Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
ASHLYN
It had been two days.
Two painful days of silence.
I waited in luxury while Fyn waited in the dark.
Soren had arranged the plan.
I knew little about it. Maybe it was better that way. The starlight didn’t indicate he was lying.
I hadn’t been able to speak to Fyn, to know what version he knew of the truth.
All I could do was trust.
After everyone had gone to bed, I waited in mine.
Soren said he’d come for me. He hadn’t told me if Fyn sent word.
Hours after I was readied for bed, I dressed in the darkest riding tunic from the wardrobe.
The blue in my hair was still just as vibrant. It would do no favors in aiding my escape.
Of course, I had to choose blue. Only I would do that and then be stuck with hair that nearly glowed in the moonlight.
I pulled out the thick black cloth that held my hair after it was freshly dyed. The fabric unevenly slipped as I tried to tie it in place. Every tug made another section of hair fall free.
The door creaked open. Even in the darkness, I saw Soren’s outline.
“You came.” I had worried he wouldn’t—that it had all been a ruse to get back at me.
“Take this.” He thrust the hilt of a sword in my hand.
It was mine.
My thumb ran over the leather where it had been worn. I never thought I’d see it again.
“Grab a cloak. It looks like it could rain.” The flicker of annoyance in his voice couldn’t be mistaken for care.
I shuddered as I tossed the sword onto the edge of the bed. There were far too many gowns in the wardrobe. Quickly I parted them, searching for something that could offer me comfort.
Soren pulled the curtain back, letting the moon’s glow shed a little more light on the garments.
Wool met my palm. I yanked the cloak free, pulling another gown with it.
“Leave it.” He glanced down as the gown I wore to the very first ball pooled on the floor. His fingers gripped the leather strap he held tighter.
“What is that?” I asked.
“You’ll wear the scabbard on your back when you ride. Surely you know how to do that.” He pulled the cloak closed, fastening it. He tucked the leather strap under his arm.
I had no idea how to grab it from that position, but it didn’t seem like a good time to argue. “Thank you.”
“The guard will be in their rotation. We have moments. If you aren’t quick enough, you’ll never make it through the hall. You’ll need to conceal the sword under your cloak,” he said.
“I’ve got it.” I struggled to tuck it under my arm. The flowing fabric of the cloak easily swallowed the lump from it.
Soren cracked the door open slightly. He held his hand up toward me for only a moment, before he grabbed my hand and tugged me into the hall.
When we rounded the corner, he led me toward the alcove where I had confessed everything to Fyn. I held my breath as we got closer to where the hall ended.
Soren leaned his back against the stone wall—it gave way behind him.
“There’s a hole in the wall.” My stomach sank.
“Will you be quiet and follow?” He pulled me into the dark passage, pressing the wall closed behind us.
“Follow you? I can’t see where I’m going.” I pushed back. “This is how you saw us.”
“A palace corridor is not the place I’d sneak off with someone,” he snapped back. “You could have at least had the decency to let him claim you elsewhere.”
Soren pressed forward without hesitation, pulling me behind him.
It seemed exactly like a place I shouldn’t have been alone with him. Like he could do anything to me here and no one could hear me when I’d scream.
I had trusted him, and now I was in a dark corridor with a man who probably wanted me dead. “You didn’t take me in here to—”
“That would have been easier.” His voice cracked as he said it. “I don’t brutalize women.”
No, he just subdues them with calming tonics and threatens everyone they’ve ever cared about. “Where is Fyn?”
“He will be where he is needed.” He tugged me forward.
I nearly tripped on him when he stopped and traced his hand over the wall.
He pressed his forearm into what should have been solid stone, and it gave way to another alcove nearly identical to the one we had left.
Beyond it there was another slender door with a guard stationed in front of it.
“Stay here.” When he left me, he walked back up to the guard and slapped something into his palm.
When Soren came back to me, he pulled up the hood over my scarf and checked the placement of the sword.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Hold on to my arm,” he murmured under his breath.
I tried to balance the sword under my cloak. “Why?”
“I told him I snuck someone in and needed to sneak her back out.” He didn’t flinch when he said it.
“Do you do this often?” His extensive knowledge of the corridor made me believe he had.
He rolled his eyes as he held out his arm. When I stepped toward the guard at the door, he only nodded at Soren.
It was safe to say Soren did this often. “Have you been doing this while I’ve been here?”
“No.”
His lie struck me, but I pressed my lips shut so I wouldn’t say anything foolish. There were a great many things I wanted to say.
The rest of the guard all looked away as we walked with him, like it was something they always did.
They judged me.
He judged me.
And he was free to do whatever he wished. He planned to continue doing whatever he wished.
I battled my fury as it engulfed me. Releasing it would only condemn me.
The sword slipped from where I squeezed it into my ribcage. “It’s slipping.”
Soren tugged me toward him, pressing his lips into mine. His kiss was just as suffocating as before.
His hand trailing my side as he slowly wedged it back in place under my cloak.
When I regained my grip on it, I pulled back from him.
A stupid smirk hung on his lips. “I had to make it look believable. Try not to drop your sword again.”
“I will definitely make sure I don’t.” I clung to his arm as he led me to the back of the stables.
When we went inside, a fae lord stepped in front of me. Stubbly red hair lined his jaw and matched the long hair that flowed from the top of his head. I recognized him from the journey here.
“Where is he?” Soren asked, clutching my hand onto his arm.
“The sword is slipping again.” I yanked my hand free from his and grabbed the hilt. “Please don’t kiss me again.”
The unmistakable jade-green glow of fae eyes glared at me from the darkness of the stable.
“That was not part of the deal,” Fyn said.
He was here—really here. I could finally breathe.
“I needed to get her out unseen.” Soren’s hand wrapped back around my wrist with my next step forward.
The water in my eyes made my vision blur. “Fyn?”
“I’ll get the horses.” The fae tradesman rounded a corner toward the stalls.
“There is no time for a tearful reunion,” Soren said.
Fyn tugged his cloak hood back. Slender grey rings held beneath his eyes as he glared at Soren. The paleness of his skin made them even more prevalent. “How will we get past the guard from here?”
“You’ll follow my lead.” Soren released me as he undid the stable stall and readied his horse.
“And you think no one will notice that you have a woman on your horse? Or do you have a disguise on you that I can’t see?” Fyn looked me over.
“They think I had a guest. It won’t be questioned,” Soren said.
“Of course they do.” Fyn grabbed Merda’s reins from the tradesman, before he mounted his horse.
Soren pulled the sword from under my cloak and secured it on the side of the horse’s saddle. “We’ll ride to the edge of the nearest town and then I’ll part with you there,” he said, as I climbed into the saddle. “You’ll have to look like you like me, Ashlyn.”
Fyn’s huffed behind us. When I turned around, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s time to go home.”
“Home.” I liked it when he said it.
Soren tugged me closer to him in the saddle as we took off.