Chapter 26 #3
“Which one of you idiots didn’t search them? Both of them?” Brynne yells. The guards fall silent, and the ones beside me awkwardly shift their weight on their feet.
“You thought you could hide this from me?” Brynne says, her eyebrow rising over the steely glare.
She points the tip of the blade at me, and I set my jaw, glaring back at her, trying not to give away the plan forming in my mind.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t remember you have it?
I was the one who told you to keep it, to bring it with you.
I guess you really did listen to anything I said.
Always the little girl that can’t think for herself, aren’t you? ”
If I do nothing, I might lose our only opportunity to keep a weapon. I once questioned if I could kill someone in cold blood, back when I thought Weston was the one threatening my life. But now I know I will fight for him, kill for him if I have to, because I know he would do the same for me.
Without taking my eyes off her, I shove my bound hands forward and grab her wrist, wrenching it down and stealing the dagger from her grasp.
The manacles make it difficult, but the element of surprise is on my side.
I flip the blade in my hand, turning it back on her, and step forward to strike at the break in her armor that I know is there from years of training.
All before my legs are swept out from under me, and my back slams into the ground, forcing every breath from my chest.
The commotion down the hall is barely a hum, overpowered by the wheezing from my throat as I suck air into my burning chest. Spots mar my vision, peppering Brynne’s face as she stands over me, a smug look spreading over her face.
She reaches down and plucks the dagger from my tense grip before sheathing it at her side.
“Well that was a neat new trick,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain.
“I guess I wasn’t the only one who learned some things during the time away.
” She glances back to Weston, before turning back to me, her lips pulling into a snide grin.
“Did your little lover teach you that move? Too bad it still isn’t enough.
You’re outnumbered here, princess.” She spits the last word at me, then gestures to the guards at my sides. “Get her up. Let’s move.”
Park and another man I don’t know hook their arms under mine and haul me to my feet.
Guthrie hovers near the group, a maniacal grin on his face as he watches the guards shove their shoulders into Weston, the points of their swords trained on him as they force him forward, back toward the door to the rest of the castle.
I work to keep up with them, my breath still not fully recovered, but my anger and worry for Weston keeps me on my feet. Brynne charges forward before us, storming through the dungeon and snapping more orders at the guards controlling Weston.
A hint of fear settles in my stomach, as I watch Weston walk ahead of me, but it slowly dissipates as I realize we are following the same path. They aren’t separating us. Wherever we are headed, we are going together.
We climb the steps, slinking farther into the castle and winding through dim corridors. An enormous set of stone stairs lies ahead, and a guard opens a thick wooden door at the top, letting light pours into the space.
Weston disappears through the doorway, along with the horde of guards around him, and the rest of us trail closely behind. I recognize where we are the moment I step into the main hall, and scan the area quickly, hoping someone, anyone, will walk through the halls and can get help.
But it’s empty.
“Move!” Brynne snaps, and strides down the hall. The guards shove Weston forward until we’re standing side by side, our bound hands in front of us. We fall into step behind her, and the footfalls from the group of guards echo in our wake.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I grumble to Weston, and he only grunts in response.
After admitting to me last night that he made a mistake showing his devotion to me, it’s clear he didn’t learn from it, or make any changes, and we can’t make anything worse.
We need to figure out how to get the upper hand.
“What do you expect me to do, nothing?” he growls.
“Stop talking!” Guthrie yells, and shoves Weston’s back from behind.
The silence is thick, marred only by our footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls as we walk deeper into the castle. Movement catches my eye, and I glance at the wall to find two of the older guards, ones I don’t know well, but I’ve seen around for years. Ones that would surely recognize me.
Their eyes widen as their gazes jump from me to Weston and back again, their lips forming a line as they take in the manacles at our wrists and the guards following us closely.
Their expressions betray nothing of what is going on in their minds, not an ounce of recognition of me, or him, or the scene unfolding before them.
The already deep pit in my stomach sinks even further.
Was no one truly ever sincere when they swore their oaths?
Was Weston the only one who cared so deeply about his duty?
How could we have never noticed? Everyone in the castle seemed happy, taken care of.
There were never complaints, fair wages, offered housing and accommodations.
The staff and guards chose to be here. No one was ever forced, and despite my father treating me poorly and unfairly, he never seemed to do the same with his people.
Why would they all turn on us?
“At least the sky is clear today,” Weston says suddenly, breaking me from my worries as his voice carries through the silent hallway.
I glance up at him, confused, when one guard behind us scoffs.
“How hard did you hit him?” he says with a laugh. “Sounds like you knocked some sense out of him, instead of into him.” There’s a chorus of snickers, and concern pushes my anger out of the way.
“Are you all right?” I whisper, trying to keep everything I’m feeling out of my voice. I know if he hears it, he will do even more to keep all the wrath of Brynne and the guards away from me, and directed at him. I can’t let that happen. I can’t watch them harm him, just for me.
My head swivels toward the wall of windows to our right, the overcast grey skies that blanket the kingdom the same as they are every day, then back to his stoic face.
He doesn’t answer, only keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, as trails of blood continue to flow down his face, drawing my attention to his clenched jaw.
Weston would never ignore me. What is going on?
Brynne leads us around a corner, and the back of my neck prickles. I know exactly where we are going, but I have no idea what is in store for us.
Just ahead are the thick, black, wooden doors I last stormed out of after my ceremony, and I haven’t been behind them since. For a time, I didn’t think I ever would again. It’s clear now, that worry did not come true.
Because now, we’re headed straight for the throne room.