Chapter 5
The CHOICE
The king’s voice drifted through the hall and, on instinct, Matthias stopped just shy of the throne room to watch and listen.
“I’m going to have fun with her,” the king sneered as he picked a fish-bone from his plate and flossed his teeth.
Jes threw him a sideways glance—hatred written all over her face. “Why don’t you just kill her and be done with it?”
“Now, why would I want to do that? And ruin all the fun? No, killing a beautiful woman just because I despise her ruler simply will not do. If he doesn’t come and rescue her, then I’ll just keep her around for entertainment. You never know . . . she might even replace you if you’re not careful.” The king’s eyes travelled the length of Jes’s body.
Matthias peered through the crack of the door, considering their conversation. His father was right. From the first moment Matthias saw her, he thought she was beautiful, even through the dried blood and bruises.
Her skin was warm like honey, and the soft waves of her brown hair reminded him of roasted chestnuts. It was her doe-eyes, though, that caught his breath every time she glanced at him–when she was brave enough to look up from the floor. They were unlike anything he’d seen before. Her irises were mossy green around the edges, fading into a warm, caramel brown, reminding Matthias of the very edge of Oscuro, where flourishing green meadows melted into the dappled, sunlit forest.
If he could, Matthias would have ventured deeper into her gaze and stayed awhile.
His father had other plans, though, and whisked her back to the dungeons as soon as the wine was served.
The second time he saw her, the maids had dressed her in an outfit fit for a whore. It was nothing but a thin piece of black fabric wrapped around her chest, covering her breasts, but stopping just as her ribs started, exposing her stomach to the elements and to greedy glances. She wore a black, flowy skirt low around her hips, with deep slits in the sides that exposed her legs every time she walked.
Matthias could see by the way she held her shoulders that she’d been very uncomfortable.
Jes scoffed and rolled her eyes, bringing Matthias back to the present.
“She’s not that beautiful. Surely she doesn’t compare to me and the things I can offer,” she said with a purr as she ran her hands over her hips.
“I think you will find many would disagree.” The king smirked. “But don’t worry your pretty little head, Jes, I’m not done with you yet.” He beckoned to her with a bony finger and patted his knee, inviting her to sit upon it. Jes pulled herself from her seated position and seductively walked towards the king.
Matthias closed his eyes at the scene that unfolded next. Seeing his father with a woman made him feel like ripping out his eyes all together. Turning, Matthias headed back towards his room—he’d seen, and heard, enough.
During the evening meal yesterday, when the guards dragged the prisoner back to her cell, Matthias was close to questioning what his father had planned for her, but decided against it.
Instead, he thought if he talked with her, he would get some answers and her punishment would be less severe. There was no way she could know just how brutal his father could be. If she wouldn’t give him answers, maybe he could talk some sense into her, a warning for what may come. She could avoid it if she only gave the king what he asked for.
Winnowing into her cell didn’t turn out as well as he thought it might.
Now, as he sat in his room, Matthias pondered on what his father’s plans were, but then shook his head. What did he care what his father did with her? The king never confided in his son. He certainly would not start now.
But the way she looked at him with those enchanted forest eyes tugged on what rest in the bone cage inside his chest and, for once in his life, he wanted to tug back. The way she held herself, even through the pain that was continuously laced across her beautiful face, was a testament to her bravery.
Bones whimpered, and Matthias looked up from his desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. “Don’t you start. I know this place is the pits, but I have little choice, not until I have a decent amount of money. A few more fights, and we will have enough to be rid of this place. Even if it’s just living in our cabin.”
Matthias had built the small house near the edge of the Oscuro Veil a few years ago. He was biding his time, saving until he had enough money to live a peaceful life away from all the chaos. Whether it be at the cabin planting crops and raising some chickens, or on a small boat sailing the Drayton seas.
He could have taken the king’s money and run, but that would bring unwanted attention. Deciding to gain his own coin was a wiser choice.
Placing the pen down, Matthias shut his secret keeper and shoved it back inside the wooden drawer. He locked it and put the key in a small pocket on the inside of his jacket. Looking around the room, he knew he could pack his belongings in minutes.
Someone pounded at his door.
“Stay here, boy.” He motioned towards the fireplace. Bones huffed, but obeyed.
Matthias checked his appearance in the round mirror above the fireplace mantle, brushing his dark brown hair with his fingers before opening the door. A scared-looking maid stood before him, trembling. “The king calls for you, Your Highness,” she squeaked.
What could his father possibly want with him now?
“I’ll be back soon,” he said to the wolf and left the room, closing the door softly. The girl scurried off, and Matthias followed in the same direction.
When he reached the throne room, he found it empty, even though it had been occupied mere moments ago. His father must have gone down to the dens—with his minions. He should have asked the maid where the king was before she hurried off.
There was no one else around, so Matthias closed his eyes and, with a blink, he was gone—reappearing in a dark corridor on the lower levels of the castle. Matthias opened the door that led outside and walked the short distance to the only other place the king usually spent most of his time.
Before stepping into the den, Matthias gathered his composure, mentally preparing himself. He found his father inside, where hundreds of Thorns, male and female, were making weapons. The stench in the air was foul and the heat from the forges almost unbearable. His father was seated upon a dais, looking down at his creations.
Matthias took a deep breath and approached him. “You summoned me?”
Distaste was one of many words to describe the way his father looked at him. There had been many times the king had made demands that Matthias simply refused. Like leading hauntings of Thorns into The Grey or making ridiculous speeches at public engagements. Refusing never came without consequence, however.
“Yes, I did,” the king replied.
“Well, I’m here. What do you want?”
Sounds of metal clanging sounded in the air and the expression on his father’s face didn’t change. The king was a professional at the steel gaze. “I want you to get information from the woman in the cell.”
“What woman?” Matthias asked.
The king shifted on his throne, a scowl written on his face as he stared at his son. A few seconds ticked by as the look turned from disgust to crazed. The king laughed out loud. It was a sound of pure evil, enough to chill one’s bones. “And I thought having a son wouldn’t cause automatic disappointment and yet here we are.” The king spread his arms out wide.
Matthias swallowed, choosing to bite his tongue.
His father rose and sauntered down the dais steps towards him. “You know perfectly well which woman I am talking about. The one from enemy soil, currently inside one of our prison cells?”
“Oh . . . that woman. And how am I meant to extract information from her?” Matthias folded his arms across his chest.
“I don’t care. By torture? By force? Threaten to cut her tongue out?” the king sneered.
Matthias made a show of pondering his father’s words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“I’m sorry?” his father growled.
“I said ‘no thanks’. If you want answers. Get them yourself.”
“What will it take for you to obey me, son? If you value your inheritance, you will do as I bid!” the king yelled.
Every fibre in Matthias’ body wanted to burst out laughing at the look on his father’s face, but he knew what kind of reaction that would entail. The king would never give him an inheritance, anyway. Besides . . . even if he did, Matthias didn’t want it.
“You can take my inheritance and give it to someone who actually cares about it. . . maybe that thing over there. He seems desperate to take my place.” Matthias motioned to the figure who walked through the doors. Snake grinned from ear to ear, and Matthias wanted to wipe the smug look off the male’s face in the most painful way he could imagine.
“I will not play into your schemes. If you wish to strip me of my title or my inheritance . . . by all means—go ahead.”
Matthias waited, brows raised at his father, who stood speechless. He stole one more glance at Snake and then exited from the den before his father recovered and decided to use his body as a boxing bag. That may still come, but for now, the king remained on the spot.
“I’m done with him, Bones,” Matthias murmured as he stood by his bedroom window. The wolf whimpered and came to stand beside him. “For once, I want him to feel how he makes me feel, regardless of the consequences.”
Extract information from her . . . What did his father honestly expect him to do?
Shaking his head, Matthias paced his room.
He wouldn’t try to gather intel from her, no—but there was something else he could do.
Half of his mind screamed at him. This wasn’t part of his plan. Lie low, gather enough money with winnings from the fights, pack his things, and leave with Bones at his side.
That was the dream.
Get away from this place and never look back. Was it really worth risking all of that for a woman he didn’t even know?
The way she’d looked at him during dinner stayed with him, though. Never had a woman said so much with a single glance. So much so that he was willing to give up his dream for the slim chance of her looking at him like that once more.
Maybe it wasn’t about the woman, though. Maybe it was more about pissing his father off.
Was that worth the risk of his dream?
Matthias pondered for a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He turned to Bones and grinned, “Yes, it is, and I know exactly what I’ll do . . . even if there are consequences.”
Throwing his cupboard door open, Matthias spied his Oscuro leathers, a uniform for soldiers. His father demanded he keep at least one uniform and at first Matthias wanted to refuse, but over the years, it had come in handy. He looked like an ordinary Thorn when he wore it. A perfect disguise. The prince threw a black cape around his shoulders, pulling the hood up over his head.
“Stay here,” he said, flicking a glance at Bones. Then he disappeared from the room.
The dungeon stairwell was empty when he appeared again, so he moved silently down to the bottom. Matthias pulled a brown glass bottle from beneath his cape and poured its contents on the stoney ground right next to a small wooden chair.
Reaching into his front jacket pocket, he retrieved a small cardboard box that housed little matchsticks. Matthias smirked as he scraped one against the side of the box, and a small orange glow appeared. He could have easily just winnowed into the Lightner woman’s cell, but where would the fun be in that? Chaos was infinitely more entertaining.
“I’ll show you disappointment,” he murmured as he dropped the match aglow with flame to the floor. Matthias didn’t wait around to watch the scene unfold. Winnowing into Adalia’s cell, he stood in the shadows until he heard the guards cry out.
A fire was the perfect distraction. No one would guess that it was him.
Silently, he moved across the floor and crouched down to her side.
Adalia. . . her name brought a wave of emotion he couldn’t quite label.
She was asleep, huddled in a ball. Matthias gently scooped her into his arms. He quickly glanced towards the door, ensuring the guards were still preoccupied with the fire in the hall, before winnowing out of the room. The sounds of people yelling echoed through the night.
They both appeared just shy of one of the Gates at the Oscuro Veil and Matthias hoped it was the right one—considering there were seven.
Adalia was light in his arms, her lilac wings encasing her like they knew she needed protecting. Groaning, she shifted, her head falling back over his arm as he cradled her neck. Chestnut waves tumbled beneath her and before she could register what was happening, Matthias gently laid her on the ground and started untying her wings.
His fingers grazed the soft lilac feathers, and it sent a shiver up his arm. Their brief touch pulled her from sleep and Adalia eyed Mattias warily through tired eyes.
Matthias spoke low. “The Grey is on the other side of the Veil. You can crawl through for your freedom or I can walk you over the threshold. The choice is yours.”
Adalia groaned in response. “Please . . .”
“Please, what little dove?” Matthias crouched beside her.
Adalia coughed in pain. “Please walk me through . . . the guards . . .”
Of course. If she crawled through the Gate, the guards there would simply march her right back to the king.
Standing, he carefully pulled her to her feet, her soft cries heartbreaking against the night air. With Matthias supporting her around her waist, they took slow steps towards her freedom.
Stepping through the Veil, the guards on the other side were wide eyed when they saw the duo appear.
Matthias flashed them a look that said if-you-want-to-live-don’t-ask-questions, as he dropped the hood of his cape–revealing his identity. “Touch one hair on her body and you will lose your ability to speak. Also, if I find out that you’ve run straight to the king, then I will hunt you down and make this hell even more personal for you both.”
The guards nodded furiously in response.
Matthias glared at them as he passed, supporting a barely conscious Adalia as he took to the skies.
Beneath the twinkling canopy of the night sky, the prince flew Adalia through District Seven. Once they’d reached an area Lightners were likely to find her, he dropped effortlessly to the ground and gently sat her against the trunk of a whispering aspen.
She looked at him, exhausted. “I suppose I owe you now?”
The prince grinned. “Maybe.”
Matthias stepped back, breath coming in shallow as she held his gaze. She didn’t speak again, but her eyes told Matthias a million different things.
He nodded in farewell before slipping into the shadows. He waited, watching from a distance as she got to her knees and crawled towards the Lucius Gate.
Not a drop of guilt for letting her go free found sanctuary in his soul, but the fear of his father tearing him to pieces did. He should have stayed the course, quietly biding his time for the escape he craved.
However, the awakening in his chest refused to be silent.