Chapter 38 #4
“They’re going to find me,” I threaten. “But know that when your time comes, it will be at my hand.” My vision blurs and my heart squeezes because it knows, I know, what comes next.
My magic manifests weakly as I channel every ounce of emotion within me.
Anger, fear, exhaustion, anything. A small flame flickers from my fingers before quickly wicking out.
“Best to clip those wings,” the Carver says before making his move.
He reaches out to restrain me but I duck and roll, my back hitting the cabinets.
A kitchen knife rattles next to me and I snatch it before lunging forward at his abdomen.
I manage to nick his side as I spin to land another strike on his shoulder.
The Carver lands a punch to my stomach and I lose air.
My vision already started failing at the expense of magic so it takes everything within me to stay upright.
“Rolan is expecting you back. You’re the guest of honor, birdy,” he snickers, pushing chairs aside to clear the space. This feels like a predator playing with his prey. I hold the knife in front of me, poised to attack.
Offense, not defense.
“Why me?” I demand as he begins pacing the room. I evaluate my exits. With the magical door gone and the front door being inaccessible, I only have the window above the sink. The spells obviously died with Grace.
Another soldier, high ranking as well, enters the kitchen. She’s younger than my aggressor and vaguely familiar.
“Lady Elivienne.” She bows. “General Schelle. I’m sure you do not remember me, but I work primarily with the king on matters of the state and war planning.”
“Thanks for the introduction.”
Schelle smiles tersely, looking to the Carver. “Wait outside.”
“I would say now is a bad time for conversation,” I goad, eyes darting to the window. Schelle takes a seat on the one unbroken chair in Grace’s kitchen.
“Is it? My apologies on your treatment. King Rolan had no knowledge of the extent of your… punishment. Trust that the king is ready to make a deal with you.”
She cannot be serious. Considering Rolan was there for half of my torture, I want to break into laughter at this apology.
“My punishment? Why am I being punished? Why am I being held? I am not a citizen of Duresden. Your quarrel is higher than me.”
“Semantics. Regardless, King Rolan has graciously offered you one last chance to change the fate of Lux. Surrender yourself to King Rolan, pledge your fealty to Duresden’s claim of Lux’s land and forgo all relations with the court of Lux.
You will marry Rolan to provide an heir.
Your Nyxian line will be safe and secure under his reign. ”
My face hides no emotion. Has this been about ownership all along? No, he wants something from me. The sounds of soldiers flooding the town bring my attention to the war raging outside these four walls.
“You must be out of your mind. I’m promised and bonded to King Cedric. My allegiance lies with Lux.”
“Promised but not married. Bonded but that, too, can be broken. If you do not accept His Majesty’s deal, he will raze Lux to the ground and spare no one. Lady Elivienne, you are smart. Rolan offers you a life of comfort. You two spent your upbringing together.”
“What does he want from me?”
Schelle crosses her legs and readjusts. “I told you. Allegiance and an heir.”
“Doesn’t he have a wife?”
“Queen Kaelie passed a year ago, rest her soul, but she was not fit for this role. Rolan desires someone with a proper upbringing and a pure bloodline.”
“A Nyxian bloodline,” I state. Pieces begin to fit together. Rolan is working with some rebel force that has yet to go public. I am their bargaining piece. “Why the Nyxians?”
“Dissent is the best port for invasion. And their connection to the ancient ways, of course.”
And I know that Cedric would hear them out, for their land and status if they came forward.
“You understand, then.” Schelle stands, brushing dust from her pants. “Though, do not be mistaken. We could take you by force.”
Calls for help and shuffling outside the townhouse remind me of where we are.
Adrian is on the border of Lux and Duresden.
The people here are cess and focus primarily on healing.
They’re not meant for combat. These people – my people – are being killed outside the door and I am worried about who I am to marry.
Cedric is on his way. He couldn’t be that far from here, but…
Children begin screaming. Their voices, pitched high, shake my core and my stomach lurches. This can’t go on any longer. They’re going to either take me and go to war with Lux or I can go willingly.
I won’t be captured this time.
I won’t allow anyone else to lose their lives for me.
I am not a cause.
Blasts shake the ground and plaster dust falls to the ground. My fist slams on the table. “Make it stop! Stop hurting them!” I roar, moving to exit the room but the Carver stands in the doorway, crossing his arms.
“This could all go away,” he says, flicking dust from his shirt. “Though I’d much prefer to take you unwillingly.” His smile makes my body plunge into ice.
“Stop them, please!” I plead, hearing blasts of magic decimate the town. “King Rolan promises that he will leave Lux untouched if I go with you? How can I influence the Nyxians?”
“Oh, you misunderstand. War goes on, Lady Elivienne. But we will approach it far more diplomatically should you surrender yourself.”
Crumbling outside the townhouse shakes the windows, a plume of dust blocks the view of the mountains. Adrian is falling.
I drop my knife.