Chapter Twenty Four
I served out my punishment for two days. Rhael did not summon me, he did not come to my room, and I did not dare venture out to find him again.
On the second afternoon, the guards were removed from my door quietly, without explanation as if my imprisonment had never happened at all.
The first person to break my isolation was Penny. She arrived just after lunch, knocking once before slipping inside her arms full of clean linens, steaming water and oils that smelled faintly of crushed herbs and rain.
She stopped short when she saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to my chest staring at nothing in particular. I knew I looked a state, but there was also no point in me caring, when I had nothing to be prepared for.
“Gods above you look like hell,” she said softly, frowning as she took in my appearance, as if months of her hard work had been wasted.
“You should see the other guy.” I huffed, a weak laugh escaping me.
Penny’s brows knitted together setting her things down, her eyes sharp as she took me in. The faint shadows beneath my eyes, the way my shoulders stayed too tense. If I was honest I had not felt right since Rhael kissed me.
The images of the dungeon stuck in my mind paired with the softness of his lips, the way he had held me. It was such a contrast that I was not sure if my mind would ever be able to reconcile the two.
“What did you do to make him that angry?” she asked carefully. Fussing around the room, I knew she had tried to get entry at least once. I had awoken at some point to hear her arguing with the guards at my door. Demanding that they let her pass.
“Is it that obvious?” I snorted, my shoulders raising as I smiled. I hadn’t realised I had missed her until she was back there in my room, fussing over me. It felt as though I had regained some sense of normalcy in my life.
“The entire court has been whispering for days.
The King has not slept, he broke a chair in the council chamber, and someone said he even threatened to tear out a noble's tongue just for breathing too loudly.” She explained, fussing as she dipped a cloth into the warm water, immediately beginning to wipe it across my face.
“That does sound like it's my fault,” I grimaced as she looked me over, scanning me from head to toe as if checking for bruises, missing limbs or any other signs of violence.
“Tell me, what did you do?” She asked, sitting on the bed behind me, her fingers carding through the mess that was my hair. Her tone was direct and immediate, almost like siblings
“I wasn't honest,” I say looking down, fidgeting with my fingers. Picking at the nails, the truth was part of me was embarrassed that I had been naive enough to believe the vampires in the first place. Let alone the one that had been responsible for so much of Rhael’s pain.
“You were barred from seeing anyone, even me. The guards would not tell me why. That does not seem like a simple act of dishonesty.” Penny observed, as her hands began to undo the lace of the simple dress I was wearing, her fingers warm against my back.
“I made a mistake, a stupid one, and when he didn't let me explain I snuck out and found him.” I explained, letting her run the cloth down my neck soaking me in the herbal smelling water.
“Where?” She asked her tone sharp, as if she knew exactly what I was talking about but wanted to hear me say it.
“Somewhere I shouldn't have been, through the door in his office,” a reluctant laugh leaving my lips as I remembered my behaviour from that night,
“Oh.” She whispered, the worry in her voice evident as she began to run oils through my hair.
“And I refused to leave, or back down even when I should have.” I muttered, finding it easier to talk about what happened in the dungeon rather than the conversation with the vampire.
“Did he hurt you?” She asked, the humour dropping from her voice as her hands stilled her muscles tensing as she imaged the worst.
Penny wasn’t naive, I had learned that within my first week here. She knew almost everything that happened within the castle walls, and the idea that there was something that had not yet reached her ears was more unsettling than the act itself.
“No.” I said quickly, my tone firm dismissing any thoughts that had entered her mind.
“Well, that is something,” she said, her body relaxing behind me as she resumed her attention to my chair.
“Nothing happened. Not really. Just enough to remind me why he is the way he is.” I explained, trying to fill the awkward void that had settled between us once more. As if we were both afraid to delve any further into the topic.
“Well, you are either very brave or very stupid,” she smirked, slight humour returning to her voice.
“I’ve been told I am both.” I mused, as Penny let out a small laugh. Moving on to preparing me to bathe.
It took two hours for Penny to deem me worthy of travel.
An hour of that had been her adding different oils and scents to my bath water until I smelt like I had spent the last two days in an apothecary.
I ended up back in riding gear, my hair braided into one plait away from my face.
Packed with a few dresses that the Fae realm would be considered mundane and boring.
When I finally left the room the castle had shifted into motion. Vaetharyn had always felt so alive to me. Not in the way that forests or oceans have life, but in a way more deliberate.
I ran my fingers across the stone walls, veined faintly with silver that pulsed when the sun hit them in just the right place. The way everything hummed with a low magic, subtle and constant. Like warmth that I was not ready to yet let go of.
Rhael was already mounted on the horse waiting for me when I approached him, weaving my way through the bustling courtyard trying to move as quickly as I could.
He sat astride his horse, the only one in the entire courtyard, dark riding gear clothed his body, paired with a dark cloak which hung behind him as if he was a knight ready to ride into battle.
For a heartbeat I stood still next to the horse. Just watching him. Once more he was a King, the red haze of fury that had clouded him in the dungeons was gone. His posture was rigid, contained, The King stood amongst his people rather than the man fighting his own demons.
“Mount” he ordered, extending his hand without directly looking at me.
His voice held together by steeled control.
Part of me was thankful for it, the other part hated it.
Deep inside my being I hated that I had to deal with his two sides, wishing that I could just have him be honest, to know where I stood without playing guessing games.
But that was never an option, not as long as he was King.
Pushing the disturbing thoughts from my brain I placed my foot in the stirrup and slid into the saddle in front of him. His hands settled at my waist, steadying me. The difference in his touch was immediate.
Before his hold had been firm but distant.
The grip of someone maintaining order. This time his arm curved fully around me.
His chest pressed to my back without leaving space between us.
I felt the warmth of him through layers of fabric.
Felt the quiet rhythm of his breath on my neck, as he nudged the horse to move onwards.
We did not speak of the dungeon on our journey, not once.
Instead, we fell into an easy comfortable silence, both of us knowing what lingered inside of the other's mind but not daring to approach the moment that something had changed between us.
Neither one of us dared to believe we could make it out of this alive.
We rode for hours, the sky above us streaked with gold by the time we neared the point where the Fae Lands met with the slums. The lands closest to the meeting point were dense with forest, pine trees rising tall and shadowed, on either side of the narrow road.
Moss carpeted the ground, and the air carried that sharp, clean scent of sap and earth.
The hum of the magic that usually coated my skin thinned the further we got from Vaetharyn, and I found myself breathing deeper into the softer, colder air.
I had not been back in the slums since I had been sold to Fion, and I had almost forgotten what it was like to breathe in a place that did not suffocate you with magic. My body welcomed it, but my heart sank.
I felt it in my bones, that weakness that everyone else knew about the slums. I had thought them wrong before, imagined it was just the prejudice of creatures against the humans, providing them another reason to see them as less than.
However now, crossing that imaginary territorial boundary I almost feel weaker.
“You are tense,” Rhael observed, his arm still banded around my stomach, even after hours of riding.
“I am just trying to remember this place.” I whispered, my hands tightening on the reins. I knew better but it was partially a lie.
I could remember exactly how I had felt the last time I crossed over the border. Scared, alone and angry, being dragged into a world that I did not know and had always been taught to fear.
“You will not be harmed this time, but I will need to take some precautions, to make sure people do not know how valuable you are,” he whispered, his breath fanning over my neck in a way that made every nerve in my body set on fire.
I wasn't sure if it was intentional, so I forced my mind to focus on his words rather than his actions.
“What precautions?” I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
“For appearances, your hands will need to be bound. They will need to believe that you are what you were sold to me as. A slave.” He explained. My gaze narrowed, I knew this wasn’t going to end the way I wanted.
“And they will not believe that if you leave me unbound?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Humans are very black and white Elara, you know this.” Rhael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“Not all,” I countered, a small smile playing on my lips. Even though I was scared, it didn’t stop the need to push his buttons.
“No, not all. Some can be very perceptive and difficult if they decide to be.” He smirked, his eyes moving up and down my body.
“I would say more difficult than perceptive”, I whisper with a small smile, hearing him chuckle beside me.
Now we were away from Vaetharyn, Rhael was back to being the man who was easier to like. His shoulders relaxed, he no longer fiddled with the lip ring and his whole body seemed to exhale a breath it constantly held.
“Perhaps” he joked as his free hand began to guide the reins down a narrow side street. His arm finally unwound from my stomach to pull his hood up to cover his face, the dark fabric turning him into a looming figure.
Dusk had already settled over the slums, casting long shadows from buildings that looked like a strong gust of wind could knock them over. A heaviness settled into my heart as I looked around the place I had once called home.
The slums did not rise from the earth so much as they sagged against it. Buildings leaned into each other like drunks too exhausted to stand alone. Timber frames warped by years of damp, roofs patched with mismatched shingles and rusted tin that always rattled no matter the weather.
Chimneys coughed thick columns of greasy smoke into the sky, creating a dark grey overcast. As if the heavens themselves could not even look down to such a depressing place.
The streets were filled with packed mud and refuse. Narrowed corridors formed by buildings with barely enough room for a person to pass through. The air was thick with the smell of damp, metal and dirt. Everything about it was suffocating.
Rhael dismounted first, then lifted me down with deliberate control. He had purposefully chosen a darker corner to dismount, I could see almost nothing, surrounded by shadows and the voices of humans around us.
From his saddle bag, Rhael pulled a long chord of rope, holding it in his hands as if it would poison him. I strained my eyes to see, seeing it hanging there as he moved forward towards me. His shadow took up what little vision I had.
“Just for appearances,” he whispered as he pulled my wrists in front of me, keeping them there as he wrapped the rope around my skin. Binding them together in a knot.
It wasn't too tight, but it still stung when he pulled the knot tighter. My heart beat heavily in my chest, flashbacks threatening to overwhelm me of what it had been like before. How the rope had bitten into my skin, as I fought against the men holding me down.
The only thing reminding me that this was different was Rhael's hands, his fingers lingering over my skin almost soothing where the rope touched.
I knew, like before, that this meeting would mean me staying silent. Being used as a prop for whatever Rhael needed from me.
We had to do this right, and in the silent way he gripped the end of the rope pulling me with him through the narrowed corridors I could tell he enjoyed this even less than I did.
We just had to play the game.