Cages and Crowns (The Diadem #2)

Chapter One

The Los t

I don’t look up from my wine glass as the door to my bed chamber opens.

My head is propped up against a stone post as I lounge on the balcony, the sun warming my tanning skin.

We had another snow fall the other day, which isn’t common for spring, but it is finally melting away, succumbing to the encroaching heat.

As promised, the spring flowers truly do fill every inch of this godsforsaken place.

The green hills are littered with various blooms, their colors creating a rainbow, but it’s the wisteria trees that are filling the air with their suffocating floral scent and various shades of purple.

I don’t know why I expected them to lie about something as trivial as flowers; I’m just having a hard time trusting anything that comes out of his mouth.

Speaking of the devil incarnate, he clears his throat behind me, his not-so-subtle way to command my attention.

I sigh as loud as humanly possible, letting him know how much I detest his presence, not that he cares, before tipping my head back and draining the rest of my glass.

I spin around in my seat and face him; his mask of the golden boy is blank and unreadable, irritating me to no end.

I can never tell if he is in here to bother me or if he has somehow received word about Elaenor and her location.

Though, I suppose if there was important news for me to learn, it wouldn’t be coming from him.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I purr as sweetly as I can. He’s not stupid enough to mistake it for excitement at his presence, but he still doesn’t react.

He never does.

“I am being told you still refuse to leave your room?” He raises a single brow and I roll my eyes, I guess bothering me is his goal for today.

His better-than-thou air of superiority is getting really fucking tiring and I want nothing more than to hit his perfectly groomed face.

I can barely stand to look at him, much less join him and the others outside the walls of my chamber.

What does he expect? Am I supposed to act like I am not stuck in this barren hole of a country?

“This is less a room and more of a prison.” I sneer, reaching for the wine bottle on the small table next to me.

The berry red liquid splashes into the glass, but only fills it up halfway.

I pout before slamming the bottle back down on the table, the glass clinking loudly against the wood.

Another bottle empty and yet my heart still isn’t full, and my mind still isn’t numb.

What will it take to be free of the demons taking residence in my head?

“You are not a prisoner here, Scarlett, you know that.” I can tell he’s irritated, but he never loses control.

He always has the same stupid, straight smile.

One that could almost be mistaken for contempt if I knew it wasn’t hiding his pain and anger towards the current state of our lives.

Why he never shows emotion, never gives in to his feelings, I don’t know.

One of these days his emotional well will overflow and he’ll snap .

I just hope I am far away when he does.

“Well, not being able to go home, nor be rid of all of this ridiculous yellow decor,” I wave my arms around the room, gesturing to the lemon hue plastered everywhere from curtains to bedding to rugs.

“Kind of feels like torture. What sort of color even is yellow?” He sighs and runs his hands through his perfect inky hair, save for that single white streak that seems to be darkening to gray as the days pass.

I know it’s not a good sign, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

I refuse to acknowledge what it means, or what they think it means.

“It’s gold, Scarlett, not yellow.” He’s trying to control his temper, but the ice in his tone peeks through. I don’t even try to hide the smile of amusement that plays at the edges of my mouth as his stony resolve finally cracks.

“Have you ever seen the color gold? Because this isn’t it.

” I smirk before draining my glass again.

The wine is sweet and bitter at the same time, burning its way down my throat.

It doesn’t taste nearly as good as the pink wine Elaenor had in her room, but now I know why it was so sweet; it was drugged.

I can’t help but feel slightly jealous. I wish I had a wine that made the days pass without notice.

I guess that makes me a shitty person.

“It isn’t a very easy color to capture unless it's constructed of metal.” He shrugs. Are we really debating colors right now? Is this what I have to look forward to during my never-ending days in Rakushia? I’d rather drive a dagger through my eye than spend the rest of my life like this.

“I hardly think that’s true considering most of Emery’s closet is lined in gold.” I stand and step off the raised balcony. He watches me as I make my way over to the bar cart that holds another five empty bottles of wine. I dig through them, hoping to find another I haven’t already drained.

“Yes, a closet I have heard you pilfered half of.” He responds, his uninterested tone trailing off into a sigh as he watches me.

“Might as well look good if I am stuck in this hell hole.” I mutter under my breath. My hand drops in defeat at the collection of empty wine bottles.

None left.

“Need I remind you that you are here as a guest? You have nowhere to go. Your home was destroyed, your fiancé has been murdered, and you, my lady, are homeless. Would you rather I leave you to be taken by Noterran forces? Or would you prefer being dropped in the barren rubble that used to be Chatis?” I clench my teeth as I bite back the retort brewing in my mind.

I’d rather he be dropped under the rubble of the country he did nothing to save.

It’s been three months. Three months since Theo, Elaenor, and Donovan were supposed to make it to the border.

Donovan snuck me out of the castle during the location change from the infirmary, where I spent the better part of a month fighting for my life, to the dungeons.

As soon as I could stand and there was a plan to have me transferred, I was snuck away, strapped to Bijoy, and brought here.

That was four weeks after Rhea’s death, meaning I have been in Rakushia now for six months .

I guess I should be grateful I at least got to bring my horse, but all I can think of is Rhea.

Her head cleaved in two while she was trying to save Theo, just for him to die too.

Bile rises in my throat as I remember her eyes, open but unseeing.

The only reason we know Elaenor is alive is because of some bond or whatever Enzo seems to have with her.

The white streak in his hair spreads the closer he is to her, it’s a sign that she is connected to him or something.

No one really knows for sure. Enzo’s father knows a little about their connection, but even his knowledge is questionable.

He says one thing, only to contradict it later, as if he is just in the dark as we are.

Enzo’s lighter streak has been slowly darkening for days now, which we believe is a sign that Elaenor isn’t doing very well.

Either she has been moved and there is more and more distance between them, or her strength is failing.

He can’t even call out to her anymore, although he believes it has something to do with the drugs Tobias is pumping into her, and not that she is dead.

Enzo saw her memories the night it all happened.

It was during dinner, and one of the first and only nights I left my room.

He was fine throughout the first half of dinner, but suddenly started screaming.

He was grabbing his head, pulling his hair out from the roots as if he was trying to get rid of some unseen force.

His face was turning red from pain, his breathing ragged, and then it was gone just as fast as it came on.

He saw through her eyes. She was screaming, and somehow her mind connected to his, allowing him to see and feel what she was in that moment.

He said he saw her kneeling on the ground in the throne room with Theo and Donovan’s heads laying on the marble, blood pooling everywhere and soaking into her dress as she’s forced to stay on the floor.

He hasn’t been able to connect to her since.

I am grateful that Elaenor is alive, that Tobias hasn’t killed her…

yet. It means we have a chance at saving her, but all I can think of is the cost. What is the cost of her survival?

I love her, she is my best friend, but all I can think of is who’s next to be sacrificed because of her?

And for what? What is the purpose in all of this?

Theo is gone. Rhea is gone. Donovan is gone.

Who’s next ?

I step away from the bar cart and drop onto the sofa, pinching the bridge of my nose. I can’t think of any of this right now. I can’t allow myself to succumb to the emotions that are just one second away from destroying me.

I need more wine, or something stronger.

“Scarlett,” I can hear his footsteps seconds before the cushion next to me dips down.

“I know this has been a really hard few months for you. I sympathize. I want nothing more than to rescue Elaenor and put an end to Tobias and his men. But we are at a standstill. We have no idea where she is, what is happening to her, or what to do.” I drop my hand and meet his gaze.

His eyes have lightened, their normal bright green is gray today, saddened.

While his face is freshly shaved, I can tell he feels anything but fresh.

Bruises bloom under his eyes, a sign he hasn’t been sleeping.

None of us have. But that doesn’t change our current reality, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing we do will change her life.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” I wanted venom to coat my tongue, but a broken, child-like voice comes out instead, revealing how I truly feel.

Weak and powerless.