Chapter 20
Too late. I was too late.
Over and over, I play scenes from the last few days in my mind. All the warning signs were there, but I was too foolhardy to recognize them. I should’ve left with the Wolf when I had the chance. I should’ve never come back from the borderlands.
The steady drip, drip, drip of putrid water is maddening enough to make me cover my ears like a child afraid of thunder.
It’s impossible to know how much time has passed.
Eventually, my stomach wrenches with hunger.
Thirst claws at my throat, suffocating me.
But worst of all is the freezing cold and the uncontrollable shivering from my damp dress.
Rats scamper around the edges of the cell, sticking to the shadows.
The light I’ve conjured is barely enough to reflect on their tiny eyeballs as they watch me, waiting.
I’m so weak, soon I won’t even have enough energy to maintain an orb of light.
There’s a real possibility that they’ll eat me alive in the dark. Bite by tiny bite.
I wonder if the Wolf finally left without me; if he accepted that I won’t return to escort him back to Annwyn.
Panic, true panic, is something I’ve never experienced before, not even when the corpse wolves chased me through the forest at the borderlands.
There, at least, I had guards and horses to help me flee.
Here, there’s no escape and no one to hear me scream into the darkness.
Before death takes me, I fear I’ll go mad.
I’m lying on the cold, hard ground, clutching Grandmother’s knife and waiting for death to take me when I first hear something outside my cell. The footsteps are so light, I hardly notice them above the scuttle of rats fighting in the corner.
“Who’s there?” I call out.
My only answer is a jangle of keys as someone struggles with the lock. When the door swings open, I could cry with relief. But the face that appears in the dim light is pale as death. And it’s the last face I ever expected to see.
Elena.
Her skin is slick with sweat and her silver-blond hair hangs limply around her shoulders.
Her gown is loose over her still-swollen stomach, the skirts heavy with dried blood.
We stare at each other for a long moment and I wonder if I’ve died and we’re meeting in the realm of the dead.
If my father has killed her before their wedding, only days after she gave him a son.
A man steps behind her. My faint light casts shadows along his tall, bulky frame—Hunter.
I move to get up, but my feet are numb with cold, and I stumble.
Hunter rushes toward me, worry etched across his face. Shivers wrack my body as he pulls me off the wet floor and holds me to his chest.
“You’re here.” My voice is scratchy from thirst.
He pulls a waterskin from under his cloak and places it in my hands. Warm water has never tasted so sweet. A wave of dizziness nearly makes my knees buckle and I remind myself to breathe between sips.
“Of course, I’m here. Did you really think I’d just leave you?”
Elena watches us silently, pain etched into the corners of her down-turned mouth.
I realize now that she’s breathing heavily and leaning against the doorframe for support.
I wonder if my father even permitted her to hold her newborn son, or if he stole that moment from her like he steals everything else.
“Thank you,” I say to her, the mother of my rival to the throne.
The corners of her mouth only turn down further. “You should go. And fast.” Her voice is hoarse and bitter. It’s as though the trauma of childbirth has stolen everything from her but the air she breathes. And even that is only a tentative grasp, at best.
Hunter looks back toward her. “Thank you, cousin.”
She takes a few slow steps toward him and puts her hand on his cheek. “You always were my favorite, you know.”
His eyes soften. “I know.”
Her hand on his cheek is pale and trembling, but there’s something else I’ve never noticed. My breath hitches before my brain can catch up. On her middle finger, there’s a thin, silver ring with one small decoration. A moth.
Elena notices my gaze and removes her hand. A million questions flood my mind, but there’s no time. The fates are cruel in that way.
“Go,” she says, then turns to leave.
Hunter reaches out for her. “I should escort you back to your rooms. To make sure you get there safely.”
She gives him a piteous look over her shoulder. “Whether I live or die is hardly consequential at this point. But thank you for your concern.” She disappears into the dark corridor, her footsteps as light as a moth’s wing.
Hunter kisses my temple, then frowns. “I’ll get you out of here.” He stares into my eyes a little longer than is strictly necessary. I hand his empty waterskin back to him. My head still throbs from dehydration, but the relief I feel is stronger.
“Saving me from death-by-a-thousand rats won’t make me change my mind, you know,” I say, only half in jest.
“What about death by thirst?” he asks with a small grin.
I shake my head. “Nor death from freezing.”
“Damp?”
“Can one die of dampness?”
“Most definitely.”
I shake my head. “I mean it, Hunter. I haven’t changed my mind about marrying you.”
“Yet,” he says. “You haven’t changed your mind, yet.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“Sienna,” Hunter grabs my trembling hands.
They’re coated in grime from the dirt-covered floor and rotting cell door where I clawed at it for hours.
He doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care.
He looks at me with those warm, brown eyes and somewhere inside of me, a spark of warmth ignites.
“I didn’t agree to your father’s political matchmaking for any sort of personal or political gain,” he says. “I thought you knew me better than that. I agreed because I love you. I always have.”
“I …”
He shakes his head. “It’s alright. I know you’re not some love-sick girl who yearns for a comfortable home and babies. Or chickens and a washerwoman who visits every second Tuesday.”
“I do love chickens.”
“Well, that’s not surprising. Who doesn’t love chickens?”
“And I hate washing clothes. I had to do it a lot in the borderlands.” To clean off all the blood, I don’t say.
Hunter lets out a dry laugh. “My point is, that won’t be our life together, Sienna.
We can learn to spin yarn and raise sheep near the mountains.
Or, we could pirate a ship and sail the seas, beyond the known world.
We can have any life you desire.” Hunter rubs his hands over my shoulders, trying to warm me.
“I only ask that you let me be even a small part of it.”
It sounds wonderful. Simple. But I know it isn’t. It can’t be. I nearly died down here, and a swift death in the near future isn’t off the table yet either. It’s too much to process.
His eyes travel over my tangled hair, muddy face, and soggy dress.
“You won’t last long like this.” He pulls a pack from over his shoulder. Inside is a cloak for me and a simple, brown dress, like something a servant might wear.
My fingers reach for the buttons behind my neck, but they’re still numb with cold.
“I can’t,” I say.
Hunter turns me away from him. With quick, practiced movements, he loosens the buttons down my back.
I wonder how many dresses he removed while I was away and whether I should be jealous.
He helps me pull the sleeves over my shoulders, his thumbs trailing over the goose pimpled skin of my arms. I sense his eyes on the back of my neck.
An entirely different shiver runs through my body.
Hunter steps back, turning away to give me privacy. “Quickly,” he says. “We don’t have much time.”
I finish removing the wet dress and shift, then pull on the homespun gown. It’s baggy in places, but not too long. It’ll do. With warmer clothes on my body, my legs feel more stable. I walk toward the door, throwing the cloak over me. It’s red.
I glance up at him, a questioning look.
He shrugs. “It’s the warmest cloak I could find in your rooms. You’ll need it. I also have blankets to cover with on the road.”
“The road?”
He nods. “I’m rescuing you, my darling. Haven’t you realized that yet?”
We run through the passageways, then slow once we emerge onto the main level. It’s nighttime; late based on the empty halls and low lights along the walls.
“How did you find me?” I whisper to Hunter.
“It took longer than I’d hoped,” he whispers back. “But I eventually made a deal with one of the other King’s Guards. He owed me a favor.”
“Pretty big favor,” I say as we pause to peek around a corner. It’s abandoned. We rush forward.
“It helps to know people in high places.”
“Like your father?”
Hunter just shrugs. It’s all the acknowledgement I need. He’s learned to use his political favor to the best advantage. I can’t blame him for that, seeing as it’s my neck he’s saving now.
When we reach the stables, we pass darkened stalls with horses snorting with curiosity. Their big brown eyes watch us from the shadows. They’re not used to midnight visitors. Hunter leads me to a paddock with two horses already saddled.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Stealing horseflesh is a crime punishable by death.”
He gives me a wicked grin. “What’s one more crime against the king?” He pats one horse on her strong neck.
The horses’ ears flicker as they listen to us. They have warm blankets and packs strapped to their rears. The gray mare has an additional lumpy pack with copper armor sticking out the side. Hunter isn’t just saving me. He’s leaving with me.
It strikes me now that Hunter intends to abandon the life he’s worked so hard for. There’s no way the King’s Guard will welcome him back after helping a prisoner escape. Especially not me.
“Wait.” I catch his arm as he kneels to help me mount the black horse.
“We don’t have time,” he whispers.
“You can’t do this.”
“What are you talking about?” He stands straight and glances over the paddock door to make sure we’re still alone.
“Your father …”
“He will call me a disgrace like he always has.”