Chapter Thirty-Five
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Scarlett
It was still dark when I woke from a fitful, uneasy sleep.
I immediately turned to look for Severin, but he was gone. He had stayed until I’d fallen asleep, though he had kept a careful distance. If he had been hoping for a romantic rendezvous, he shouldn’t have admitted that he had allowed me to die.
What was I supposed to do with such an admission? It almost didn’t matter that Zandri had ways of ensuring Severin’s obedience. I had begun to think of Severin as someone who was wholly mine, and now I had to face the truth: he didn’t belong to me any more than these chambers did.
Everything I had could be taken away – by my father, my brothers, my mother – and even the belief that I had control was just an illusion.
Standing abruptly, I crossed the room and opened my wardrobe. I took little notice of the gown I selected, stepping into it and fumbling for the clasp. It would have been easier with Aella’s help, but I wanted as few witnesses to my late-night excursion as possible.
Closing my eyes, I visualised the outside hallway. All I needed to do was ensure that the guard saw nothing except what should be there: the white and gold of the walls, the crimson tapestries. All I had to do was believe.
The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges, affording me a view of the guard’s profile. He appeared attentive, but I noticed the boredom in the small ways he shifted in place, the tiredness in his posture.
He wasn’t expecting to see me at this hour, or anyone else. And people’s minds often overlooked what they didn’t expect.
I didn’t need to reach for his hand, so temptingly close. I didn’t need to brush his skin, not when I had a blood ruby coiled around my arm. White and gold and crimson, I thought, picturing the walls and tapestries. White and gold and crimson.
I shut the door silently behind me and inched past the guard, who didn’t react to my presence. I made my way slowly down the hallway, barely daring to breathe. Though I was quite proficient in my illusions, there were some things I hadn’t tried before. Invisibility was one of them.
Only when I was out of sight did I allow myself to relax. Only then did I allow myself to focus on what I was going to do. Because there were always choices to be made.
And while I might be a contender for the throne, I didn’t have to become a monster in the process.
As it turned out, accessing the dungeons was easy.
I had anticipated a challenge, but none of the guards noticed as I slipped silently past. Tonight, it seemed, I was little more than a wraith.
I followed the winding steps down into the dimness. There was no sign of life – only the damp and the cold, a few tiny weeds growing in stone crevices. Survivors, I thought to myself. There are always survivors.
Was that what I was? A survivor?
I hadn’t thought of myself that way before, but I liked it. Yes, I was a survivor – and I was determined to take control of the life I had fought so hard for. No matter what Odessa thought of me, I wasn’t my mother. And I didn’t have to make the same choices.
If the prisoners were awake, they were very quiet. The rows of cells were little more than distant shapes in the blackness, and I gave them a wide berth. Staying close to the middle of the long corridor, I focused on the only cell that mattered.
I had never used his first name, but I remembered it all the same. ‘S?ren?’
A figure stirred in the darkness. When he stood, I tried not to flinch: his clothes were covered in dried bloodstains, his proud face gaunt. If I’d seen him under different circumstances, I might not have recognised him.
The governor moved slowly over to the bars, until he was illuminated in the firelight. There was something fearful about the way he looked at me, as if he was expecting me to strike him.
‘It’s alright,’ I said, in the gentle tone I usually reserved for children and small animals. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
He didn’t react at first, and I wondered if he was too afraid to speak. Then he asked, ‘Are you really here?’
With a rush of pity, I understood. He wasn’t afraid of me after all. He was afraid of himself.
‘Yes,’ I murmured. ‘Yes, I’m really here. I’m real.’
His expression remained wary. Many prisoners went mad down here in the dark, and to the governor, insanity was probably the most realistic explanation for my presence. Why else would I be here – in the middle of the night, without a guard – when I’d made no secret of my dislike towards him?
‘You once told me,’ I said slowly, ‘that we didn’t need to be at odds. At the time, I thought that was impossible. But since you will no longer be my husband, I have no reason to work against you.’
The governor’s measured gaze rested on mine. ‘What are you saying?’ he asked quietly, his cultured voice rough from disuse.
It was difficult seeing him like this, brought so low. A pitiful shell of the man I remembered.
I thought of the kindness he’d shown me, and I knew I was doing the right thing. Even if it meant weathering Zandri’s anger.
‘I’m here to offer you a chance. The final Trial begins tomorrow – and with it, your death. But there is another way,’ I told him, leaning closer. ‘Pledge your loyalty to the empire, and you can be spared. At the very least, my father will reduce your sentence. You’re a political prisoner; you were only supposed to be imprisoned. I’m sure my mother convinced the emperor you were too dangerous to be left alive.’
I had anticipated a reaction. Relief, disbelief, confusion – something . But the governor said nothing. Did nothing.
‘Didn’t you hear me? All you have to do is pledge your loyalty, and—’
‘I won’t betray my queen.’
For a moment, I could only stare at him. ‘Pardon?’
Steeliness entered his face, as if a measure of his old strength had been restored. ‘I will not betray my queen,’ he repeated. ‘As I served her father before her, so too am I loyal to his daughter. To the true heir of the Kalurian throne.’
Anger pulsed inside me, but I forced it down. What was the point of such obstinance? He was no use to his country if he was dead. He was no use to anyone.
‘Mira isn’t a queen,’ I said with fraying patience. ‘She is a girl who knows nothing of Kalure, and only desires vengeance for her mother. Zandri is your queen.’
His grey eyes were clear and certain as they met mine. Unafraid. ‘Zandri will never be my queen. And neither will you.’
I stepped back from the bars. Copper flooded my mouth as my teeth sunk into my lower lip.
I remembered asking him whether he would serve me as loyally as his previous king. Then I remembered his amused smile. The way he had looked at me – as if I was a precocious child who had done something vaguely endearing. Someone who was to be indulged but never given any real power.
Just like my father.
Now here I was, trying to save his life. Here I was, while Mira was nowhere in sight.
And still he didn’t see me. Still, he didn’t treat me seriously.
See? Zandri’s satisfied, gloating voice echoed in my mind. This is what mercy gets you.
‘Suit yourself,’ I told him coldly, turning on my heel. ‘If you love your queen so much, you can die for her.’