CHAPTER THIRTY ISI #2
I retreated to my bedroom and knelt beside my bed, pulling out the loose floorboard I’d discovered years ago.
My childhood hiding spot still held treasures, including a broken necklace from my deceased grandmother, a few coins I’d hoarded, and wrapped in a cloth was a small knife Thorne had given me on my fifteenth birthday.
In the bathing chamber, I studied the grate near the ceiling.
It appeared too small for me to fit through, but large enough to pass a message if I could reach someone on the other side.
If Pherin returned. If Mae could get inside my rooms, I’d enlist her help.
Too many ifs.
I tucked the knife into my boot. It wouldn’t be enough to fight my way past guards, but it did give me options.
I returned to the sitting room, finding two guards now stationed inside. Faint voices in the hall reached me, guards talking about Trew being locked up tight in the dungeon.
“Water,” I said, making my voice crack. “Please. I need water.”
The younger guard hesitated, then moved toward the side table where a pitcher sat.
The older one’s attention followed him.
Half a second. That’s all the opening gave me, but I memorized it. If I could create a larger distraction and make them both move at once…
But then what? I’d never make it past the guards in the corridor. And even if I did, I’d risk my father hurting Trew.
I perched onto the settee, curling my hands into fists on my thighs.
Think, Isi. Think.
Father wanted me compliant at the altar.
He wanted me to stand like a proper princess and accept my fate.
Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to run, to do anything but submit.
But submission could be a weapon too. If I played the broken daughter and let them think I’d given up, they might lower their guard.
The wedding would be held in the garden, an open space with multiple exits and guests who might be sympathetic to a princess being forced into marriage.
And if Pherin returned with help…
I couldn’t count on rescue, but I could position myself to take advantage of any opportunity that rose.
I got up and strode into my bedroom, the guards’ eyes tracking me, settling on the bed with a blank journal and pencil to take notes.
I drew diagrams of the garden where my father thought he could force me to marry Lord Alfred.
Then I studied everything, noting potential weaknesses and coming up with various plans I could put into place when my moment came.
As dawn lightened the sky, I hid the journal and lay on my bed fully clothed.
I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing Trew’s face as they dragged him away, without hearing the promises we’d made to each other in the silence. But I also saw his confidence, his certainty that we’d make it through this.
I wouldn’t answer his vow with anything but strength.
I’ll always find you, he’d told me once.
I touched the striped stone in my pocket.
Hold on, I thought, sending the words out to him. Hold on, and I’ll find a way for us both.
The lock to my sitting room door turned, and I rose from the bed, determined to face whatever was coming with my chin lifted.
Mae entered with two other ladies I barely knew, their arms laden with fabric.
No Lexie. No Kerralyn.
My ribcage spasmed.
“My lady,” Mae said softly. “We’re here to prepare you for your wedding.”
I opened my mouth to ask about the others, but Mae’s gaze flicked toward the guards standing near the door, plus the new ones who’d come inside with my ladies.
She placed a finger to her lips, shaking her head.
She and the other ladies bustled me back into my bedroom and behind the screen. They moved around me, stripping off my simple tunic and pants. Once robed, they guided me into the bathing chamber that had no window. They settled me in the tub and began washing me.
Mae leaned close as she did my hair, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “I’ll try to help, but he’s watching me too.”
I caught her wrist, meeting her eyes. “Lexie and Kerralyn?”
“Safe,” she breathed. “Going about their duties without scrutiny.”
Relief flooded me, followed immediately by calculation. If they were alive and could freely roam the castle, they’d act.
“The ceremony will still be held in the garden?” I asked. It would be like my father to change the location but not tell me.
Mae nodded.
Open space. Multiple exits. And if Father thought me broken enough, fewer guards than he’d actually need.
“I’m not going to run,” I said loudly enough for even the guards to hear. The lie came easily. “I just need to know that Blain is alive.”
Mae’s hands stilled in my hair. “He’s in the dungeon. I saw them bring him food this morning.” She paused. “I heard he asked about you.”
Pain lanced across my heart. “What did he say?”
“He wanted to know if you were hurt. If you were well.” Mae’s voice dropped even lower. “And I heard he smiled, my lady. Like a man who knows something no one else does. It startled the guards enough to make them gossip with the staff.”
Despite everything, warmth bloomed in my chest.
He had a plan. Or he trusted me to have one. Either way, he wasn’t giving up and neither would I.
I nodded.
After, I took a towel and dried myself, dressing in undergarments without help.
Then they brought out the wedding gown.
I stared at it, bile scorching the back of my throat.
The dress was hideous. Deliberately so, if I knew my wretched father.
Heavy fabric, restrictive boning, and a neckline so high it would choke me if I moved wrong.
Pearls and lace covered every bit of the surface, weighing it down until I’d barely be able to move.
Long sleeves buttoned at the wrists would hide my skin from view.
Modest. Virginal. A costume designed to hide the “shame” of my compromised state.
Father had chosen it specifically to punish me.
I let them dress me like a doll, much like they’d dressed me like a doll on each Day of Mercy.
Mae arranged my hair, weaving it into an elaborate style that pulled at my scalp. Her hands trembled as she worked.
“Your man loves you,” she whispered, so low I almost missed it. “I see it in how he looks at you.”
Something broke deep inside me, and tears seeped out. “I’m…afraid,” I whispered. It would be wrong not to admit it. “But I will not relent. I will not comply.”
“You’re strong,” she whispered back. “You’ll find a way.” The exchange steadied me, pushing me toward the possibilities racing through my mind.
I wasn’t going to stand at that altar like a tiny creature led to slaughter.
“Mae,” I breathed, barely audible. “The knife you used to carry at your side. Do you still have it?”
Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their work. When she reached for another pin on the table, she slipped the small blade into my right pocket.
Our eyes met in the mirror. Hers were wet with unshed tears.
“I can’t stand that this is happening.”
I gave her the smallest nod. I had two blades now. I had my training. And I had a will that wouldn’t break.
When she’d finished, she turned me toward the mirror. A stranger stared back at me. Pale face. Hollow eyes. My hair had been pulled back so severely it changed the shape of my face.
My new mask, though not the one of vengeance I’d envisioned.
The dress had transformed me into someone I didn’t recognize. Someone obedient.
Broken.
Except I wasn’t broken, and I refused to let my father destroy me.
I reached into the pocket of my discarded pants, retrieving the striped stone Trew had given me. Smooth and cool against my palm, it was a tangible reminder that he existed, that what we had was real.
I slipped the stone into my wedding dress pocket.
My ladies urged me out into the sitting area, where the guards looked at anything but me. Were they feeling guilty for their involvement in this? I hoped so.
The door opened, and Father stepped inside the room, dressed in formal robes, his face full of cold satisfaction.
“It’s time,” he said.
I didn’t move.
He crossed the room and latched onto the same arm he’d bruised last night hard enough to make me gasp.
Oh how I wanted to pull a blade and wrench it across his throat.
Soon. I would end this soon.
“Walk,” he snarled. “Or I’ll have you dragged.”
For Trew, I walked.
He kept his hand on my arm as we left my chambers, his fingers digging in with every step. A promise of violence if I tried to flee.
Guards fell into step behind us. Ahead of us too.
Mae and the other ladies followed at a distance, their faces carefully blank.
The corridors passed in a blur. Servants lined the walls, watching with avid interest as the disgraced princess was marched to her forced wedding.
I caught sight of myself in a polished shield hanging on the wall. The stranger in the wedding dress looked small. Crushed. Good, my projection was working.
Inside, my rage burned.
I was walking to the altar, but I would not allow him to make me his sacrifice.
I would find a way out of this.
And if I couldn’t?
I’d kill Lord Alfred before the day was through.