Chapter 13
Thirteen
- MARCELLA -
“Shouldn’t I be…I don’t know? Getting some sleep before the first day of trials tomorrow?” I growl, flicking a glare back and forth between Devin and Cyrus.
Devin responds, “You mentioned being suspicious of Lyra. And those suspicions were unfounded. Are you sure it had nothing to do with the fact you two have never gotten along well?”
I narrow my eyes, but before I can speak, Cyrus says, “Easy, Devin. If she had a feeling, it was only fair we explored it. I trust her.”
Devin narrows his eyes at me. Clearly communicating that though Cyrus trusts me, he doesn’t. Which is fine. I owe him nothing. He’s not the one who might be able to free my brother. And his constant condescending tone toward me has me itching to fix it.
But I couldn’t specifically tell them why I found Lyra suspicious. She saw me take that knife weeks ago and hadn’t reported it. Annoyingly kept trying to help me in etiquette lessons, and kept trying to connect with me.
Either she’s a sneaky rat, or she’s just an overbearing, kind fool who doesn’t know when to quit.
But I wouldn’t be the one to condemn her by sharing my suspicions if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain—I hoped they’d find their own facts.
And now that it’s yielded nothing, I’m back to square one.
Perhaps sitting and listening in on conversations isn’t enough. Admittedly, it was probably the easiest way for me to do things, but seeing as it’s been unsuccessful, I might be forced to change my angle to something I’m not particularly looking forward to.
But with tomorrow’s trial, I’ll have no choice.
“Was there anyone else you felt was suspicious?” Cyrus asks me. “Anything odd you noticed or heard?”
I shake my head. “No, honestly—”
Devin blows out a breath loud enough to interrupt me. When I turn to him, his arms are tight over his chest. “She’s wasting our time.”
“It’s a delicate balance trying to gain insight while not blowing my cover,” I growl at him.
“Well, you’ve never been one for balancing now, have you?” he puffs.
He’s pushing me on purpose, testing my limits.
And I’m about to pummel him just to teach him to respect me.
As I take a few steps toward him, Cyrus slides between us.
Thunder growing in his voice as he warns, “Both of you settle down. Devin, stop antagonizing her. Marcella, how do you anticipate a new strategy?”
I shift my gaze to meet Cyrus’. “I’ll get closer to them. I’ll befriend them. That seems to be the only way I’ll be able to get a sense of who might be here for the wrong reasons.”
“Well, then. I think you’re dismissed for the night.
I’d like you to get as much rest as you can before tomorrow,” Cyrus says, and fixes Devin with a look.
“And Devin, from here out you’re responsible for Marcella’s well-being.
That includes her safety, as well as her succession through the trials. Is that clear?”
I try not to snicker as I look at Devin. Even more so at the tension ticking in his jaw, like he’s fighting to not refuse. But to my surprise, he dips his head firmly and moves to escort me out.
I ask, “Cyrus, what are the trials tomorrow? Can you at least tell me that much?”
“He doesn’t know,” Devin interjects quickly, and brushes past my shoulder until I move for the door.
“Should I be concerned what it is?” I ask, tossing my glance from Devin to Cyrus, then back again.
“No harm shall come to you, Marcella Briarstone,” Cyrus whispers as Devin hurries me out the door and closes it behind us.
I glare at Devin as we fall into step back down the hallway. “What do you know of it, then? Tell me.”
Devin’s narrowed eyes slide to me. “Keep walking.”
“Well, if it’s something dangerous, I imagine you wouldn’t want your little spy to be killed, now would you? Even if Cyrus didn’t command you to protect me, who else would be able to get close enough to the women to figure out who’s here under false pretenses?”
He grumbles, “All you need to worry about is making sure the other ladies don’t catch onto what you’re truly here for.”
“Perhaps I let them in on our little secret then, if you aren’t willing to share any information.”
He whips to me, eyes full of threat. His forearm braces against my throat, the golden vambrace cold against my neck as he rushes me back to the wall. My back slams against it as he pins me there.
Leaning forward, he hisses, “This is your first and last warning: you will not threaten this plan. This is not some silly little game. If I find you’ve done anything to undermine everything we’ve worked for, you will be six feet under.
Alive until you cannot take a single breath more. Is that clear?”
I can’t help the small laugh bubbling up my chest as I meet his gaze.
He presses his forearm into my throat harder, making it difficult to croak out, “So aggressive, Devin. It’s disappointing, isn’t it?
That you have to lean on violence just to get your point across.
Are you not able to rely on your words alone? ”
His eyes narrow, but he drops his arm. My smile grows—I’ve struck a nerve in him. Whatever is between us only sours with time.
“What would Cyrus think, if he knew of this little,” I flick a finger back and forth between us, “encounter we just had?”
“You wouldn’t,” he spits at the ground.
There’s a certain pleasure I find in this triumph. Snorting, I walk down the hall, not waiting for him to lead. Ignoring the lingering ache in my throat from the weight of his vambrace, I keep my chin held high.
His footsteps are close behind me. “You’ll be sure to remember the only reason you’re here is that I reluctantly agreed with Cyrus on your assignment. That can change quickly.”
I laugh, slowing my pace to look over my shoulder at him before I turn the corner into the hallway housing my room.
“Why is it I know your word means next to nothing, Devin? Even if you had refused, you’d have no power compared to Cyrus’ wishes.
If he weren’t king, he’d still outmatch a man as pathetic as you. ”
He’s quietly fuming when he strides past me, reaching for my door and pushing it open. Once I’m in, I turn to face him as he pulls the door toward him. Just before it closes completely, he whispers into the crack, “Make sure you crawl.”