Chapter 37
MYRA
Laurince paced in front of Myra, his helmet nestled in one arm as he rubbed his face with the other.
Myra did not have to reach out to feel the stress pooling off every pore. It showed in every movement he made: his feet dragging across the ground, his knuckles blanching as he tightened his hold around the helmet, his eyes darting across the room, looking at everything yet nothing at the same time.
Anxiety was an infestation that seeped its claws into everything. It ate away at one's ability to think properly. And it was present here in scores.
"Getting out of here will not be easy," he mumbled.
Myra nodded in agreement, though she knew Laurince was not paying attention to her.
"More and more guards arrive every day."
"Is the king preparing for something?" Myra asked. She had not seen Domitius since he had delivered Rian.
Laurince halted and looked at her, his brows drawing together as if he had just recalled she was there. "Huh?"
Myra cleared her throat. "You said there are more guards than before. Is the king preparing for something?"
"Oh," Laurince muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. "It seems that way, yes. No one quite knows the reason for the gathering yet, but there's a nervous energy in the castle."
Myra twisted her fingers together, Laurince's words sinking in. Domitius was indeed preparing for something. The only question was what.
"Has there been word about the princess's whereabouts?" she asked.
Laurince shook his head. "We cannot concern ourselves with her right now."
Myra nodded. He was right, but she still hoped for Kallie's safety. The king no doubt had expected her to return by now or at least hear word from her. Myra had twisted Kallie's emotions so much that she would have felt an intense need to return to him immediately.
But if Kallie hadn't returned, perhaps that meant Myra had failed.
She could only hope.
Laurince's voice broke through her thoughts. "I can manage to get the keys and get Rian out of the cell. But then we will need to get out without being seen."
"Have you...have you heard about my brother's whereabouts?" Myra asked lowly.
"No, but I have narrowed it down, for the king only visits a select few cells himself. It has to be one of them."
"Why haven't you confirmed which one yet?"
Laurince scoffed. "I barely trust you as it is. The fewer people who know about our plan, as small a plan as it is, the better. We cannot afford to let your brother know. We do not know where his allegiances lie."
Myra's lips parted, a rebuttal on the tip of her tongue, but Laurince clocked it immediately and spoke before she could.
"Do not feign to be that ignorant. From what you have told me, your brother has been under Domitius's hold for nearly a decade. He may be a prisoner like you, but you have been allowed to form your own opinions. We cannot be certain that your brother feels the same way."
"But you just said so yourself! He is a prisoner. Why would he relay our plans to the king?" she challenged.
He gave her a pointed look. "All your brother knows is this life. Even a dog would hesitate to bite the hand that feeds him."
Laurince's words sat between them, a heavy weight that pressed against Myra's chest. She did not want to admit that he was right, but she also could not admit that he was wrong either.
"Even taking him with us is a risk," he added.
Myra stood, her hands curling angrily at her sides. "I will not leave him."
"Then what assurance can you give me that he will not betray us?"
Myra held her breath as she glared at Laurince. The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated to speak it aloud. While Laurince had been kind, she still did not know him well enough to trust him completely, especially with a secret she had guarded for her entire life.
Her parents had told her to keep her ability hidden, for that sort of information could be dangerous in the wrong hands.
Yet Domitius still had discovered the truth, hadn't he?
Perhaps secrets did more harm than good...
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "If it comes down to it, I can change his mind."
"How can you possibly do that? We might not have the time for you to spin some sob story that will--"
Myra shook her head and interrupted Laurince, saying, "I only need a few seconds."
Laurince narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"It is easier if I show you." She bit her lip.
Myra held out her hand, and Laurince stared at it with distrust.
"You came here for a reason, Laurince," Myra whispered. "Do you trust me?"
"I don't trust anyone anymore."
"Good. You shouldn't," Myra said with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But if you seek reassurance, this is the only way I can give it to you."
Laurince snorted. "Holding your hand isn't going to magically make me believe you."
"Actually, it might," Myra said, her words a heavy weight between them.
She could sense Laurince's apprehension thicken, and she wiggled her fingers because although Myra did not need to touch someone to transform their emotions, it was easier to do so if she did. And perhaps it would be easier for Laurince to understand.
She added, "I have learned that having too many secrets only makes matters worse in the end, even if the intent in keeping them is to protect the other person."
"What do you mean?" Laurince asked, brows furrowed.
Instead of answering with her words, however, Myra grabbed Laurince's hand. The confusion that once covered Laurince's countenance vanished and was replaced with pure bliss. A smile spread across his face, splitting it into two. His eyes crinkled.
Then, in a flash, Myra snatched her hand from his and cut the connection.
Laurince blinked. When her gift slipped from him, he backed up slightly, shaking his head. "What did you--what did you do?" he stammered.
Myra took a deep breath and said, "There are people in this world who can do things that are not normal."
Laurince stared at her in disbelief. "How? Why? I--I don't understand what just happened." He peered down at his hand before looking back up at her. "Are you...are you a goddess?"
Laurince's fingers twitched over his short sword. When he saw where Myra's attention had gone, he removed his hand immediately.
"I didn't mean--" He brushed a hand through his hair. "I--I'm sorry."
Myra nodded. "I do not blame you for being wary. The unknown is a dangerous place to exist. It is why people like me usually keep their abilities a secret."
His eyes widened. "People? There are more people who can--who can do whatever it is you did to my emotions?" he exclaimed.
"Yes and no," Myra said, weighing her words. "I have only encountered a handful of people who bore them, but all abilities differ. My mother was gifted in embroidery."
His forehead creased. "That is...a gift?"
"The way she embroidered? It most certainly was," Myra said, her tone lighter than it had been in weeks as she thought of her mother embroidering in the garden.
However, the moment of reprieve was brief, as Myra recalled the last night in her childhood home, when spools of thread were thrown onto the ground and pieces of embroidery were slashed through with a blade as the king's guards ransacked the house.
Myra cleared her throat. "You asked for reassurance. I have given you that. If my brother wishes to run to the king, I can force him not to by changing his emotions."
"And you are sure that will work?" he pressed.
Myra nodded. "It has worked in the past."
She could see the question rise to his face before he even spoke it.
"Who?" Laurince asked, the single syllable wrapping around her and threatening to strangle her.
"Kallie."