince her to go back to the palace.”
He studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. I trust you.”
Oh, the irony. If only you knew how untrustworthy I truly am.
We entered the house, and Noah called out, “Rosalind? It’s me. I’ve… brought someone to see you.”
A moment later, Rosalind appeared from an adjoining room. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a simple braid, and she wore a plain dress—her dresses might not have been as extravagant as mine or those of other ladies, but they were still better than this. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and a mix of emotions flashing across her face: surprise, hurt, and… was that anger?
“Ilyana?” she breathed, her voice was barely above a whisper, but her eyes were two molten pools of lava.
This wasn’t going to be easy. I offered her a tentative smile. “Hello, Rosalind. It’s been a while.”
Noah cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, glancing between us. “Ilyana, I’ll be outside, alright?”
I nodded, and he retreated, leaving Rosalind and me alone in the small sitting room.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. The air felt thick with unspoken words and shared history. I took a deep breath, preparing to navigate this conversation carefully.
“You look… well,” I said, breaking the silence. Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.
Rosalind let out a short, incredulous laugh, her voice hollow. “Do I? Do I really?”
I winced internally. Nice opening, Ilyana. Really stellar work there.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. “That was… insensitive of me.”
I stood there, frozen, as Rosalind’s blazing eyes bore into mine. The small sitting room suddenly felt suffocating, the walls closing in around us. I’d known this conversation wouldn’t be easy, but I hadn’t expected it to be quite this hostile. Then again, what did I expect? A warm welcome and a cup of tea?
“Why are you here, Ilyana?” Rosalind shouted, her voice dripping with venom. “Have you come to gloat?”
In the past, I had come here to do exactly that. But this time I wanted to placate her anger and make her forgive me. If she gave up her revenge on me then two of her potential lovers wouldn’t be after my head. No, it was three… or was it four? She had way too many men who had fallen for her.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at my own thoughts and instead softened my expression. “No,” I said, holding my hands out in a placating gesture. “I’ve come to help.”
Rosalind scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement drew attention to how thin she’d become, her once-fine dress hanging loosely on her frame. “Help? You? The woman who orchestrated my family’s downfall?”
I flinched at her words. Damn, that stung more than I’d like to admit. Past-me really was a piece of work, wasn’t she?
Before I could respond, Rosalind closed the distance between us in quick, angry strides. Her face was inches from mine, her breath hot on my cheek as she hissed, “What? You think I didn’t know that it was you behind all this?”
I resisted the urge to step back. Running away wouldn’t solve anything, and I’d done enough of that in my past life. “I know I’ve done terrible things, Rosalind,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Things I can never fully atone for. But I’m trying to make it right.”
“Make it right?” Rosalind’s voice rose, her eyes flashing with a fury that could’ve melted steel. “My father is dead, Ilyana. My family is ruined. How can you possibly make that right?”
Wait a minute, did she not know? I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “He’s not dead. Didn’t you hear about the retrial?”
That got her attention. Her eyes widened slightly, disbelief warring with hope on her face.
“Yes, your father was probably framed and there’s going to be a retrial,” I continued, seizing the moment. “He’s in Bellrose estate now, not in prison.”
For a fleeting second, I thought I saw her eyes soften. But then the walls slammed back up, and she scoffed, “Aren’t you ashamed to spout nonsense in front of me? Framed? Of course, he was framed. By you,” she jabbed a finger at my chest, her nail digging into my skin through the fabric of my dress painfully.
I bit back a sigh. This was going about as well as trying to bathe a cat. “Wait, Rosalind,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “I know my intentions to become friends with you weren’t purely out of the goodness of my heart. I-I had other intentions, but it wasn’t me who framed your father.”
At least, I hope it wasn’t ultimately me, the surprising development in the case making me hopeful. I just had to find a way to either catch the real culprit or expose that tidbit of information I had without implicating myself in the process.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Rosalind’s hand moving until it was too late. The vase sailed through the air, and I was too slow to dodge. It connected with my forehead with a sickening crack, and pain exploded behind my eyes.
I stumbled back and for a moment my vision turned black. I thought I would faint but slowly my vision cleared and I could feel something warm on my face. When I touched my forehead, my fingers came away red with blood. Wonderful. My anger flared, looking at the blood.
No, don’t get angry Ilyana. I shook my head, trying to dispel the evil thoughts my anger had brought upon me.
The commotion must have alerted Noah because he came bursting through the door a moment later. His eyes widened as he took in the scene – me, bleeding and dazed, and Rosalind, still seething with rage.
“What’s wrong with you, Rosalind?” he scolded, rushing to my side as he put his hands on my shoulders to steady me. I noticed Rosalind glancing at Noah’s hands, and I quickly swatted at them to make him let go. Lord, everything’s going downhill . “Why are you behaving like this? We came here in good faith and you’re acting like a child since that day I found you.”
As Noah fussed over my injury despite my best attempt to sneak out of his grasp, he explained to Rosalind about the retrial, “It’s true, it happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t get the chance.” And how I had asked the queen to reconsider her exile. “That’s why we’re here,” he finished. “To take you back to the palace.”
Rosalind listened in silence, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll go.”
Noah seemed relieved. “Good. I’ll go prepare the carriage,” he cast one last worried glance at me before hurrying out, leaving Rosalind and me alone once more.
The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I dabbed at my forehead with Noah’s handkerchief, wincing at the sting. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Rosalind closed the distance between us again.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” she hissed, her voice low and full of promise of vengeance, “but I’ll gladly take this opportunity you created and expose you. You think you’re the only one cunning here? Just wait and watch.”
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out after Noah, leaving me alone in the suddenly too-quiet room.
I stared ahead, my mind reeling. Did my plans just backfire on me? The throbbing pain in my head seemed to mock me, a reminder of how spectacularly wrong this encounter had gone.
What the hell am I going to do now?
* * *
The carriage ride back to the palace was awkward, to say the least. With my hand pressing Noah’s now blood-soaked handkerchief to my throbbing forehead, I sat in silent agony as Rosalind gazed out the window, her face a mask of stone as she ignored both of us. Noah, oblivious to it all, couldn’t tear his eyes away from her if his life depended on it.
I bit back a groan. If I rolled my eyes any harder, they might just pop out of my skull and roll right out of the carriage. What a sight that would be - the new Lady Stormbourne, eyeless and bleeding. At least then I’d have an excuse not to witness this nauseating display of unrequited love. No, not even love—at this point, it was just pining, like in those romantic novels popular with court ladies.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the doctor’s, Ilyana?” Noah asked for what felt like the thousandth time, his voice laced with concern that made my teeth ache.
“I’m fine,” I snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness in my tone. Softer, I added, “Really, Noah. It’s just a scratch.”
A scratch that felt like someone had taken a hammer to my skull, but details, details.
Rosalind’s eyes flickered to me for a moment, a mixture of satisfaction and anger flashing across her face before she returned to her vigil of the passing scenery.
Great. Just great. Not only had I failed spectacularly at mending fences, but I’d also managed to give Rosalind a goldmine of ammunition against me. Nothing says ‘I’m sorry for ruining your life’ quite like getting bashed in the head with a vase.
The rest of the journey passed in excruciating silence, broken only by the clip-clop of hooves and the occasional concerned glance from Noah. By the time we arrived at the palace, my head felt like it was hosting a demonic drum circle.
“I think I’ll retire to my chambers,” I announced as soon as the carriage door opened. “Noah, I trust you can handle… everything else?”
He nodded, his eyes already drifting back to Rosalind. “Of course. Rest well, Ilyana.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I bolted from the carriage, my vision swimming slightly as I made my way through the palace corridors. All I wanted was the sweet embrace of my bed and maybe a gallon of wine to dull the pain in my head and my pride.
But because the universe seemed determined to test the limits of my patience today, I rounded a corner and came face to face with none other than Prince Anderic himself.
Oh, for the love of all that is holy.
He was leaning against the wall outside our wing, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care in the universe. As soon as our eyes met, his lips quirked up in that infuriatingly smug smirk of his, ready to spout some nonsense.
But then his gaze landed on the blood-soaked handkerchief I still held to my forehead, and his expression darkened faster than storm clouds rolling in.
Before I could blink, he was in front of me, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief or cold calculation, now burned with an intensity that made me want to take a step back.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
I bristled at his tone. Who did he think he was, acting all concerned when just this morning he’d been threatening to keep an eye on me? Make up your mind, Your Highness.
“Nothing happened,” I snapped, my patience finally snapping like a twig underfoot. “I just ran into a wall. Happy now?”
I knew I was being rude but to hell with it. I was tired of being nice.
Anderic’s eyes narrowed, clearly not buying my flimsy excuse for a second. “A wall,” he repeated flatly. “And I suppose this wall had arms and legs?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, you have no idea.”
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Ilyana,” he said, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Who did this to you?”
The genuine concern in his voice threw me for a loop. For a moment, I almost wanted to tell him the truth. But then I remembered who I was dealing with. Prince Anderic Voltaire, the master manipulator himself. He definitely had someone to tail me all the way and there’s no way he didn’t know where Rosalind was all this time. This was probably just another one of his games.
“Why do you care?” I challenged, meeting his gaze head-on. “Weren’t you just telling me this morning how untrustworthy I am? How you’re going to keep a close eye on me?”
Anderic’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite decipher. Frustration? Annoyance? Or was it just a trick of the light?
“That doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt.”
For a moment, we just stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. The corridor suddenly felt too small, too warm. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, though whether from the proximity or the tension, I couldn’t say.
Finally, I broke the silence. “Look, I appreciate your concern, misplaced as it may be. But I’m fine. Really. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a dark room and some peace and quiet.”
I made to move past him, but his hand shot out, gently grasping my arm. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me, and I froze.