21. Chapter Twenty-One Rhea
Chapter Twenty-One: Rhea
C andles are lit all around the lower level of the tower the next night as I wait to hear the knocks on the door from the guard. He had dropped a note off this morning claiming he was happy I accepted his groveling and to expect him this evening. Since he already knows about Bella, I don’t make her move from her spot on the floor next to the couch. Her head is propped up on her crossed front paws, taking away from the vicious image she had portrayed the last time Flynn was here.
“We need to be nice to him when he comes over. Okay, Bella?” She opens one eye to look at me, the act making me smile. “He might be the key to our escape,” I confess in a hushed voice, like I’m worried my secrets will be carried on the wind directly into the king’s ear. I’m not taking chances either way.
My nervous energy has me pacing back and forth, the old wood floors creaking with my steps. Anticipation at what I plan to do eats at me. I’m doing what I have to in order to escape, something I know Alexi would be proud of me for. I also remind myself that earning the guard’s trust enough to get him talking about where other guards are stationed and their shifts around the tower, as well as the king’s schedule, might take time.
There is a part of me that mourns the opportunity to have a real friend for the first time in my life. Though maybe I can still get practice with talking to others and building my social skills, even if it is under false pretenses with Flynn. I clear my throat, thinking about how odd it is to refer to him by something other than “the guard.”
His knocks on the door pull me from my thoughts as my heart unceremoniously kicks up its beats. Blowing out a breath, I roll my shoulders back and plaster on the best semblance of a smile I can, while knowing on the inside that I am pretending. No, that I am lying. And while something small inside of me dies a little at that admission, it’s not enough to stop me from doing what I need to.
Pulling the door open, I’m first hit with his scent. That unique crisp aroma that somehow smells like fallen leaves. It knocks me off balance, and just as I’m about to pull myself together again, the door opens the rest of the way. The composure that I worked so hard to craft starts cracking when his face comes into the light, a grin stretching his full lips. His dark eyes gleam with the reflection of the firelight from the torch in the hallway. He lifts a cocky brow as if he somehow knows he’s thrown me off course. Both of his hands are behind his back, and I have an indescribable urge to reach around and grab them to see what he’s hiding. Focus.
“Hello, Rhea,” he says, and my body shivers in response. My name on his lips shouldn’t be an experience that leaves my knees weak. If he notices my reaction, he doesn’t show it. “Can I come in?” he requests, his deep voice like dark chocolate melting on my tongue.
Gulping faintly, I step out of the way and open the door wider. Flynn’s impressive frame crosses through the doorway, and he immediately looks to Bella, his movements slowing until he’s standing a few feet away from her. “She won’t bite you,” I declare, closing the door. “Unless she thinks you are a threat, of course,” I tack on as I move to stand next to him.
“A threat to you or to her?”
“Both,” I clarify with a grin that is a bit more real than I mean it to be. Clearing my throat, I motion to where he still holds his hands behind his back. “I was told that there would be treats for me as part of your groveling.”
He laughs at my boldness but moves to set two small white bags down on the table. His large hands then start unbuckling the leather straps at his side that hold the chest and back pieces of his armor. He is actually wearing it today.
“What are you doing?” I ask slowly, eyeing his motions like he’s planning to strip everything off in front of me. Would that be so awful? The shift in my thoughts momentarily shocks me before I shake my head, as if to dissipate an imaginary fog.
He pauses, looking over at me with a wry smile. “Would it bother you if I took this armor off? It’s just incredibly uncomfortable and limits my movements.”
“Are you expecting to need your full range of motion while you are here, Flynn?” I ask in amusement. He stills as soon as his name is past my lips, his eyes fluttering shut for a split second before he’s back to unbuckling his armor again. The moment was so quick that I briefly wonder if I imagined it. Did I say something wrong?
When he gets the three straps on his other side undone, he lifts the golden armor over his head and leans it up against the stone wall. Next, he unstraps his sword and lays it beside his armor. Even without the bulkiness of that little bit of armor, he still fills the room how I imagine a warrior would from the books I’ve read. The black tunic he wears does nothing to hide his muscular physique. I quickly draw my eyes away as he turns to walk to the couch and takes a seat like it’s the most natural place in the world for him to be. Meanwhile, I stay standing where I am, a bit dumbfounded as I watch him pull the bags on the table closer. He starts unraveling the rolled paper material of one until it’s open.
“I brought something for your fox? Is it okay for me to give it to her?”
“You brought something for Bella?” I stupidly repeat.
His eyes crinkle as his laugh weaves into the darkness between us. “I did. I hope that is okay?” At that Bella perks her ears up and lifts her head. Her snout starts making sniffing noises before she stands up fully and walks cautiously towards him. “Can she understand what we’re saying?” he asks with a curious look.
I’m still standing like an idiot with my mouth open, hands on my hips, as I surmise that I’ve lost control of the situation. I’m not sure I ever had it to begin with. Without waiting for me to answer, Flynn takes out a small cookie from the bag and holds it out to Bella in his massive palm.
“It’s a cookie made with ingredients safe for animals. The bakery mostly caters to domesticated dogs and cats, but there should be no reason that your fox—Bella—can’t have one.” I watch as Bella waits all of two seconds before she takes the treat from his hand with her mouth. Her tail wags joyfully as she chews. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I told her to be nice to him. “I think she likes it,” he grins, reaching out to scratch under her chin. I expect her to back away or move her head out of his grasp, but the fox instead leans into his touch.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I grumble under my breath as he pulls out another cookie. When she’s finished all of the ones in the bag, she contentedly lays on the ground near his side of the couch. My eyes narrow at her, and I mouth the word “traitor” as she watches me walk over to take a seat on the couch. She huffs a breath and then lays her head down, apparently not caring for my theatrics and ready for a nap now that her belly is full. “So this was your plan,” I say as I take a seat a few feet away from him, “to feed my fox treats so she would like you? Then when you inevitably do something to upset me again, she won’t attack you?”
Flynn barks out a laugh, pulling the other bag closer on the white table. “More or less,” he responds, smiling proudly and then adding, “though I’m hoping not to make you upset in the first place.”
I can see the truth of his words when his eyes meet mine, the glowing sincerity in them playing with an unfair advantage in what is supposed to be my game of pretend. He laughs again as I groan; he likely finds the exasperation in it funny, while I’m just trying to regain my equilibrium around him.
“Have you ever had a triple-chocolate brownie?” He pulls out a rectangular dessert from the bag and hands it to me. I try to ignore the way my skin tingles with awareness when our fingers brush.
“I haven’t,” I reply, holding the treat up close to my face as I eye it. Chocolate chunks in three different colors are layered throughout, the candlelight surrounding us making them all glisten.
“These aren’t quite as good as the ones back home, but they are a pretty close second,” he says before taking half his brownie with one bite. From the corner of my eye, I find myself briefly watching his tan jaw work as he chews before hastily turning my attention back to my own brownie. Taking a small bite, I nearly gasp as the brownie begins to melt in my mouth. Flynn laughs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “That is the smallest bite I have ever seen someone take out of one of these,” he says jovially, and his delight is nearly enough to bring a smile to my own face. “What do you think?” he inquires after a few moments.
I hum, closing my eyes as I continue chewing, slowly savoring each and every flavor that plays on my tongue. It’s so decadent and rich that I’m not sure I’ll taste anything as good ever again. When I’m finished with my bite, I have to restrain myself from taking another before I answer him. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever had before. It might be even better than lemon loaf, and I really thought nothing could top that.”
He beams at me, somehow looking even more defined and handsome under the flickering gleam of the candles. A ridiculous part of me suddenly wishes I could spend my days just studying his face. I imagine I wouldn’t ever find a single flaw. But that is not what my future holds. Cold realization brings me back to the present moment and my end goal. I need to befriend this guard only so that I can get any information he might have that could help me escape, nothing more. I set the brownie down, knowing I will get completely lost in its chocolatey goodness and abandon everything else if I continue indulging.
“You said these aren’t as good as the ones back home. Where is home for you?” I query.
He turns and looks at me from where he is leaning forward, tossing the second half of the brownie into his mouth. He chews so incredibly slow that, for a moment, I wonder if I’ve upset him with my question. If asking this was a social faux pas somehow. When he finishes his bite, his tongue darts out slightly to lick away any chocolate at the seam of his lips. I track the movement, fighting the urge to mimic it with my own tongue. My eyes move slowly back up to his, and I nearly gasp at what I see reflected in his gaze. He’s looking at me how the characters in my romance novels describe their lovers’ gazes before passion consumes them . His irises are like liquid slate, threatening to devour me wholly from the intensity in them. Shadows from the candlelight writhe on the walls as a thick and heady tension between us keeps building.
Seconds or hours pass—I’m not entirely sure which—before he responds, the deep rasp in his voice igniting a new flame within me. “How about a question for a question?” he counters.
My lips purse together, wondering if it’s smart to agree to answer anything he might ask. In the end though, my curiosity can’t deny him. “Deal. Answer me first,” I command, giving him what is supposed to be a hard look.
He smiles, like I’ve just given him an amazing compliment instead of an order. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about Flynn—he is never bothered by me in any way. I’m sometimes short in my answers, sometimes awkward, but each time he just looks at me like it’s normal. Like he’s totally unaffected by the fact that he’s talking with a girl who can literally count on one hand the men she’s had any length of conversation with. The butterflies that never disappear when I’m around him respond in kind.
“Home for me is east, out near the edges of the forest.” He looks towards the library as he answers.
I hear longing in his voice, and I wonder if he must be from one of those outpost border towns I had read about. “Do you get to go home often?” I ask.
He leans back against the couch, crossing an ankle over his knee with the kind of confidence that definitely makes that flame inside me grow larger. “That is two questions, Sunshine. Time to answer one of mine.” The nickname rolls off of his tongue way too easily, and I don’t know if I absolutely love or loathe it.
“Sunshine?” I repeat, an eyebrow raised as I subtly angle my body closer to his without a second thought.
“Yes. Now answer my question.” He fights back a smile when I scoff at him. He stretches an arm out along the back of the couch and taps his long fingers there. “You said before that you hadn’t stepped past the doorway. Did you mean that it has been awhile? Or did you mean ever ?”
Of all the things I was expecting him to ask, that was definitely not one of them. The air feels thinner, like I can’t quite grasp it enough to take a breath. He watches my reaction, probably wondering why I’m stalling. In truth, I’m calculating the risk of telling him. After a moment, I determine there really isn’t anything he can gain from knowing that I haven’t left this prison at all. “I have never left this tower,” I reveal quietly, shrugging and dropping my gaze to my hands in my lap.
“Ever?” he asks incredulously.
I nod, taking a breath before continuing, “Alexi told me that after my parents were murdered, my uncle placed me in this tower under the guise of protection. That the people who murdered them—mages, he claims—had come for me as well.” Flynn lets out an irritated noise, drawing my attention. He clears his throat, looking somewhat surprised at himself, before he gestures for me to continue. “Of course, you already know what he’s told the kingdom as I’ve gotten older. But I have never left. When he visits—” I cut myself off there, realizing the guard—Flynn—doesn’t need to know those details. “When I was a child, I had maids taking care of me here, but eventually the king ordered them to stop coming. Alexi stepped in when he saw that the king wasn’t giving me an education or really any of the basic necessities beyond keeping me alive. Once I became an adult, he kept coming because I was so lonely.” This feels much harder to talk about than I ever thought it would, though I suppose this is the first time I’ve ever talked about it at all with someone else.
“Did King Dolian ever wonder how you learned to do all of the things Alexi taught you?” Flynn asks gently.
“No, he hasn’t exactly spent time getting to know me. He mostly— It’s not important,” I choke out quickly. I dare another look at Flynn to see if I can gauge what he’s feeling.
Disbelief. Pure disbelief contorts the features of his face. His muscles are wound tight as he holds himself still, like he wants to jump off of this couch and hold someone responsible for what I’ve just said. “That’s why he was leaving his post,” he murmurs under his breath, avoiding my eyes. I study his profile, seeing something flash too quickly in his expression for me to comprehend.
“That was three questions from you by the way. You are now in my debt,” I tease, smirking as I look him over.
Flynn smiles and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the locks back and holding them there for a moment before dropping his hand and letting the waves tumble back forward. “Eager to know more about me, Sunshine?” he provokes with a cocky grin.
“Perhaps I’m just trying to gauge whether or not I should still have Bella attack you?” His laugh is sultry, not at all threatened by my words. It could have something to do with the fact that Bella is happily sleeping at his feet. “And that is another question that you’ve added to your debt.”
“Ruthless,” he chides, though he looks transfixed as he watches me chew on my lower lip. I run through a list of things I should ask him, yet there is only one thing I really want to know at this moment, and imprudently, it has nothing to do with my escape.
“Did you ever talk with Alexi?” I ask quietly, a sharp hurt digging into my stomach. When Flynn doesn’t respond, I wonder if that was a stupid question. It definitely was a heavier one than I think he was expecting.
“I didn’t talk with him.” His answer is solemn when he turns to face me fully on the couch. “Before he—before I came into this new position,” he starts carefully, “I was stationed on guard duty near the front of the castle. My job was to walk the grounds out front during the day. Alexi was stationed here, so our paths just never crossed.” I nod my head, settling back down in my seat and angling my body to face him. “But there was one time that I saw him get into a fight with someone.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “What? Really?”
“Yeah,” he answers, huffing out a laugh before continuing. “I was eating breakfast in the mess hall. It was my first year in the guard. I didn’t hear the words said, but something set Alexi off.”
I shake my head in awe. Alexi was always level-headed and calm with me. Nothing ever seemed to get a rise out of him. I know I had thrown many tantrums that ended in me giving up because he would just stare at me, unmoving in his resolve. “What happened?” I ask, my fingers absent-mindedly finding the ends of my hair and twirling them.
Flynn smiles faintly, looking down at his legs for a moment as he relives the memory. “He just started swinging, connecting every shot he aimed for this guy. Over and over until, finally, a few of the younger guys pulled him off. After he assured the guys holding him back that he was calm, Alexi walked over to the guard he was fighting and squatted down to him.” I tilt towards Flynn, anxious to glean something new about Alexi—wanting to know what he was like outside of this tower. “He leaned in close to the other guard, but didn’t lower his voice. It was like he was broadcasting it for everyone to hear. Alexi told him that if he ever heard anything as vile about ‘her’ again, he would make sure the man was no longer fit to work as a guard. I wonder if he was talking about you.” His eyes hold mine, something new and fragile feels built between us—a bridge, perhaps, of understanding.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I say, “He could have been talking about Alanna, his wife. She passed away in an accident many years ago.”
Flynn nods, rubbing a hand over his jaw. To learn something unexpected about Alexi—even something so trivial, it loosens something in me. It’s like letting a different sort of comfort slip through the tiny cracks in my armor, smoothing along their jagged edges.
“Alexi is the one who brought Bella to me,” I confide as I lean my shoulder back against the couch and fully face Flynn. His arms fold over his chest as he adjusts so that he faces me as well. We mirror each other—our knees just delicately brushing. “I was seventeen, and he just walked in with her one night,” I say, smiling vaguely at the memory. “He said he found her hiding in the flowers near the tower and that he just had a feeling that she was different. She’s always been very keen—very aware. You would assume a wild animal would suffocate in this tower, but she doesn’t mind it much now.” I look at her sleeping form next to Flynn’s boots, memories of that first night together a welcome reprieve.
“Now? Was it hard for her at first?” he asks.
“She would lay around most of the day like she was sick almost. I felt guilty.” I pause as the happy memories melt away and are replaced with one of the night that I had made her leave the tower. “I still do. She deserves better than being trapped here with me,” I whisper before wincing, not meaning to speak those words out loud. They feel too personal, too close to letting this stranger in. I can feel my small smile turn into a frown, the rare moment of genuine happiness fading. Flynn bumps his knee into mine playfully, drawing my gaze back up to his and stopping my emotional spiral into the darkness in its tracks.
“Do you want to talk more about him?” he inquires softly. But this already feels more personal than I ever intended this night to go.
“Maybe another time,” I respond quietly. He nods as a different sort of tension thickens the air. It’s not fully uncomfortable but instead a mutual understanding that sometimes things are too complicated to talk about. Even if, deep down, we have the desire to do so.
“I know I’m in your debt question-wise then, but I do have one that I need to know the answer to desperately.”
“Okay,” I respond slowly, watching him. He pinches his lips together like he is fighting off a smile, and a small part of me dislikes that because his smile is like a beacon. I can’t help but be drawn to it, to indulge in it.
“Where does Bella go to the bathroom?”
“What?” I screech, rearing my head back.
He laughs as a true smile breaks across his face. And despite still feeling buried under the rubble of everything that has happened, starting with Alexi’s death, I smile a little too. His eyes immediately dart to my mouth, his own grin faltering for a moment before he looks back up to me. Magnets—it truly is like magnets how often I find myself wanting to get lost in the dark depths of his gaze. I am not sure what that says about me, or if this is a normal reaction, because I have never felt this way before. While Alexi’s presence was paternal and kind, Flynn’s is so much more. And as each layer of protection that I have placed around my heart starts to crack and shift at his nearness, I realize that he makes me feel a multitude of things. He gently bumps my knee again with his, and I remember I still haven’t answered him.
“She’s trained to use the toilet,” I say, nonchalantly lifting a shoulder. Flynn’s eyes grow wide before he looks at Bella.
“Truly? That’s incredible!” he exclaims, an almost childlike wonder crossing his handsome features.
I study his profile and the way the candlelight dances on each plane of his face. In the depths of my mind, I wonder what it would be like to drag my fingers over the smooth skin there. And then I shake my head at that thought because it’s so far-fetched. Not to mention forbidden. Completely and utterly forbidden.
He studies Bella for a minute longer before he sighs. “I should go,” he states, standing up and walking over to where his armor is.
I watch as he buckles the cuirass in place and secures his sheathed golden sword back around his waist. The metal gleams in the dancing firelight as I join him, the two of us walking beside each other to the door. He opens it and steps across the threshold, turning to face me.
“So, was my groveling enough?” he asks in a low voice, a teasing expression pulling on his brows and mouth. My heart skips a beat at his words and my perceived intention behind them. I must be misinterpreting something, but that look in his eye— Clearing my throat, I paste on a look of indifference that I definitely don’t feel.
“I suppose if Bella is happy with your apology, then I am as well,” I answer, gesturing towards her. We both look into the living area to find Bella sleeping peacefully on the floor.
“Then I will consider this a successful night. Goodnight, Sunshine.”
“I don’t know if I like that nickname,” I retort, watching as he walks to the stairs. He laughs, the sound tickling my ears until a grin of my own breaks free.
When I can’t hear his steps anymore, I close the door and take a moment to just stand there. I inhale a true deep breath for the first time in weeks. My mind whirls with indecision now on my plan to use Flynn for information, especially after how easily that excuse crumbled when he was near. The only thing I know for certain at this moment is that he will either be my downfall or my salvation.