by M. Dalto
That said nothing about the overgrown thorn patches that pulled at her hair and tore at her clothes. Every so often she’d reach up to make sure the delicate comb remained in place; at that moment, its well-being mattered more than hers.
She was especially careful not to be seen, and only one patrol passed by as she neared the castle. It felt like an eternity as she held her breath and hugged a tree to keep herself hidden, but her presence remained unnoticed as they walked away. She waited until it seemed as though they wouldn’t be returning before moving again. As the dim sunlight of the suns dawn broke through the overcast sky, the stables were in view. She knew this was her chance.
Crouching down as low as her body would allow, she sneaked from the safety of the overgrowth’s cover to the base of the mountainous rock wall. If she remembered correctly, the wall would lead her around to the stables, whose steps would bring her to the lower depths of the castle, where she would hide until it was time to proceed.
But first she needed to get to the stables, she wasn’t going to get there any faster standing where she was. Soon she’d be betrayed by the daylight, so she needed to get moving on with her plan regardless of how hard her heart pounded in her chest.
Making sure the coast was clear from all directions, with her hand on her knife she moved away from the protection of the overgrowth to follow along the edge of the mountainside. She crept along the wall slowly, and when no patrol returned, she took advantage of her unanticipated freedom and moved faster as she kept her back against the wall. Keeping her peripheral vision clear on both sides but constantly moving forward with one foot in front of the other, she came to the corner of the wall and knew, by the sounds and smells of the horses, that the stables were on the other side.
She was so close.
Everything they had endured, and all she had suffered through, would soon be vindicated. Reylor would answer for his crimes and would serve out his sentence by her hand.
Lost among her daydreams, Alex’s impulsiveness got the better of her, and as she turned the corner to the stables, she was greeted by a welcome party with swords in their hands and arrows nocked on their bows.
At the head of the mob, Reylor smirked in the firelight.
“Empress, how nice to see you again.”
41
It wasn’t the plan Alex had in mind, but it would have to do for the moment. She didn’t resist when they put the rope on her wrists, but every inch of her being screamed in revolt at the feeling of the fibers against her skin. If she showed any sign of resistance, however, all of the planning and research she and Treyan and the Councillor had done over these last few weeks would be a waste. There would be time to give into overthinking later; they were going to take her to exactly where she needed to be. Being escorted inside the castle was much more convenient than being outside trying to sneak in.
With Reylor in the lead and Alex close behind, the group worked its way slowly up the stable stairs. She kept her head down as they made their ascent, her mind racing through the possible scenarios awaiting her as soon as they were back within the castle.
In no way did she want to be back.
She never wanted to step foot within the Borderlands again, never mind Reylor’s castle.
But in her head, and in her heart, she knew that this task needed to be completed. She knew that the fear and panic that wanted to tear her apart from the inside needed to be held at bay because the Empire needed her to do this, now more than ever. She and Treyan needed this if there would ever be a chance for them to live the lives they were destined for. The longer Reylor went unpunished, the longer their lives—their Empire—were at stake. The Empire would never get the full attention it deserved—not if she kept wondering if Reylor would ever make an appearance again. Turning back now was not an option.
Once they entered the main floor of the castle, the door to the stairway was closed and locked behind them. Alex to cringed as the sound echoed through the hallway. Reylor smirked at her discomfort, and with a nod, dismissed all but two of his mages, who remained behind Alex as they proceeded down a nearby foyer.
He led them to a small sitting room where he paused outside the door to turn his attention to his mages. He only held out his hand, and the mage to his right handed him a dagger. Alex flinched as Reylor turned in her direction but slowly opened her eyes when she discovered he was only cutting the rope at her wrists.
Without a word, he grabbed her by the elbow and led her into the room, closing the door behind them before his mages could enter. Alex wretched herself out of his grasp and hurried as far away from him as the small room would allow.
He merely watched her with his back against the door, the same amused sneer across his lips.
“So tell me, Empress, to what do I owe this honor?” The confidence in his tone was astounding.
Alex tried her best to return the confidence while she rubbed at the rope burns on her wrists. “You already knew I was coming by the warm welcome I received, so why don’t you tell me?”
His smirk remained. “We had been expecting you for a while. Of course, I knew the moment my patrol reported back that there was a scout within the tree line that you had finally found your way back. From there, we monitored the boundary line closely with our own scouts—who are much better at their job than you, I might add—and when it was discovered that the Empire’s own Queen Empress was gracing us with her presence, well…” He smiled his disgusting smile. “We couldn’t let your arrival into the Borderlands occur without fanfare.”
Alex shrugged. “Congratulations, you caught me.” There was no point in arguing.
“Yes, but now the question remains…why?” He stepped away from the door and walked over to her. Instinctively, she backed away from him, but the room was so small she ended up in a corner. He was too close for comfort, and all she could do was close her eyes and take deep breaths to keep herself calm. She wasn’t going to allow him to do what he wanted this time, and needed to keep a level head if she was going to escape unscathed.
“Tell me, Alexstrayna,” he whispered as he leaned in closer. “What made you come back? Did you realize your rightful place was by my side? Did you want the twins to be raised by a father who could help them achieve their true potential? Or did you just want more?” His hand came down to touch her stomach and she felt her temper rise.
“You said so yourself. Nothing more than a scouting mission,” she answered through clenched teeth.
He chuckled at her expense. “You expect me to believe that? There’s no possible way Treyan or his Councillor would ever allow the pregnant Queen Empress out of their possessive sight.” His hand went to her cheek, and she closed her eyes tight at the sickening memory of his touch. “No, there’s something else going on here. We just need to find out what it is.”
He brushed her hair out of her face, and the Mark upon her forehead came into view.
“Shit,” she swore under her breath.
“Oh, what is this? Empress, have you met my mother?” His fingers brushed against her scar. She wasn’t purposefully trying to hide the Mark, but the less Reylor knew, the better.
“The Mark of the Empress,” he continued thoughtfully. “I suppose, then, my plan is working out perfectly.”
He began kissing her neck, almost as if he was taking it upon himself to celebrate some victory. She swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. Remain calm, she instructed herself. Keep centered and think quickly.
She decided to play his game.
“All in due time, my Lord.”
He stopped and looked up at her, as though uncertain he heard her correctly. “My Lord, you say? I do like the sound of that. Yes, Empress, we will have plenty of time”
His eyes remained on hers for a moment, the blood red irises defining his current position in life.
He grabbed her arm suddenly, which interrupted her train of thought, and began walking to the door. “Since you’re going to be staying with us, we’ll need to make yo
u comfortable. I’ll offer you my quarters, of course.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she tried to interrupt.
“You know better than that, Empress. I’m sure you’ll want to bathe before tonight’s celebration.”
“What celebration?” she asked cautiously.
Reylor leered at her as he glanced down from the corner of his eye. “Your return must be celebrated! You’ve been missed dreadfully since your departure.”
“You mean, since you let me leave.”
“I released you with a purpose, which seemed to work out better than expected, for here you are.” He smirked again, proud of himself.
She bit her tongue. She only needed to bide her time, allow the moon to rise, and be done with this once and for all.
42
Reylor’s quarters were far more luxurious than she would have expected from The Betrayer. Once a prince, always a prince, she deducted as she surveyed the contents of the room. Aside from the obvious infatuation, there was no mistake as to why he chose to keep her in his rooms this time around, for every window was barred, and every exit locked. Apparently, the former Lord Steward was also a sucker for security.
He stood in the doorway and watched as she meticulously scanned her new surroundings, and only smirked at her discouragement. She kept an eye on him while she continued to explore, and it seemed almost an hour before she was sufficiently satisfied in that there was no easy way out. What did catch her attention, however, was the fireplace on the side of the room farthest from the windows and balcony. She kept this in mind as she began to consider the plan forming in her head.
She was where she wanted to be, but she needed to tread lightly. She was still the object of a psychopath’s obsession, and she doubted her pregnancy would delay him in doing anything he wanted to her again. She felt her heart pound harder against her chest as the memories returned and tried to take those same deep calming breaths before turning to face him.
“Well, what now?” she asked.
He shrugged from his position against the doorjamb. He held himself similarly to Treyan, and she found herself missing her husband, and hating Reylor even more for it. “I’m sure I could think of a few ideas, Empress.”
“No,” she held up her hand, silencing him. She would play his games, but not that easily. “You mentioned a celebration in my honor. I’m assuming I’ll be allowed the time to properly prepare myself?”
“Of course,” he acquiesced as he walked from the door into the room, Alex being certain to maintain a safe distance at all times. “The washroom is there,” he motioned to a door on his right as he sat in a nearby armchair.
She watched him incredulously. “You won’t even give me the decency of a moment’s privacy?”
“These are my quarters, Empress. You are a guest within my home, unless you would prefer to spend your time within the castle’s dungeons? Mind you, I can’t remember the last time someone tended them.”
“Fine,” she cut him off before he could entertain that thought any further and walked straight to the washroom.
Once inside, she shut the door tight behind her, and with a sigh of relief discovered she could lock it. There were no windows or other doors, and the room was cold. The only light came from a candelabrum on the wash basin’s counter top, and those candles were already burning low. Taking advantage of the time alone, she began pacing the length of the washroom, back and forth, and allowed herself to panic.
What was she going to do?
There was no longer a chance of her surreptitiously planting the Key without his discovering, and now that he knew she was here, there was no possible way he was going to give her a moment’s rest. She was exhausted, of that she was certain, but she would need to remain on her guard from that moment until the time was right.
The Key.
Her hand quickly reached up into her hair to retrieve the almost-forgotten relic. The delicate hair comb was cool under her touch, and she gently removed it and held it carefully in her hands before her. The weight of it was practically nothing, but the gravity of the power it possessed was beyond her comprehension. It was an exact replica of her coronation comb, and just as beautiful. To imagine that so much power was contained in this little accessory was beyond her.
Her anxiety again began to rise. How would she ever find the time to plant her exit home?
She was startled by a pounding at the door, so much so that she almost dropped the hair comb from her hand.
“Shit,” she yelped as she juggled the delicate accessory in her hands and clutched it tight to her chest when she finally had it securely in her possession.
“I do hope you’re alright in there, Empress,” Reylor shouted from the other side of the door. “The lack of movement has me concerned for your well-being.”
“I’m…I’m alright,” she stammered as she looked around, trying to find somewhere secure to hide the Key to her way home. Thinking quickly, she carefully placed the comb on the edge of the wash basin’s counter, removed her shirt from over her head, and wrapped the hair comb in the garment to keep it hidden and safe.
With her shirt off, she resolved to continuing on with the task, so she removed her belt next, taking extra care to hide the knife under her shirt, and it wasn’t until she bent over to remove her pants that she realized how utterly sore she was. The ache in her back prickled with a burning sensation from her waist to her ankles and standing straight took more effort than it needed.
She was quickly beginning to reconsider her resignation to undertake her task in the first place, especially in her physical condition, but shook the idea out of her head. There was no going back now, even if she wanted to—at least not until she had the freedom and the safety to plant the Key.
Perhaps a bath was exactly what she would need after all.
The tub was already full. She imagined that was the silent order Reylor gave his guards earlier upon their dismissal, but she didn’t give it another thought as she stepped into the lukewarm water and relaxed her naked body below the surface. Despite her current circumstances, the bath was exactly what she needed to help calm her nerves, and she closed her eyes to enjoy a few moments of peace while she regained control of her thoughts.
Not a moment later, the pounding sounded on the washroom door again, and she growled at the lost minute of peace.
“Alexstrayna, I do hope you’re not considering terminating your existence while you’re in there.”
She glared at the door silently, both irritated by the interruption, and annoyed that both brothers assumed she would so easily give up on living whenever she was taking a bath.
“I’m fine,” she growled.
“Good. I believe it’s time to finish up. The celebration will begin and you’re not the only one in need of refreshing.”
She rolled her eyes at the thought of Reylor pampering himself and stood up in the bath before he began to concoct any darker ideas. As soon as the chilled air touched her wet skin, she noticed there were neither towels, nor a robe, within the vicinity.
“Fuck.”
“Is something wrong?” he called out to her, still eerily idle by the washroom’s door.
She thought she heard a muffled chuckle in his voice as she stepped onto the cold stone floor. She would dress the clothes she put on, but she would have nowhere to hide the hair comb or her knife. Fuck indeed.
“I don’t have a robe.”
“Ah, I see. Yes, that could be unfortunate, but I do believe there is one right out here that is available for your use.”
She started at the door. “Of course, there is.”
“Now, open the door and I’ll be happy to bestow it upon you.”
She was starting to shiver as the air hit the water on her skin. Alex knew she didn’t have another choice or she was going to catch pneumonia due of her stubbornness. She begrudgingly padded over to the wash room door, hesitantly unlocked it, and slowly opened it just enough to look out, but definitely not enough for him to loo
k in to see her.
“I’ll take that robe, please,” she requested as she reached her arm through the crack.
Reylor was less than accommodating.
“No, Empress, I said I would bestow it upon you.”
Glancing over at the hidden hair comb and concealed knife, Alex let out a breath and proceeded to open the door to the bathroom, folding her arms across her chest in a last attempt at dignity.
He entered with his eyes wandering up and down her naked body. “Alexstrayna, even in your current condition, you are as radiant as ever.”
“I’m pregnant, not maimed!” she snapped, holding out her hand for the robe.
He merely smirked with the garment in his arms, his eyes remaining on her as he slowly walked around and stopped behind her. She felt his breath on her neck as he leaned in close, and the slightest touch as he swept her wet hair over her shoulder began to render flashbacks deep in her brain. She closed her eyes to keep her panic at bay, though it was beginning to be very hard to do so.
He paid no attention to her unease and placed the robe over her shoulders, his rough hands grazing every possible inch of exposed skin as he did so. She quickly put her arms into the sleeves, wanting to conceal as much as possible, but when she reached back to tie the belt, he was already a step ahead of her. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he tied the robe shut for her while his chin rested on her shoulder.
“There, are you warmer now?” he rasped into her ear.
“I’m fine.” She pulled away from his grasp, not forgetting to pick up her pile of belongings from the counter top and walked into the main bedroom chamber.
The dress that awaited her stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t know where it came from, and she didn’t she want to know either. Somehow, he had a gown of black satin and red lace readily prepared and on display for her. She tried not to think about him keeping the dress on hand, on the off chance she was going to stop by, but she still couldn’t ignore the beauty of such a thing.