Chapter 37 #2
“And I haven’t lived this long by trusting poisonous words that fall from pretty lips.”
“Is that what you think this is?” I scoff. “A good captor–bad captor routine? I’m not here to spy on you, you daft bastard. I came here to help.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
“I just do.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, forcing my hand not to drift toward my throat as the memory of my collar burns through my mind.
Xan’s quicksilver eyes flicker in the faint light, and his lip curls, baring the sharp points of his canines.
I clear my throat and glance away. “So will you let me?”
“Let you what?”
“Help you.”
He watches me wordlessly, and I stare back.
A drop of blood beads at his brow and drips to his cheek, making me wince.
Xan’s gaze doesn’t waver, but there is a shift in his expression, as if he’s deliberating silently.
The pause stretches, and I can’t help the flutter of unease in my chest as the rare moments I have left pass by.
I steel myself, pushing the thought away, but my mind drifts unbidden to Myna—the moment she appeared like a lifeline in the depths of my captivity.
I hadn’t questioned it then. Her extended hand had been enough, and I’d taken her help without hesitation, clinging to the hope she offered.
Would I have made the same choice if it had been a stranger extending that lifeline instead of her?
In my desperation to escape, I suspect any sense of caution would have been silenced.
Still, perhaps I was naive to believe he would so readily accept my help, without reason or a solid foundation of trust to rely on.
“All right, little bird.” Xan’s voice silences my thoughts. “If you manage to get me out of here, I suppose I can play along with this plan of yours.”
The door at the end of the corridor creaks open, and I freeze, relaxing when I hear Myna’s voice. She appears beside me a moment later.
“You need to go,” she murmurs. “Now.”
Knowing my time is well and truly up, I turn to leave, but I hesitate and glance back at Xan, wanting to extend an olive branch. A small offering for us to trust one another.
“The dagger belonged to my mother.”
A strange expression crosses his face, but I don’t have time to ponder it before Myna drags me from the cells.
I slink through the shadows of Santora, hiding in alleys and slipping past strangers. Even after the past couple of months, the cobbled streets and limestone facades are still so familiar to me, this path etched into my memory from the countless times I’ve walked it.
The pristine white houses and manicured courtyards of the royal isle pass by me in a blur as my feet carry me closer to the Palace of Sorrows.
I’m not certain of what my standing is now that I have returned from my mission, particularly since I wasn’t supposed to return at all.
Am I still Princess Aella Sotiría, or was that title stripped once again?
I’m sure the Eagle and his Owls are frantically trying to weave a believable tale over the mess this mission has made.
I’d carved myself a new goiteía earring when I made the concealment charm. But the familiar dark hue now tinting my hair doesn’t feel the same as it once did. It doesn’t feel like I’m keeping my identity a secret, but more like an attempt to hide from myself.
From everything that has happened.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts as the eastern gatehouse comes into view. Crouching down in my usual hiding spot behind the old potted apricot tree, I settle in as I wait for the guard to change over.
“What are we doing?” a voice whispers in my ear.
“Fuck!” The curse erupts from me before I can hold it back, and I have to duck behind the pot when the guards’ heads snap toward the sound.
I click my tongue, and Cinder screeches, soaring overhead toward the palace. He’d been waiting for me in my room when I returned from the cells, and I was grateful to have him watching my back.
Even if he was doing a terrible job of it.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I peer through the branches, sighing with relief as both the guards relax at the sight of the hawk.
Narrowing my eyes, I turn a glare on my shadow. A twinkling hazel gaze peers back at me.
“What are you doing, Nyssa?” I hiss.
“Following you, obviously.” She shrugs and then looks at me expectantly.
I bite down hard on my lip to hold back the torrent of expletives that threaten to unleash. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deep. I only open them again when my heart is finally beating at a normal pace. “You scared the absolute shit out of me.”
“I know,” she says with a grin. “But back to my original question. Are we sneaking into the palace?”
“I am sneaking into the palace. You are going to turn around and head back to the Aviary.”
A contemplative look crosses her face, and for a moment, I think she’s going to listen to me. Clearly I don’t know my friend at all.
She shakes her head, sending her chestnut curls bouncing. “I think I’ll tag along.”
“You can’t come with me, Nyssa. If you’re caught, you’ll end up chained to a wall in a cell.”
I flinch at my own words, bracing myself for the memories to break free from the box I locked them in, but Nyssa’s next words shock me enough to hold them at bay.
“Sounds erotic.”
I huff out an irritated breath and rub the bridge of my nose. She watches me closely. Her eyes are still sparkling, but concern and resolve shadow them.
“Fine. Stay close.”
When I peer through the tree again, the guard has changed.
The previous pair have been replaced by one wearing the cerulean himation and royal insignia.
But even the sight of Kal’s guard, Maxim, does little to ease the trepidation that clings to me, more stifling than the humid air, at the memory of my father discovering Kal and me the last time I was here.
“Let’s go.” The words have barely left my lips before I’m heading toward the gate, Nyssa shadowing my every move.
I nod to Maxim and slip through the gatehouse, not sparing a glance at the palace before me, but I hear her suck in a breath at the sight.
I carve my way across the paved pathways and through the sculpted gardens, picking up the pace as I draw closer to the green sculpture of King Cadmus.
My heart skips a beat, and my steps stall when a figure moves out of the shadows. The sight of his rich brown curls and kohl-lined eyes is like coming home. I would know them anywhere. I know them better than my own reflection.
“Aella.” Kal’s voice cracks with relief, and the sound forces my feet to move once again. I launch myself at him, and he catches me, pulling me into a hug tight enough to crack my ribs.
I’m not sure how long we stand in that embrace, but eventually a throat clears behind us. I push away, turning back to Nyssa.
“Are you going to introduce us, or…” Her words trail off, and she arches a brow at me.
“Nyssa, this is my brother, Kal.” I gesture between them. “Kal, this is my friend, Nyssa.”
I watch with confused amusement as Nyssa drops into a mock curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, Prince.”
Kal glares stonily back at her. “You’re one of them?”
“You’ll have to be more specific,” she says with a coy smile. “One of who, exactly?”
“A Songbird.” He spits the word.
“Kal, did you miss the part where I said she’s a friend?” I step between the two of them, holding my hands up and hoping to defuse some of the hostility. “And, Nyssa, play nice.”
“I can’t believe you’re back. Things are bad, Aella.” Kal says the words so quietly, I almost think he didn’t mean to say them at all. When I look up, I see his tormented eyes, shadows dancing in their depths, turning them almost black. “Eretria has sent a demand.”
His words freeze me, ice crawling through my veins, coating my lungs until it’s hard to breathe. I know what he means. Of course I know. Keres is too proud, too arrogant, too cruel to let our actions go unanswered.
I force myself to ask anyway. “What do you mean?”
“They have made a demand for the return of their property.” He hesitates before adding, “Along with the prince’s future bride.”
The edges of my vision blur as panicked thoughts threaten to swallow me whole, my breaths coming faster with each passing second. The world around me shifts out of focus, and I—
“Breathe,” Kal whispers, his voice slicing through the fog of panic clouding in my mind. I draw in a sharp breath, my focus returning with sharp clarity as I meet the concerned gazes of the two people before me. “You can talk to us. You don’t have to shoulder this alone,” he urges softly.
As I glance between the two of them—the two people I trust and love more than life itself—a sense of calm washes over me, dispelling the panic within.
And so I do.
I tell them everything.
And then we plan.