Chapter 9
NINE
ARYELLA
I gave you my heart the day you walked into my blacksmith’s shop. I gave you my soul shortly after, when I learned you were selfless and loving, fair and brave. You seemed fearless. Even in moments you weren’t, you were determined to be.
—FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I
They fed me twice each day and were gracious enough to give me a pillow and blanket to make the hard bed more bearable. The guards changed out frequently but didn’t speak to me. I bided my time and paid attention to every move they made.
“ How’s the forest treating you? ” I asked Shera. She had been quiet and angry that I hadn’t ruined my cover by punishing Elias for striking me. I’d told her what happened and wished I hadn’t.
“I found a burrow to sleep in, but I miss the foot of your bed.”
I missed my bed and Damond’s cooking. One small, stale loaf of bread and a bowl of porridge was all it took for me to admit I’d almost been spoiled enough to forget how it felt to starve.
“ Have they come close to you while searching the perimeter? ” I asked.
“Close enough. They didn’t see me. And they won’t.”
My chest pinched with worry. It was selfish of me, keeping her near but out there, beyond the fortress walls.
“Maybe you’d be better off going back ? —”
“I will not leave you.”
The stubborn feline rejected the idea every time.
“ Has the commander blessed you with his presence again? ” Shera’s agitation echoed down the pathway connecting us.
“ No. I hope he does soon, though. ” If only so I could convince him to let me out. Most of my time was spent pacing and doing whatever exercises I could in my cell. I refused to lose a single ounce of strength I’d worked for.
“ I don’t ,” she answered sourly.
But at the end of that day, Elias paid me a visit.
Only the gods knew how long he stood there, tall and beautifully masculine, leaning lazily against the wall outside my cell, assessing me with dazzling eyes. His mouth curved into an arrogant smirk when I shot straight up in bed, body bristling.
“Hello, Fera.”
I clenched my teeth. It would be a grave error to reveal that the sight of him agitated me. But how did he get that thick, chestnut hair to sit so perfectly?
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?”
He idly rubbed his jaw before pushing off the wall, snatching a torch from its sconce, and covering the distance to the cell in four quick strides.
“Cheek looks rough,” he observed, sounding indifferent.
I grimaced. “Well, you hit me.”
“You disrespected my queen.”
“Do you think your queen would approve of you striking a woman?”
He scoffed, but the torch’s flickering glow illuminated the fleeting guilt in his expression.
“You were last in Brinnea around the Solstice,” he said.
I cocked my head. “Is that a question?”
A loose laugh. “You know, you’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s defenseless and locked in a cell.”
Blood thrummed in my ears. I suddenly felt far too exposed. “I’m far from defenseless.”
Elias hummed in amused agreement. “The mouthy part still stands.” His eyes lingered where my fingers curled around the cold, rusted metal bars of the cell. “What did you see in Brinnea the night of the Solstice?”
I feigned ignorance. “What am I supposed to have seen?”
His sigh was thick with irritation. I was testing what little patience he had.
“You have a choice, Fera,” he uttered darkly. “You can either be useful to me or you can render yourself useless and I’ll decide how to dispose of you.”
Warning pricked the hairs on my neck and arms. Power simmered beneath my skin. I reminded myself that he couldn’t physically hurt me unless I let him.
“Are women disposable to you, Commander?”
His shoulders shook with quiet, surprised laughter as amusement danced in his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d come here with the sole purpose of twisting my words.”
“You make them easy to twist.”
He peered down at me through thick eyelashes. “You’re from Brinnea. You know Nyrida’s history. I’m sure you’re aware of Queen Christabel’s prophecy of a savior queen wielding the power of all twelve gods.”
“I am aware of the prophecy,” I answered. Would he boast about being the prince of the people destined to marry the queen?
“Given your charming assessment of my character and your allegation that I have somehow mistreated my queen, it seems you know more than you should. She was in hiding prior to her journey to the place my people live, hidden and warded from Molochai and his Insidions. Her isolation was for her protection.”
My brow furrowed. As Fera from Brinnea, I was nobody to him. Why was he defending himself to me?
“So, she was locked up for her own good.”
His jaw ticked. “We kept her safe and comfortable.”
I blanched. Safe and comfortable were not the words I would use to describe how Gavin and the others had found me. But despite my impulse to punish Elias for it, I needed to exercise some restraint to convince him of my new identity.
“You have soldiers stationed near Brinnea, don’t you?” I asked. “They talk. One of them was talking about a girl destined to fulfill Christabel’s prophecy, and word travels quickly.”
“Then you know the Butcher of Nyrida got his hands on her.”
My thighs clenched at the memory of his hands on me as the two silver rings on the chain beneath my shirt heated my skin. I swallowed thickly. “I didn’t… That sounds… unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?” His face twisted in a scowl. “ Unfortunate would have been the queen getting lost or injured. Instead, a monster abducted and dragged her straight to Molochai himself.”
Monster. That word grated my ears. It wasn’t true, no matter how many times I’d tried to convince myself it was to make detaching from him easier. I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping the bars until Elias glanced down at my hands.
“Do you know what happened to her then, Fera?” Elias curled his fingers above my own, where unwanted heat gathered.
The scar down the center of my torso twinged as terrible memories threatened to break the resilience I’d spent months building.
The taste of copper I swore still lingered on my tongue.
The piercing sound of my screams. The agony in his .
The memory of pain so horrific it was blinding.
The way Elias’s hand was warm next to mine when he was supposed to be cold. How, standing this close to me, he smelled like juniper and mint.
I didn’t want to notice how he smelled. It was too much .
I abruptly released the cell bars and retreated. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“No.” Elias’s lips curled into a sneer, but a sadness surged through him. “Nothing good .”
“Well, I saw no monsters in Brinnea that day.”
His sorrow turned to resignation. “Useless, then.”
“Wait!” I rushed out. He was on edge, unforgiving, and seeking someone to punish.
I had to give him something or my plan to earn my place and throne would fail at the starting post. “I was out near the forest that night. There was a young woman with very light-colored hair riding south on a brown horse. But she appeared to be going of her own volition.” I chose every word carefully. “There was no man with her.”
“What were you doing near the forest that night?” Elias narrowed his eyes.
“Taking a walk.”
His brow furrowed. “And she was alone?”
I nodded.
“Did she look…” He swallowed thickly. “Was she afraid?”
My eyes burned. An easy answer. “Yes.”
Torment contorted his devastatingly beautiful features. “And you’re sure that’s all you saw?”
“That’s all there was to see.” I retreated farther back from the cell bars. I didn’t want him to see me anymore. “She rode south, and she was gone.”
“Gone.” The word shuddered past his lips. A brutal and true reminder. The compliant queen that Simeon wanted me to be was gone. Dead. And her vulnerable, bleeding heart? A desiccated piece of flesh at the base of some cliff south of Brinnea.
“Is that useful enough for you, Commander Winterton?” I snapped, making a show of impatience to avoid this moment turning vulnerable. His attention snapped to me. Had he been dreaming about his queen? An idea ?
Curious eyes searched what he could see of me, retreated in the dark. “For now.”
He turned and left me alone in my cell.
Elias returned the next day wearing tight black pants and a loose white shirt, his bronze hair less perfectly coiffed than it had been. Rather, it looked like it had been run through more than once, by his hands or someone else’s.
Gross.
I expected an arrogant, facetious greeting and was disappointed when I didn’t get any type at all. Our verbal sparring the day before had been my only excitement since being locked up.
“How does my cheek look today, Commander?” I gestured around my cell after he dismissed the guards. “No mirrors in here. Though I can’t imagine it looks rougher than you do.”
“You were right.” His voice was riddled with exhaustion, and he had pronounced bags under his eyes.
Had he even slept? Panic stirred behind my ribs.
“One of my spies was near the camp the night she died. Too far away to be noticed by Molochai and his Insidions but close enough to hear her screams as she was brutally tortured and killed. He saw a young woman with white-blond hair approach Molochai’s camp unaccompanied like a lamb to the slaughter.
” He rubbed the back of his neck, his toned biceps straining against his sleeve.
“She showed up at Molochai’s camp alone . ”
The memory of that early winter chill on my naked skin crept up my spine. The rope around my wrists and the scraping of tree bark against my back. The Insidions gawking and leering.
“Tell me, Fera.” His dangerously low voice snapped me out of my grim memories. “Because I do not understand. Why the hell would she go there alone? By choice ?”
Because I’d been heartbroken. Because I’d been stupid and naive enough to think I could make a bargain with Molochai and not end up tortured and dead.