Chapter 14
MYRA
"Get up," a low voice commanded.
Myra grunted as a boot kicked her in the side. With the fog of sleep slowly evaporating, she raised a shaking hand to her face, shielding herself from the bright flames of the torch before her.
She squinted up at the guard but couldn't identify the man beneath the full-faced helmet he wore.
For almost a decade, Myra had lived among the Ardentolian guards. She had walked the halls beside them, exchanged pleasantries, and even ate among them on the rare occasion.
While she never considered the guards true friends, most of them had been kind to her or looked upon her without malice.
Now, the guards treated her as if she was nothing more than the last dregs at the bottom of a barrel of ale.
Myra had sacrificed her friendship, ignored her morals and values, and lied to everyone close to her by the order of the king. And where had it gotten her?
" Now, " the guard roared, slamming his foot into her side again, eliciting a grunt of paint from her lips. "The king has requested your presence."
Myra's stomach turned, the nausea returning and rendering her immobile.
The guard released a groan and yanked her up by the crook of her elbow. Myra's legs trembled as she attempted to stand. With her head spinning, she failed to steady herself and collapsed.
The guard cursed, anger spewing off him as he pulled her up again. "We cannot keep the king waiting."
"I'm sorry," Myra mumbled.
The guard tightened his grip on Myra's arm and yanked her forward, dragging her behind him. Outside the cell, a second guard nodded and turned, leading them down the hall.
Myra narrowed her gaze at him and stumbled. "Where are we going?"
"The king has decided it is time," the first guard said.
She blanched, her face paling. "Time for what?"
"Time for you to be of use."
Her lips parted.
But as if the guard felt another question brewing, he halted and spoke before she could. "You have been in the king's employ for several years. I should not need to tell you this, but I will: save your energy on futile questions. You will need every ounce of energy you possess for whatever task the king needs you to perform."
Trepidation dripped from the guard walking ahead, giving her pause. Although it was not his anxiety that had made Myra bite her tongue, but rather the emotions coming from the closest guard. Unlike the second man, malice and anticipation slithered from the guard gripping her arm.
Myra stayed silent as they led her deeper into the dungeon and through parts of the castle she had never known existed in the years she had lived there.
The torch in the guard's hand was the only source of light in the tunnel. Its flames danced across the stone walls, dispersing the shadows. Still, darkness followed them, chasing after the light like a starving beast.
They passed several cells barred with large iron doors not unlike the one she had come from. The further they went, the more decrepit the hall became. Shredded cobwebs hung from the ceiling. A scattering of footprints covered the hall, disturbing the dust on the ground.
Myra looked at one of the cells from which the foul emotions were most potent. Both guards' postures had changed slightly as they passed the cell.
"What's in there?" Myra whispered.
"If I were you, I'd stay as far away from those cells as you can. You never know what beast will crawl from them."
"What do you mean?" Myra asked, recalling the creatures lurking beneath the Frenzian temple. Could it be possible that Domitius was harboring his own?
"Stop trying to scare the girl more than she already is, Kolen," the other guard said over his shoulder.
Kolen merely chuckled and leaned closer to her. "The king likes his toys. While some may look like you, others are not as easy on the eyes."
Myra shuddered as a chill ran down her spine.
The guards remained silent the rest of the way, their heavy footfalls reverberating through the quiet hall. When they finally reached the end of the hall, an iron door blocked their path.
Kolen dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. Dozens of keys clinked together as he rifled through them with one hand.
Picking out a slender one, he twisted the ancient key inside the lock. Goosebumps crawled across Myra's arm as he pried the door open, its metal hinges protesting with a spine-chilling screech.
With a rough push, Kolen forced her inside the small, square room. A single torch flickered on the far wall, revealing two doors facing each other. The air crackled with anticipation.
"Iro," Kolen said, tipping his head to a door inside the room.
The second guard nodded and knocked on the door to the right, fear wrapping around his ankles.
Sweat coated the back of Myra's neck. She wasn't sure if it was because of the heat or the unease spilling from Iro as he waited by the door. Either way, every muscle and nerve in Myra's body screamed at her to run, to flee, to escape back down the hall from which they came.
Yet Myra did not move a muscle.
She couldn't.
She stood frozen as the door finally cracked open from the other side. A low moan sounded from somewhere in the room, a noise that crept across Myra's skin and sent a shiver down her back.
"Finally," King Domitius said, and his sinister voice had Myra yearning for the cell she had just escaped. "We have been waiting for you."
The king, despite his impeccably tailored suit, looked slightly distraught. To anyone else, he might have seemed sick with worry because of his missing daughter, but Myra knew better.
Domitius did not care about Kallie's well-being. He only cared that she remained in his possession and remained loyal.
Myra had caught the flicker of wildness within his eyes before he had composed himself and she had dropped her gaze. Although the emotion was fleeting, she easily recognized the underlying panic.
More than anything, Myra wanted the king to feel that he was not all-powerful--that he could not control everything. But after years of being in the king's employ, Myra knew that the king was not easy to shake. Once his mind was made up, there was no turning back. He would not stop until he succeeded.
"Your Majesty," Kolen said, bowing deeply and forcing Myra to follow suit.
Myra could feel the king's gaze press down on her.
"You couldn't have cleaned her up before coming?" Domitius drawled.
Kolen tensed beside her and cleared his throat. "We did not want to waste any time, Your Majesty."
"Is this conversation not a waste of my time?"
The guard tipped his head in penance. "Yes, Your Majesty. My apologies, My King."
"We will have to make do." Domitius huffed and turned on his heel. "Come."
Kolen straightened and pushed Myra forward.
Myra stumbled forward, her footsteps unsteady. Without anything to stop her, she collapsed onto the floor, her knees hitting the stone. She bit her lip to stifle the cry of pain.
"What the--?" the king began, spinning back around. He groaned in annoyance.
Suddenly, a rough hand snatched her chin and jerked her face upward.
Domitius's gaze bore into hers, his lip curling as his fingers dug into her cheeks.
Myra blinked away her tears and cleared her emotions, hiding them away as best she could. She held her breath as King Domitius scrutinized her.
"So, this is the prized handmaiden?" a new voice wondered, one much too familiar.
Myra's eyes snapped to the man appearing behind the king, and her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with the Prince of Frenzia.
She tried not to jerk out of the king's grasp or show any kind of emotion at all. But it was hard to keep still when Sebastian's small, green eyes observed her with too much interest as they skated down her body.
Sebastian's deep maroon suit jacket hung over his arm, the rich hue clashing with his red hair. The sleeves of his cotton blouse were rolled up to his elbow, and the hem of his shirt was tucked into the top of his black trousers.
Months ago, when they sailed the Red Sea from Pontia to Frenzia, Myra was thankful that she hadn't been required to interact with the prince.
Even in Frenzia, Myra rarely interacted with Sebastian, much to her relief. She had been around Frenzia's staff long enough to know their distaste for the prince, no matter how many titles he held. Sebastian Dronias was nothing but cruel, unkind, and wretched.
"Indeed, it is," King Domitius supplied, his lip curling as he released her. "Stand up," he commanded.
Myra tried to obey, but her limbs shook, and her attempt was feeble at best.
Sebastian chuckled in amusement, and Myra bit down on her tongue as tears burned behind her eyes. She had never been physically fit, not like Kallie, whose training had shaped her body. Still, Myra had never felt so weak as she did now. She pitied herself as the four men watched her struggle.
"Your Majesty," Iro said, his fear a tangible thing.
Myra squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of annoyance came from the king.
"Is there a problem?" Domitius asked.
Kolen stilled, his breathing quieting because even he knew that one did not interrupt royal affairs.
Still, the fear-filled guard stepped forward. "Your Majesty," Iro said, "the girl is weak. Getting her here was more cumbersome than we had anticipated. Are you sure--"
"Do you dare question me?"
Iro lowered his voice. "No, Your Majesty. Of course not. I just--I know how important this task is to you. I do not wish for anything to interfere with its progress."
The king hummed, the tension in the room growing taut. Domitius cocked his head and said, "I am feeling generous today, so I will let you leave this room with your tongue still intact. But do not question me again lest you wish never to speak again. Now get her off the ground."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Iro said, yanking Myra up by the elbow. "Thank you, My King."
Sebastian strutted forward with his hands folded behind his back. He stalked around her in a circle, clicking his tongue as he observed her. "I say this with the utmost respect, Your Majesty, but she does not seem all that special."
"Ah," the king tsked, "and that is why she has been such a splendid tool to have in my employ. Sometimes, those who hide in the shadows prove to be the best weapons."
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sebastian peered at the king inquisitively. "But I thought Kalisandre was your weapon, is she not? After all, you paraded her around as such."
The muscles in the king's jaw twitched at the mention of Kallie, but he pressed forward, hiding his dismay from those in the room. "While that is in part true, Kalisandre's obedience wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for her handmaiden." He smiled.
"Is that so?" Sebastian asked, doubtful.
"Indeed."
"If only all members of one's staff were as useful."
The two men laughed, the cruel sound making Myra's skin crawl. Then, someone cleared their throat, silencing the laughter as everyone turned toward the door from which the king and prince entered.
A man stood at the doorway, his hands folded together in front of him. He wore a stained white apron, a sight which made the blood leave Myra's face. Black gloves stretched over his arms, stopping at his elbows. Through silver-rimmed spectacles balancing precariously on the tip of his nose, the man observed her with beady eyes.
"Your Majesty," the man said, shifting his attention to the king. "Apologies for the interruption, but I am ready when you are."
"Thank you, Dr. Thorne," Domitius said. He turned to Sebastian. "Let's get started then, shall we?"
"Are you sure we can trust her?" Sebastian replied, his gaze flicking from the king to Myra with suspicion.
King Domitius merely shrugged. "She is just a woman--and a handmaiden at that. No one would believe her if she uttered a word." Fixing his gaze on Myra, the king arched a brow. "Though she won't, now will she?"
Myra understood the king's unspoken demand: if she wanted to see her brother again, she would obey.
Myra bit down on her tongue as Mynhos's screams came to the surface of her mind.
While she might have failed to keep him safe over the years, she was determined to keep him alive. Whatever Domitius wanted her to do, she would do it if that meant she would save her brother.
Sebastian hummed in agreement, scratching his chin. "I suppose it is worth the risk to be able to boast about our success."
"A king does not boast," King Domitius said with a click of his tongue.
Sebastian's jaw twitched, but he tilted up his chin. "And some kings do nothing at all."
King Domitius smirked. "It is a wonder you were able to make any progress with the research."
"My brother may be pretty on the eyes," Sebastian said, "but that is all he is good for. He has always been soft, and his head is constantly in those old textbooks. Knowledge, however, is only powerful if one knows how to use it and is willing to push the boundaries of what is possible.
"My father knew this, and he knew who Rian was. So, when the time came, I was the one who my father had confided in and entrusted. Since his untimely death, I have taken it upon myself to continue my father's research."
Domitius nodded. "And you have made great strides."
Sebastian nodded. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But we made a deal. This knowledge does not come freely."
"You will get what is owed," the king said with a flick of his hand. "You need not be hasty. You still do not sit on the throne."
The back of Myra's neck grew damp as the heat of the room increased. She tried to hide her interest as the conversation continued.
"Not yet. Though that will be solved soon enough. I cannot say the same for your side of the deal, though. The princess is still nowhere to be seen," Sebastian argued, quirking a brow. "From what I've heard, she is still gallivanting with the Pontians."
Myra's heart thumped in her chest, and she swallowed down her relief. She could only hope that Kallie was hidden and as far away from the king's reach as possible.
"Do not worry yourself over them," King Domitius said. "They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. We have ensured they will not be a problem for long."
"And if they are able to thwart your plans once again?" Sebastian asked.
"They won't," King Domitius said, his nose twitching.
"How can you be sure?"
"Steps have been taken to ensure their demise."
Myra tensed when she felt the king's gaze land on her. Guilt stirred within her for the actions she was forced to take before the wedding. She could only hope she had somehow failed to twist Kallie's mind.
Sebastian shrugged. "Well, let us hope your little pet is as successful with this experiment. After all, I didn't come all this way for nothing. Let us see if she is truly the answer we have been searching for."
He turned around and followed the other man into the room, where waves of fear and dread poured from in macabre waves.
A flurry of emotions twisted in the air and washed over her. Myra's stomach grew sour, and her skin became clammy and cold.
The king stepped in front of Myra. He tipped her chin up with a finger and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "You have failed me once. Let us see if you can redeem yourself, shall we?"
Myra swallowed the rising lump in her throat and said the words she had been trained to say, "Yes, My King."
He released her chin and followed Sebastian.
As the guards pushed her forward, an overwhelming sense of fear enveloped her. It soaked the wall, spilling onto the floor and threatening to drown her. But only some of the fear belonged to Myra. The rest emanated from whomever remained in the room from which the king had emerged.
The intensity was unbearable, consuming her and overtaking her senses.
Sweat coated her neck and dripped down her back. Her entire body trembled, and she grew light-headed as the room spun.
Her fingers dug into Iro's arm as her legs turned to liquid and her head spun, her vision darkening.
But before she lost consciousness completely, she heard the king's disapproving voice as he chided, "Take her away and do not bring her back in this state next time. We cannot afford any more delays."