Defy

by Sara B. Larson

  “Yes, sir,” the tallest man said. “You heard ’im, let’s get her down in the dark where she belongs.”

  I watched as the other men took her from the room, still struggling, her neck straining as she tried to speak through the gag. With what I hoped was an imperceptible shudder, I forced myself to turn away, to remain in control. Calm, collected.

  “Asher, take Jerrod and Kai out in the hall,” Deron barked out. “No one enters or leaves these chambers without being searched — do you understand? No one!”

  “Yes, sir!” Kai responded first. Jerrod and Asher both nodded as they all trooped out the door.

  “Alex, you, Rylan, and Jude stay here with me outside the prince’s bedroom door. The rest of you may leave. We have this under control.”

  “I’m not sure we should leave. Maybe you aren’t capable of handling this job. The king will want a report of how something like this happened,” the largest of the king’s men said.

  “I am the one in charge of the prince’s safety,” Deron said. “If you have a problem, you are welcome to make it known, but not right now. Right now we need to make sure he is secure.” Deron met the man glare for glare. “Alex,” he continued, without turning to look at me, “go to the prince and check on him.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. My heart skipped a beat as I turned, heading to the door of Prince Damian’s bedroom. Hopefully this time, he would be his normal, petulant self. I didn’t think I could handle any more surprises today.

  I knocked once and when there was no response, I slowly opened the door. “Your Highness?”

  The room was darkened, the curtains drawn. At first, I couldn’t see anything, until my eyes adjusted to the thickness of the gloom. The prince sat in his large armchair, his head between his hands, elbows propped up on his desk. His perfectly pomaded hair was actually in disarray. There was a feeling of heaviness in the room, as though the air had taken on the weight of something unseen, something pressing in, pressing down.

  “Your Highness?” I repeated, my stomach twisting nervously when he didn’t respond.

  Prince Damian lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine. There was a look of such unguarded unhappiness on his face that my heart lurched unwittingly beneath my ribs.

  “Alex,” he said, his voice low, in a tone I’d never heard before.

  “Sir?” I took a half step toward him.

  The prince stood up abruptly, turning his back to me, and I froze. A strange, unaccustomed silence settled upon the room.

  “Sir, are you … all right?” My heart beat harder in my chest.

  He drew in a sharp breath and I flinched. Had that been too womanly a thing to say? Would a man have asked after his well-being? I was a member of his personal guard — shouldn’t it be normal to be concerned if he seemed … out of sorts? This was twice now that I’d seen a side to him I never had before. I felt unbalanced, as though the ground I stood on were suddenly shifting beneath me.

  “The girl — where is she?”

  “She’s in the dungeon awaiting questioning, sir.”

  “Very good.” When he faced me again, the unhappiness, the something that was in his eyes, was gone. Here was the prince I knew. He reached up to smooth his hair back into place, his motions practiced, memorized, almost lazy. One eyebrow lifted while a small smirk slowly pulled at his mouth. “You will make sure she receives the full punishment of the law, I assume? You, who always puts duty first, right, Alex?”

  I wasn’t sure I understood what he was asking of me. It felt like there was an underlying question, a hidden meaning beneath his drawling voice. Sentencing Tanoori to death while practically yawning.

  “She will undoubtedly be punished to the full extent of the law, Your Highness. Your safety is of the utmost importance.”

  “As it should be. As it should be.” He lifted something from his desk, and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It looked like a trinket of some sort. He suddenly closed his fist over it, and I barely heard it clink against the signet ring on his finger. “I’m quite all right. It was a shock, of course, to have the servant come at me with a knife. But my men are good and stopped her in time, obviously.” A strange look crossed his face when he looked down at the object in his hand — that same hint of grief I’d seen earlier this morning when he briefly spoke of his brother. “If she had succeeded, though, do you suppose anyone would mourn my loss?”

  I stiffened. “Sir?”

  Prince Damian looked up at me, his expression hooded. “My mother is gone. My brother is gone. My father hardly realizes I’m alive. If I had died today, do you think anyone would have cried at my funeral?”

  I stared at the prince, at a complete loss for words. My hands were clammy at my side. “Sir, I … I believe there would be many —”

  “Would you have cared?” He cut me off abruptly. “If you had come back from the practice ring to find me lying here dead, would you have cried for me, Alex?”

  “Y-your Highness, how can you ask me such a thing?” I realized too late that my voice had come out too high, too feminine, but he didn’t even blink.

  “I suppose that’s my answer, then.” Damian set the trinket down hard on the desk and waved his fingers at me. “You may go.”

  I nodded, backing toward the door. “Yes, sir.”

  I had failed him somehow, but I didn’t know how to fix it. Or why I would even care to try. I was glad to be dismissed, grateful to leave behind the unexpected pang of concern for a prince I’d long ago convinced myself was as corrupt as his father.

  The door swung open without a sound — the hinges were well oiled. But voices lifted in anger greeted me. Deron, Rylan, and Jude stood in front of the doorway, their stances tense. Facing them were three of the king’s guard and Iker.

  “Captain, I require a word with you and Prince Damian,” Iker was saying. His greasy hair looked even shinier than normal and his robes were stained and wrinkled, as though he’d slept in them. I couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to garner such favor from the king as to become his chief advisor.

  “The prince is indisposed and needs some time to collect himself.” Deron glanced at me as I walked over to where they stood.

  Iker’s lips pursed. “The king is concerned for his son’s well-being and I have come to make sure proper measures are put into place to ensure his safety.”

  “I assure you that we have things well under control and that the prince will be more closely guarded than —”

  “That is not enough.” Iker cut Deron off. “By order of King Hector, one of you will personally stay here at night, guarding the prince’s door at all hours. He must have someone by his side at all times. We can take no chances with the life of the heir to the throne.”

  Deron was silent for a moment; a muscle stood out on his jaw. Finally, he barely inclined his head. “It will be as the king wishes. Alex is the best man we have. I will assign him to guard the prince’s door.”

  I stared at Deron for a moment too long. “You wish me to sleep here?”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Prince Damian’s voice made me jump.

  Iker bowed to the prince, then smiled — a smile as oily as his hair. “Your father is concerned for your safety. We are putting greater measures of protection in place to ensure your continued well-being.”

  “By making me a prisoner to my own guard?”

  I stepped aside as Prince Damian strode up to Iker. Damian’s expression was sardonic, his voice insolent. But tension hung around him like a palpable shroud.

  “Not a prisoner — imagine the thought.” Iker tittered. “Always, you’ve had such a lively imagination. No, you may continue your life as you see fit, but Captain D’agnen or members of his guard will always be with you to make sure no one can get close enough to threaten you ever again.”

  “I see.” The insolence was gone from Prince Damian’s voice, replaced instead by a coldness that made me shiver.

  “Captain D’agnen has assigned Alex to sl
eep here, in the outer chamber, to protect your door from intruders.”

  “Alex is going to be sleeping right here — outside my door?” There was a strange hint of bemusement in Prince Damian’s voice. He glanced at me with his eyebrows lifted. For some odd reason, I had to fight to keep from blushing. Men on the prince’s guard did not blush.

  “As the captain pointed out” — Iker looked back at me with a mysterious glint in his eyes — “your men are good, but Alex is the best. Surprisingly.”

  My mouth felt dry, but I forced myself to lower my head in acknowledgment of his somewhat backhanded compliment.

  Iker turned back to Prince Damian. “This ensures the king’s peace of mind for his son’s safety.”

  “As my safety is the king’s greatest concern.” Prince Damian’s voice was biting.

  “Indeed, Your Highness,” Iker said. “You are his heir.”

  “You will have to thank him for his concern on my behalf.” Prince Damian turned on his heel, heading back into his room, until he paused. “I wish to lie down and rest, maybe even use my chamber pot. Does Captain D’agnen or Alex need to come hold my hand? Make sure no one sneezes near me while I relieve myself?”

  It took every bit of control I possessed to keep my face impassive in that moment. I was torn between letting my jaw drop and bursting out in laughter. I could see the other men struggling as well.

  Iker flushed an ugly shade of puce. “Do you make light of the attempt on your life?” There was a strange note to his voice, but I couldn’t place it. Almost sarcasm.

  “Absolutely not,” the prince replied. “I only seek to know just how involved you — I mean, Father — intends to have Captain D’agnen be in keeping guard over me.”

  Iker met Prince Damian’s icy glare. “As involved as necessary to keep you from coming to harm.”

  “Well, as I see no one hiding in my bed with a sword or standing over my chamber pot with an ax, I believe I shall retire to my room. This has been an exhausting morning, to say the least.” Prince Damian yawned deeply as if to prove his point, walked into his room, and slammed the door shut.

  “You will do as the king wishes, won’t you, Captain D’agnen?” Iker’s glance paused on me before pinning Deron with a pointed stare. Iker’s eyes were such a dark gray, they almost looked black, and his skin was sickly pale. I’d never liked being around him, but after seeing him in his room the other night and after what he’d made us do to those girls, looking at him made my skin crawl.

  “Yes, we will do everything required of us to protect our prince.”

  I pressed my fist to my chest along with the rest of the guard and we all bowed to Iker. Even though I was completely panicked inside, I had to appear calm. There was no reason Alex Hollen, second only to the captain of the prince’s personal guard, would have a problem sleeping near his liege. Alex had nothing to hide. But Alexa did, and I had no idea what this would mean for keeping up my disguise.

  “Excellent. That is all.” Iker swept the other men with his dark gaze, then turned on his heel and exited the room, the king’s guards behind him.

  I stared after them, shifting my face into a mask to conceal the dread coiling in my belly. I had to get down to the dungeons right away, before Tanoori undid Marcel’s sacrifices to protect me by revealing my secret.

  MY FOOTSTEPS ECHOED on the stone stairs leading down to the dungeons. The outfit I wore was intended to intimidate: tall, heavy boots; thick gloves with metal knuckles; my sword at my side. That was what I intended to do — what I had to do. Intimidate Tanoori to keep her from revealing who I was. I’d managed to convince Deron to let me be the one to interrogate her, thankfully. My secret depended on keeping her silent.

  The dungeons were dank, the air hot and wet and stale as I descended into the depths of the palace. I’d always thought it would be cooler down there, but the dungeons were built above the forge and the heat of the constant fires seeped through the ground into the dark cells. It would be a kindness on our part to fulfill Tanoori’s sentence quickly. To die fast was better than to rot down here, slowly losing who you were to the dark, the filth, the stench and madness that claimed all long-term tenants of the cells eventually.

  “Where is the prisoner?” I asked Jaerom, the keeper of the keys. He was Deron’s cousin. Deron was taller, but Jaerom was bigger; his arms were the size of small tree trunks. His skin was slightly lighter than Deron’s, closer to the color of coffee, rather than the darkness of the nighttime sky.

  “She’s over here,” Jaerom said, picking up his keys and a torch, which he handed to me. I followed him to one of the cells and took a deep breath. “The cap’n asked you to do the questioning, huh, Little Boss?”

  “Yes.” I stared at the door that stood between me and possible discovery. Jaerom thought it was hilarious that I’d beaten his huge cousin in the fight to join the guard. Even though Deron had kept the captainship, Jaerom had called me Little Boss ever since. “I’d like to question her alone. Make sure no one comes or goes until I say so.”

  “Going to lull her into security and then go for the throat, eh?” Jaerom shot me a wry grin as he flipped through his key chain.

  “You know me too well,” I replied, watching as he selected the right key and pushed it into the lock. The dead bolt scraped back with the screech of metal on metal.

  “She’s all yours. Enjoy.” Jaerom opened the door with a flourish and I marched past him.

  I waited until the door shut behind me and his footsteps receded before I placed the torch in a bracket on the wall and turned to face Tanoori.

  She was still tied to a chair, the gag as tight in her mouth as it had been an hour before, but the fight seemed to have gone out of her. She stared up at me, motionless.

  “You are going to be tried and found guilty for the attempted murder of our prince.” I walked over to her, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword. “Do you know what the penalty is for would-be assassins?”

  She glared up at me.

  “Answer me!” I bellowed, pulling out my sword and leveling it at her throat in one swift movement.

  She gasped, pulling back instinctively.

  “Do you know what the penalty is?” I repeated, enunciating each word slowly.

  Finally, Tanoori nodded, and tears filled her eyes. She spoke, but the word was garbled by her gag. I lifted my sword to her face and her eyes widened in terror. But instead of cutting her face or fulfilling her sentence prematurely as she surely feared I was about to do, I used the sharp tip to pull the gag out of her mouth.

  “What was that?” I let the sword rest against her cheek.

  “Death,” she whispered, visibly trembling.

  “Yes, death.”

  “What’s happened to you, Ale —”

  “Why did you try to kill the prince?” I snarled at her, cutting her off.

  “It’s the only way.”

  I stared at Tanoori incredulously. How had a girl who was afraid of her own shadow when I’d last seen her found her way into such a position? I hadn’t known her well, but I had not pegged her for the assassin type. “The only way to what? Ensure your own death sentence?”

  “I know you recognize me. We all wondered what happened to you after your parents died. Someone said they saw Marcel and another boy being taken by the army. That boy was you, wasn’t it?”

  Hearing Marcel’s name felt like the red-hot tip of the farrier’s iron tunneling into my gut. I pressed the edge of my sword into her cheek, not hard enough to cut her, but enough to stop her from talking. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if you know what’s best for you, the only words out of your mouth from now on will be a confession and an explanation of why you tried to kill Prince Damian.” The fear in Tanoori’s eyes turned my stomach. Self-loathing filled my throat with acid. But my life depended on silencing her — and as much as I wished I could change things, Tanoori’s life was already forfeit. “Why did you do it?”

  “His death would end the war, brin
g down King Hector. His death would mean a chance at a normal life for the rest of us.” A dark shadow crossed her face as Tanoori lifted her chin, scraping her cheek on the edge of my sword, showing the first bit of backbone that led me to believe she really could be the one who had raced toward the prince with a dagger.

  “How could the death of the prince bring down the king? All it would mean is that an inferior relative would inherit the throne and his war.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, since you’re apparently one of the prince’s right-hand men.” Tanoori’s eyes flashed in the dim light, her tone snide.

  “What you’re talking about is treason. And for that alone, the punishment is death. Who convinced you that killing the prince would end the war?”

  “Why, are you interested in finishing the job?” She grinned at me, growing bolder by the second.

  “Silence!” I roared, pressing the sword against her throat again. The hot, rank air pressed in around me, slippery and stifling. The putrid smell of unwashed bodies and unemptied chamber pots was enough to make me gag.

  Tanoori leaned forward, as far as her bindings allowed. “I watched you practice with your brother. If pretending to be a boy is what you had to do to save yourself, it obviously worked well.”

  My hand trembled on my sword and I glanced wildly over my shoulder, terrified Jaerom could be eavesdropping.

  “I won’t reveal your secret, even though you sentenced me to death. I knew the risk I took and you’re only doing your duty. It’s the way of the world. But if you wish to help change the course of events, if you wish to do something meaningful, all you have to do is follow the river. The answer lies in the Heart of the Rivers for those who want to find it.”

  “I said, silence!” I yelled again, trying to cover up the unsteady beating of my heart, the pulse of fear and fascination that surged through my blood.

  Tanoori sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. I shoved my sword into its scabbard and pulled the gag back up to her mouth. Just before I got it into place, her eyes opened again and she whispered, “Please make it fast.”