Chapter 10
I’d rehearsed my story until I could recite it in my sleep. Grabbing the pocket watch from my nightstand, I grunted in annoyance. It was barely five in the morning. Rest had come sparsely since my arrival here four days ago.
I should’ve felt relieved that the first part of my mission was accomplished. I didn’t.
I yanked off the blanket and stepped onto the cool floor. Savoring the last bit of silence before a hectic day, I slowly put on thin leather pants and a white shirt. The closet pushed against the wall was filled with clothes, just for me.
My imagination conjured scenarios as I speculated about the different outcomes the council meeting could yield.
A warm wind surrounded me as I stepped outside, and I relished the slight sense of freedom I felt as the breeze played with my loose hair. My shoes laid forgotten inside the hut; I just needed some air.
Soft grass caressed my bare toes as I walked to the small garden in front of me.
Moonlight shone brightly from above, casting a calm hue over the area.
I pulled a stem from the unfamiliar purple flowers and rolled the delicate leaves between my fingers.
The misty scent of mint and earth filled the air.
I tossed the stem on the ground in anger.
Daegal was going to ruin everything. The worst part was I knew I deserved it. The thought of Lili was the one thing that kept me from telling Hannan everything.
“That’s skullcap,” a low voice said behind me. My heart jolted. I spun around, staring in the direction of the sound. Daegal was leaning against his door, a small pipe between his slightly parted lips. He inhaled deeply, then blew a thick waft of smoke through his nose.
I lifted my brows. “Did I ask?”
I’d never heard of the plant before, and with any other person, it would’ve been interesting to learn more.
He huffed, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was about to smile. “Do you want some? It could help you sleep,” he said, an unexpected offer of kindness that made me narrow my eyes at him.
“It hasn’t helped you,” I answered, pointing at him. “Besides, why would you help me? Have you finally realized that you’ve been wrong this whole time and decided I’m worthy of your trust?”
He made an uncommitted shrug before kicking lightly off the door to walk closer to me. “Maybe.” His tone was calm, too friendly compared to the look of loathing on his face. “Just take it before I change my mind.” He shook the pipe in my direction.
I considered him for a moment, but I did need the sleep. He’d been smoking from the same pipe a minute ago; it couldn’t be poisoned.
He smirked as he watched the gears turn in my head. “Despite what you might think of me, I’m not a murderer, Prudence.”
Sighing, I grabbed the thing from his hand and inhaled deeply like I’d watched him do. I choked on the thick smoke as a tightening sensation formed in my jaw and chest.
He chuckled at my incompetence and snatched the pipe back. I perched myself on a rock at the edge of the garden, letting the pleasant spinning sensation overpower the rest of my senses.
“So…” I started, placing my head in my hands and staring up at him. “You’re helping me now?”
He crouched down to my eye level, grinning with sudden malice that made my stomach lurch. “Who says I am?”
I knitted my eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
He stood back up, scooping a pocket watch from his black pants. “The council meeting is at nine. You’ll be knocked out for hours if this is your first smoke.”
My face drained as I stared at him, barely believing his audacity. “This is low, even for you,” I snarled. My chest hammered. I couldn’t miss that meeting. My entire plan, though feeble, depended on earning the Rebellion’s trust.
I got to my feet as quickly as I could, the world spinning before my eyes. Could I puke it up? Sweat it out? I felt my heartbeat in my ears. My palms grew slick with sweat.
Daegal watched me amusedly, taking another puff and blowing the smoke into my face. He looked like he wanted to say something and probably make fun of me. But I didn’t give him the chance.
My eyes locked with his, and my world momentarily stilled. I focused all my energy on a burning hatred for the man in front of me.
Stalking towards him, I lifted my fist to smack him across his smug face. The dizzying sensation only worsened, but I needed to channel all my pent-up anxiety, anger, and fear into the punch.
He stepped to the side at the last second before my hand could collide with his cheek, catching my fist in his free hand.
“Oh, Prudence. Why would you trust me for even a second?” he mocked, squeezing my closed fist in a false friendly gesture.
I yanked my hand free, lunging for his face once more. I knew I was acting out, but the rage and confusion that filled me blocked that side of my brain that told me to behave rationally.
He grabbed my wrist and spun me around in an armlock. I shrieked, writhing furiously to get free.
“Did nobody tell you I used to be a warrior?” he drawled, his grip on me unrelenting as I tried to stomp on his toes.
“You’re too young to be a warrior,” I countered. “No war has been fought since you were born.” My voice was uneven and pitchy, but my own words made me realize something important. Groundbreaking. This audacious man had secrets of his own, after all.
“Can you behave?” he asked softly, and I nodded in irritation.
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat as he released me, pushing me away when he did so. I spun around quickly, grabbed his right arm, and forced his sleeve up to his elbow.
I knew it.
Concealed between his many inky swirls was the half-sun with a sword rising from its midst. It took up most of his lower arm, just like I’d anticipated.
He’d decorated both around it and on top to hide the evidence of his past. Most people would probably glance right over it without realizing, but I’d seen that symbol too many times to mistake it for a regular tattoo.
His face turned pale in the moonlight as triumph showed on mine. “A warrior, or one of the King’s bullies?” I said, staring up at him with fresh satisfaction. Now it was my time to mock him. I’d enjoy it as much as I could, though my head was pounding so violently now that I longed to lay down.
He stared wildly around to ensure we were alone, while hurriedly shaking down his sleeve. There was no one in near proximity. In fact, nobody would be awake at this hour except for us.
I gasped as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards my hut. I clawed at his arm in silent protest, leaving deep, bloody scratches on his skin. I didn’t want to attract attention by yelling for help. It would be as much my demise as his, having to explain this situation.
He swung the door open, then spun around and slammed me into it, shutting it with a bang. My head buzzed as he grabbed me by the collar. There was fury in him that I hadn’t seen before. It was obvious that he was desperate to keep his past a secret.
That was why, even as he locked his dark, angry, eyes with mine, I felt the smirk creep onto my lips. His face was inches from mine as he crouched over me like a predator.
“I take it a city-girl like yourself recognizes the symbol on my arm?” he asked, all the careless nonchalance from earlier gone.
I nodded, scratching the hand that he clutched tightly around my collar to free myself. His cold rings skimmed my neck as he considered me, keeping his grip firm.
Something dawned on me then. I’d seen him before, many years ago. Back then, his stubble had barely grown in, his eyes had been rounder, softer. But it was undoubtedly him.
“I recognize you,” I breathed, staring at him in disbelief. He was the Defender who’d let me escape one time, five or six years ago.
I was hiding in a corner, clutching the loaf of bread I’d snatched from a bakery.
The Defenders were on my tail, chasing me down the crowded street.
I’d thrown myself into a corner, and pulled the shadows close around me.
This would either mean my escape, or I’d trapped myself in a corner.
The first two Defenders ran straight past me.
As the last one, clearly the youngest of them, passed me, his dark eyes had flickered to my corner.
Just for a moment. His steps had haltered, like he’d seen me sitting there.
His index finger had drifted to his lips for a second, and then he’d taken off, following the others.
The bread in my arms had crumbled to pieces from my tight grip, but I’d still brought it home to Lili.
That night, we’d had full bellies for the first time in weeks.
“You let me escape,” I said, my voice shaking. He gave me a confused glance before the same daunting realization hit him. He recognized me too, but as the small starving girl he’d taken pity on.
He released his grip and stepped away, somewhat regaining his calm demeanor. “Yes, that was one of my first missions as a Defender. You can imagine how much I regret letting you go now.”
Before I could retort, he spoke again. “I’ve been here for a long time.
I won’t let you ruin my name with some half-truth.
I’m not that guy anymore. I’m no longer a Defender,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as if to keep them occupied.
“The council know most of my story. They forgave me years ago when I came to them.”
“How long ago did you join them?”
“Four years ago.”
“Four years?” I snorted, stepping away from the door and folding my arms. “And you still don’t trust them with your full identity. Got some trust issues?” I couldn’t feel gratitude towards him, though he’d saved me those years ago. We didn’t know each other then, and I didn’t owe him anything now.
He growled, slouching down in the big armchair pushed up against the wall. He twisted the large silver ring around his thumb as he gave me a calculating stare.
“You won’t tell a soul, Prudence. Would you like to know why?”