Chapter 1 #2
Yes, my friends had lied to me for months, but that didn’t mean I’d give away their secrets in return.
Also, petty as I felt, I didn’t want Feroy to learn about a second world, about magic, and that not everything roaming Ivreia was human, even if everyone was under the impression and belief that this was the case.
Even more so since my own stupidity had gotten me into trouble in the first place and was the reason that my desperate attempt to escape the one I refused to acknowledge had ended with my captivity. I wouldn’t fail the males and betray their trust, no matter how much I had to endure in return.
Being a snitch wasn’t me, and this was the hill I’d die on. Literally.
“Miss Ortha, who are the men you traveled with, and where are they now?”
“None of your business, but if you have to know—”
“Yes?”
“They’re my friends. Of course, that concept must be alien to you, so I will stick with my earlier reply and state again that their identities are none of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The company you kept prevented you from receiving your rightful punishment. So, again, who are the people who cut you from the gallows, and how did they do it?”
“Well, you mean Lord Cantor and his men. With a knife, I guess, but I can’t say for certain. You must excuse me. Back then, I was slightly indisposed with almost dying.”
“Stop the sass and answer my questions. Or you’ll truly regret it.”
“Like I told you before, and your henchmen even more often, I won’t reply to that. I’m a lot of things, but never a tattler. But you can’t understand that because to know loyalty among friends, you would need to have one in the first place.”
I glowered at Perran Feroy, who stared angrily back at me. As an Ivreian man of power, he wasn’t accustomed to a woman showing him defiance, and this was written all over his face.
He was used to intimidating people and forcing them into submission, but with me, he was rather unsuccessful because I’d collected plenty of experience around a way scarier predator. And even with that one, I hadn’t accepted any antics.
Clamping down on that train of thought almost immediately, a ball of anger formed in my insides, directed at myself as much as at Feroy.
Pondering about him wouldn’t do me any good, and so I didn’t allow my head to go even near there.
Before I remembered the royal idiot, I’d rather lose the battle against my piece of chalk.
“You and I both are aware that it’s only a question of time until you’ll cave and sing like a songbird. The only difference is how much more pain you’ll have to suffer between now and then. My men haven’t even started trying to break you in earnest, and you’re already a pitiful mess.”
“We also both know that you want to see me dead, no matter if I satisfy your curiosity or not.”
“Yes, but you can pick how painful your end will be.”
“What, you don’t even attempt to barter with me for my life so you’ll get your information?”
“No. There’s no future where I’ll allow you to survive. You killed my only son, my heir. Mercy isn’t a concept for the likes of you.”
“Jelric was a rapist and deserved everything he got.”
“Again, he had every right to use you as he deemed fit.”
“And if you had another son, and he was such a despicable person, I’d gladly wield a blade again. So screw you.”
Perran sighed, and I glowered at him. If he believed I’d cave so I could earn a nicer death, he was delusional.
“Fine, Miss Ortha. Let’s see how you’ll react when we stop catering to your most basic needs. To be honest, I always wanted to find out how long someone can survive without food or water.”
I narrowed my eyes at the merchant and glared at him in defiance, although most of my bravery was an act.
If I were sincere, I’d admit that I was terrified, but was I allowing Perran Feroy to realize how weak I truly was?
No, not a chance. “Well then, at least one of your questions might be answered.”
I cried out when the only response I got was a punch in my already injured ribs, and I crumpled onto my cot. I coughed hard, and as I examined my hands afterward, I spotted blood.
Not good at all.
“Whenever you’re ready to sing, Miss Ortha, alert the nearest guard.” With those words, the King of Merchants exited my cell, and the door locked with a deafening sound of finality.
A pathetic whimper spilled from my lips as I curled up into a ball and, as so often in the last few days, escaped my gruesome reality through sleep.
The dark void I floated in was oddly comforting, and it took me some time to realize I was inside a dreamscape. It had been a while since I’d had one of those weird lucid dreams where I knew exactly that nothing I experienced was real.
Typically, a place like this, one of utter darkness, should have scared me more than my surroundings actually did.
Because I was acquainted with this void.
I’d been here before, when I’d been taken to Amalach.
Contrary to now, though, I’d been carried through the darkness at a dizzying speed and had been convinced I’d lose every meal I’d ever eaten.
But within this specter, I was weightlessly suspended.
All around me was this peculiar dark non-space, and instead of being afraid, I was surprisingly safe and content.
For once, my pain wasn’t bothering me. There was only warmth and a feeling of—home.
I sensed at an intrinsic level that there was no need to be anxious.
The darkness enveloped me and gave me comfort.
Smiling in complete bliss, I closed my eyes and drifted.
“Come to me.”
The annoyingly familiar voice, which I tried my best to ignore, disturbed my tranquility, and I worked hard to will the disruptor away. My life during the last week had been horrible enough without confronting certain memories. Slightly agitated, I attempted to find my peace once more.
“Nayana, come to me.”
A muscle in my cheek ticked, and I clenched my teeth. Was it too much to ask that I wanted to enjoy the void without dealing with a certain someone who’d hurled me through this place not that long ago?
I took a deep breath, tried to relax, and pushed the thoughts of the insufferable lying bastard back to where they belonged—far away from me.
“Nayana. Talk to me.”
Of course, even in my dreams, this persistent creature wouldn’t give up.
Gods, the only saving grace I had when imagining finding my end in Perran Feroy’s prison was that I’d never have to deal with my broken promise again, nor with my self-proclaimed protector, also known as my bound Wielder, or more accurately, the lying piece of shit fae princeling.
Lazily, I opened one of my eyes in defeat and shifted my position so I wasn’t floating anymore but hovering upright in the inky nothingness.
“Can’t I have my peace from you, at least in my dreams?”
“No. I’m here, and I won’t go away.”
“I heard that and feared so.”
I sighed and opened the second eye as well, just in time to witness Dion materialize in front of me. His appearance was the same as I remembered him from our travels—stormy eyes, raven hair, feline grace, and so much stupid attractiveness. “Hiding behind your magic again?”
“It’s called Glamour. But that’s not relevant now. We don’t have much time, and you already wasted a lot on floating around and pretending to ignore me.”
Funnily, he didn’t sound angry or impatient. No, there was a particular fondness mixed with desperation in his voice, and I didn’t want to analyze why my brain had conjured him like that into my dream.
“Then what’s important, princeling?”
Dion growled in displeasure. “Don’t call me that.”
“You’re in my dream, and I address you how I want to in here.”
“We’ll discuss your choice of nicknames at a later date.”
“Sure. If I’m still around then.”
“Fuck, Naya. Did he hurt you that badly?”
Being acquainted with the dangerous edge in his voice too well, I willed my uninjured mirage-me to change so I’d show my real appearance—wounds, bruises, and all—as I tried my best not to fall for Dion’s worried tone. “See for yourself.”
“Fucking shit, Nayana. I’ll kill him. He’s already a dead man walking for not only touching you but also for…all this. Tell me, where are you?”
“In a dungeon cell surrounded by Perran Feroy’s men. I have no idea where.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just hold on, I’ll find you.”
“Of course.” My subconscious obviously attempted to sell me on hope, even though my rational brain understood there was none.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I broke my promise when I ran away in Amalach. All this is my own fault.”
The unreal version of Dion showed me his teeth and growled.
How I hadn’t been able to connect the dots that this male wasn’t human during all those months I’d traveled with him was a mystery to me.
He acted like a feral beast at best any day, and I’d simply ignored his otherness as if I hadn’t wanted to figure out the truth.
Honestly, I’d owned more than enough pieces of the puzzle. So many things that hadn’t been adding up. In retrospect, my surprise had been utterly unfounded.
“Who is to blame for what happened is an entirely different issue and not in relation to the fact that I’m coming for you. All you need to do is not give up. Do you hear me?”
“What if I don’t want you to come?”
“Have you already forgotten how I ignore your opinions when it comes to your safety, little Jama?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Why are you just as insufferable in my dreams as in real life?”
Dion sighed as well. “Because deep down, you understand I’m right and you should listen to me from now on?”
“You wish, princeling.”
Dion growled once more in frustration. “Stop calling me that.”
“As soon as you drop using Jama.”
“Very funny. On second thought, I don’t mind you giving me a nickname that much. And princeling is better than bastard, after all. So I’ll take it.”
My eyes dropped to Dion’s cheek when his smirk coaxed out one of his dimples. He could never learn how much those affected me, not even this dream version I’d conjured in captivity.
Dion’s grin vanished, and he regarded me with a sad expression. “I have to go. Wait for me. I’m coming and will get you out, even if it’s the last thing I ever do. I’ll kill everyone standing in my way. Ivreia will run red with blood until I have you back.”
Before I could react, his arms hauled me into a crushing hug, and despite all the lies he’d spoken and secrets he’d hidden, I simply allowed him to embrace me. Also, I stopped fighting against the hope blossoming in my chest, if only for a moment.
All because of a stupid sleep fantasy.
Agony returned with a vengeance as I woke up on my cot. I dwelled on the dream for a little while before banishing the mirage deep into the same box where I kept all the other memories of Dion locked up.
I couldn’t cope with the conflicting emotions threatening to rise.
The tiny spark of hope had completely vanished, and instead, I held on to the small pity that there was at least a possibility that I’d never have to deal with any of my boxed-up trauma again. If that wasn’t an optimistic view of my current situation, then I couldn’t imagine what else might be.
Slowly, I sat up as heavy steps hit the ground outside my door, the telltale sign that the guards were back to take me to further interrogation.
Inhaling and exhaling to steel myself, I swallowed the knot forming in my throat.
Only as the door opened did I notice the faint scent of petrichor and evergreens lingering in the air.