Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Zara
Ishould be dead.
With the way I’m feeling, it’s possible I was for a while. I gaze at the ceiling of a room I don’t recognize, and my head throbs. My limbs are heavy, as if they’re tied to the bed. Saliva coats my mouth and my stomach churns.
How did I get here? The last thing I remember is the ballroom. Bright flashes of colors. Spinning. I think I was with Alfrie—panic in his eyes. Then, nothing.
When I awoke, he was here. His lips on mine, bringing me out of my deathly sleep. His kiss was everything. I wanted the moment to last forever. But he’s gone and I’m left alone with my guilt over wanting him.
It's too late. I’m married and will be Leer’s queen. He, my king.
I hear a door creak open from somewhere in the darkness. Footsteps. I want to sit up or roll over. But I can’t move.
“Zara?” Emlyn’s voice is near me, and I painfully turn my head as she rushes over to sit beside me. Tears fill her amber eyes, and she lets out a sob, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She lies down next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and weeps into the pillow.
I want to hug her and tell her I’m fine. That everything will be okay. We’ve lost so much. I try to force the words from my mouth, but it’s only dead air.
She sits up, swiping away the tears that stain her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was so worried about you, and everything hit me all at once. How are you feeling?”
I push out the words in small puffs and they’re no more than whispers. “What. Happened.” It takes an immense amount of energy, and my lungs burn with the effort.
“Leer said it was a Jimson Weed overdose.”
The same flower I saw Alfrie working with in the greenhouse. He said it was for sleep. Fear and sadness simultaneously grip my chest. He couldn’t have done this. I close my eyes, fighting back tears. He wouldn’t hurt me.
“Al-Alfrie.”
“He brought you here. Leer said he stayed with you all night.”
“Where is he now?” It comes out as a raspy sound, but I can finally get out a complete sentence. I try to pull myself into a sitting position, but I don’t make it any higher than my forearms. Even that’s a struggle.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.” She helps me to sit up and places a pillow between my head and the wall. “Leer will be back soon, though.”
“Alfrie was picking some Jimson Weed in the greenhouse—”
The door to the room swings open with such force, it slams into the wall behind it.
Alix rushes to my bedside. He’s in the clothes he wore to the wedding the night before and his black hair is curled at the ends with sweat.
His brow creases, and he drops into the chair next to the cot.
He drags his hands over his face and his blue eyes are dark with stress and lack of sleep.
Emlyn reaches for his hand. “She’s okay.”
He buries his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly.
He’s crying. I’ve never seen Alix cry. Ever.
He wipes away the foreign emotion and replaces it with his big brother concern.
“We may be at Lanray, but I’m still your bodyguard.
And I forbid you to die.” He chuckles as a teardrop falls from his long lashes.
I smile at him. “I’m okay, Alix.”
“Why didn’t anyone come and get me when this happened? I didn’t hear about it until you’d been in a coma for hours!”
Emlyn settles onto Alix’s lap and drapes her arm over his shoulder. “Alfrie was here. I don’t think he wanted to leave her. Leer heard about it from a guard.”
At the mention of Alfrie’s name, I can practically feel his kiss sweep over my lips, so soft and so full of emotion. My heart shatters.
But, I can’t erase the memory of him in the greenhouse with the very plant that almost killed me. It doesn’t make sense. The way he looked at me. The way my soul reached out for his when our lips collided. He wasn’t pretending anymore. I felt his love for me.
I can’t believe that he would ever do anything to bring me harm.
Alix plays with Emlyn’s fingers in his and he makes a face at the floor. He knows something, and I know he wants to tell me but isn’t sure how I’ll react.
“What are you not telling me?”
His gaze shifts between Emlyn and me. “Alfrie was arrested this morning. For attempting to assassinate you.”
Alix was right to think twice about telling me the news. I practically leap from the bed, my knees wobbling beneath me and I topple to the stone floor.
Emlyn lifts me from the ground and tries to steer me back to bed. “You need to rest. We’ll figure this out, but not right this second.”
I wriggle out of her grasp and use the table and chair to steady myself. “No, I need to see him now. Where is Leer? He can help.”
Alix blocks my path, his hands held out in front of him as if he is taming a wild predator that could strike at any moment. “Em is right, you’re in no shape to go anywhere.”
“I can’t let him sit in a dungeon. He would never hurt me.” I scowl at them, anger rising inside of me. Why won’t they let me go to Alfrie? My vision sharpens for an instant and I snarl as a shockwave of energy shoots down to my hands and they spread wide like claws of a beast.
Emlyn takes a step back. “Zara—?”
I grip the cot. “You told me he stayed with me the entire night. And we. We.” I can’t tell them about the kiss.
I might wish things were different, but I’m still a married future queen.
My heart sinks, the anger subsiding. But I refuse to allow Alfrie to be punished for something I know wholeheartedly he didn’t do. He couldn’t have…
“You said you saw him with the same plant in the greenhouse, didn’t you? I know you don’t want to believe it, but we need to consider that he may have poisoned you.” Emlyn puts her hand on my shoulder.
“I saw Elara leaving a hidden workshop the other night. Alfrie looked terrified of her. Which isn’t saying much.
” Alix helps Emlyn lower me back onto the cot and I don’t fight them.
“Listen, I don’t think Alfrie did this. Not intentionally.
Please, give me a day to figure this out.
We can’t just go storming into the dungeons, swords drawn. ”
My thoughts are racing. Why would Elara be anywhere with Alfrie?
I think back to the plate of fruit and the strange purplish juice dripping from the red apple.
Could my stepmother have something to do with this?
She’s evil and hates me more than most, but enough to want me dead? And where the hell is Leer?
“Zara?” Alix’s voice draws me out of my thought spiral. “Promise me you’ll stay in bed and rest.”
I stare him dead in the eye and lie. “I promise.”
The dungeons are five floors below the cold earth, buried deep beneath the castle of Lanray.
It took some time and a lot of physical effort to sneak down the hallway from the healer’s room.
Especially since I had to use the damp stone wall to steady myself as I painfully made my way to the stairwell.
The stone bricks that line the dozens of steep steps descending into the underground are slick with moisture and moss and my fingers slip multiple times.
Sconces with flaming candles hang from the walls every ten feet or so and rats scurry around my feet in the dark.
I hover along the wall, careful to prop my body against it to avoid tripping.
I haven’t seen any guardsmen yet and I worry they’ll be waiting for me, ready to toss me into a cell with Alfrie.
As I near the bottom of the stairs, I hear muffled voices and what sounds like water dripping, plinking into puddles on the ground.
I poke my head into the corridor and see two guardsmen walking in the opposite direction.
I edge around the corner and silently step toward what appear to be several alcoves with iron bars in place of doors.
Creeping along the dungeon, I scan the inside of the tiny spaces, but they’re empty except for the last cell.
Alfrie kneels on the dirt floor with his head hanging forward. His arms are stretched out to his sides, chained to opposing walls. His hair is dirty, and dried blood is matted around his ears and neck. Red patches stain his crisp white shirt.
“Alfrie?” I whisper yell, jerking my head to the halls, making sure the guards aren’t coming back.
He lifts his head, and I reel back at the sight of his face.
His bottom lip is split and bloodied and bruises cover his cheeks and his left eye, leaving it purple and swollen.
His eyes narrow and he winces before letting his chin drop to his chest again.
Screw secrecy. I’m the new Princess of Lanray, am I not? I stride back toward the stairs where I saw the two guards, curling my hands into fists at my sides. They’re sitting at a table next to a fireplace at the end of the corridor.
“I demand to see the prisoner.” I stand at my tallest and hold my chin high, subtly pressing my hand to the wall to steady myself.
The guards stare at me dumbfounded, and one gets up from his chair and lowers into a bow. “I was told no one can see him, Your Highness. By the King.”
“I come with his permission. I wish to see the prisoner immediately.” I raise my eyebrow defiantly and hope like hell they can’t tell I’m lying.
The guard shifts slightly as if unsure of how to proceed, then he leads me down the hall to the cells. Alfrie raises his head as the guard unlocks the cell door, and I step inside. “Remove these chains.”
“Your Highness—”
“Remove them now. Remember who you speak to.” Never have I been more confident in using my status to get what I want.
I wait for the guard to release Alfrie’s arms from their bindings.
They drop heavily to his sides and his shoulders slump.
He flexes his fingers and wrists and tenderly moves his limbs now that they’re free.
But the guard takes Alfrie’s free arms and chains his wrists together in front of him. “It’s for your safety, Your Highness.” The guard nods to me and backs into a corner in the cell.
“Leave us.”
“But—”