Gleam (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 3)

by Raven Kennedy

  Her brows swoop in together tightly. “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” I answer matter-of-factly. “So we need a new plan. If you want to leave this place, it’s going to have to be in secret.”

  “You mean escape?” she asks incredulously. “Are you an idiot? King Midas would hunt me down and drag me back to shove me in the dungeons.”

  “Not if he can’t find you.”

  Rissa scoffs, like the very idea is ludicrous. “You’re reneging on our deal.”

  “I’m not,” I say adamantly. “But I know him, Rissa. I don’t care that you’re his best royal saddle. He won’t believe for a second you’ve been given enough tips from other people to buy yourself out of your contract.”

  She holds herself very still, lips pinched together tight with anger, although there’s a slight downturn to them that I don’t miss. Now that I’ve planted doubt in her head, she either knows I’m right or doesn’t want to risk it.

  Since she’s not outright threatening to spill my secret or storming away from me, I take it as a good sign. “You can still be free, and I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen, so long as you agree not to go through Midas, because we’ll be caught in an instant.”

  Rissa chews on what I’ve said, though her hackles are still up, apparent by the stiff line of her shoulders. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ll help you plan an escape out of here. I’ll also make sure you have enough gold when you leave that you’ll be a very wealthy woman.”

  “Getting out of Ranhold without anyone the wiser will be impossible.”

  “Not impossible,” I argue. “Not if we plan it meticulously.”

  “And the gold?” she asks.

  I hesitate. “I can’t get you coin. Midas’s power... ”

  Rissa runs a frustrated hand over her hair. “Gild me some damn curtains for all I care. I told you before, there’s a cost to your secret, Auren, and you have to pay. You were able to tap into Midas’s power enough that you turned a man solid gold,” she reminds me. “I want my due.”

  “I can get you gold, but what are you going to do with it?”

  “I’ll find a blacksmith here to melt it down in exchange for coin. Pay him off for his silence,” she answers easily, propping her hands on her hips.

  My head is already shaking before she’s even finished. “Any blacksmith in Ranhold would know right away you’re stealing from the king, and they’d sell you out quicker than you could blink. You know it’s true.”

  Her mind seems to fumble, knuckles going white where they’re braced at her sides. She drops her hands and walks away from me, pacing the empty room as if the shuffle of her steps will help her mind work out the new path I’ve laid down.

  “I can get you gold,” I say again, my eyes following her. “But you have to promise not to do anything with it until you’re far away from Ranhold.”

  “Fine,” she grudgingly relents as she comes to a stop. “I can see the merit of that. It would be a risk to pay off a blacksmith and try to trade for coin, and I don’t have connections here like I did in Highbell. I don’t want to risk being ratted out. I’m far too beautiful to waste away in a dungeon.”

  My lips twitch. “Definitely.”

  “You do realize that the saddles are always guarded, don’t you? You’re saying I can’t buy out my contract, but then how do you expect me to leave without being caught?” Her tone is wary, rife with disbelief, but I’m one step ahead.

  “I’ve found a way into the royal library,” I tell her. “And every royal library always includes the blueprints of the city. Including the castle itself.”

  Understanding floods her ocean blue eyes.

  “It might take some time for me to search, but I’ll find the blueprints and chart a path out of Ranhold. Every castle has fail-safes and secret escape routes. It’s just a matter of finding them. While I do that, you’ll have to be the one to figure out a form of transportation. Something clandestine and inconspicuous.”

  She thinks for a moment. “The saddles are allowed trips into the city. I suppose I can try and find a way to arrange travel.”

  “Good.”

  Rissa’s blue eyes scour me. “Just because I’m agreeing to this change of plan doesn’t mean I completely trust you. I still want gold. At least a couple of pieces per week.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up her hand. “That’s non-negotiable. Think of it as paying me for my continued silence.”

  “Fine,” I say reluctantly. “But you need to have a good place to hide it. We can’t be caught, Rissa, and if any gold is found, I’ll be implicated as well as you.”

  “I have a spot,” she assures me, tone tinged with confidence.

  “You’re sure?”

  Irritation crosses her beautiful face. “Don’t patronize me. I’ve lived with a gaggle of saddles nearly all my life, always sharing a space. I know how to keep things hidden that I don’t want others to steal.”

  Fair enough.

  My feet shift beneath me. “There’s one more thing to our new deal.”

  Her teeth grind. “What now?”

  This is the part I’m really worried about.

  “I’m going with you when you leave.”

  Silence drops between us like a sudden rockslide, boulders landing at our feet in a heavy plummet. Rissa rears back with shock. “Are you out of your mind? You’re the gold-touched favored. King Midas will never let you go. We couldn’t possibly pull something like that off.”

  “We can,” I argue, hoping like hell that I’m telling the truth, speaking with more conviction than I actually feel. “We go together. That’s the deal,” I say firmly, brooking no room for argument. “We get out of here together, and I’ll make sure you never want for anything ever again. It won’t matter if you run out of gold, because if I’m with you, I can get you more.”

  She doesn’t look convinced, but I see the flash of rapaciousness in her gaze. “You can steal his power like that, even from a great distance?” she asks dubiously. “Because I assure you, I won’t be staying anywhere near Sixth or Fifth Kingdom. When I leave, I’m getting on a ship and sailing as far away as it’ll take me, where I never have to see a single speck of snow again.”

  “Let me worry about the gold-touch magic. All you have to do is stay quiet and get us transportation out of the city.”

  She looks me up and down. “You don’t blend in, though. You’ll give us away.”

  “I’ll keep myself covered and figure something out,” I promise her.

  She stares at me long and hard, while I try not to bite my bottom lip or wring my hands. If she turns me down, if she sells my secret to the next highest bidder instead...

  “Fine.”

  My eyes jerk to her face. “Fine?” I repeat back, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re sure? Because this is a dangerous game, and we could both be punished severely.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” she snaps. “I’m not a fool.”

  My heart leaps with hope. “Then we’re in this together?”

  She sighs. “I suppose.”

  I can’t help but give her a tentative smile before I hold out a gloved hand for her to shake. “We’re on the same side. You handle your end, I’ll handle mine, and then we will get out of here. We’ll be free, Rissa.”

  She hesitates for a second before taking my hand. Her hold is hard, fingers squeezing mine. “Don’t double-cross me, or I’ll make you regret it,” she tells me, ruthlessness in her face.

  Well, it’s certainly not a friends forever promise, but it’ll do.

  Reaching into my pocket with my other hand, I pull out the gold apple and watch her eyes widen. “No betrayal. No double-crossing.”

  She releases my palm to snag the fruit, testing the weight of it before she stuffs it in the pocket of her dress. “Alright, Auren. We’re on the same side.”

  She doesn’t have to tag on the unsaid
words of that sentence. The or else is implied.

  But maybe, just maybe, the two of us can learn to trust each other enough to get the hell out of here and not have to do it alone.

  Here’s hoping.

  Chapter 12

  AUREN

  As I leave the saddle wing, I debate how to get back into my rooms without being seen, but the decision is ripped right out from under me when a worried looking Scofield comes barreling down the hall.

  I freeze and glance left and right, which is stupid since there’s nowhere to hide and he’s already seen me anyway.

  “My lady, how did you get here? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaims, rushing forward.

  “How did you know I wasn’t in my room?”

  He stops in front of me, brown hair disheveled. “I had a feeling you’d gone against the king’s orders,” he says as he fidgets with the golden buckles of his uniform. “Plus, I kept knocking on your door, and you didn’t answer.”

  “I could’ve been sleeping,” I say defensively. “Honestly, Scofield, that’s a little rude to jump to conclusions like that.”

  His brow furrows. “But you’re not sleeping.”

  “Well, you know that now.” I look around the empty hall. “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

  Scofield shakes his head and scratches his sideburn. “Not that I know of. I had someone take my post so I could come looking for you, just in case. The others thought you were just ignoring me.”

  “See? That’s a much more reasonable assumption. You should listen to them next time.”

  He gives me a pointed look. “They were wrong.”

  I just shrug, like that’s beside the point. “Well, you found me now, so you can escort me back to my room if that makes you feel better. Lead the way.” I gesture down the hall. “The sooner you get me back, the less of a chance King Midas has of finding out that I snuck out during your watch. He probably wouldn’t be too happy with you.”

  I feel a bit guilty about the way the blood drains from Scofield’s face as the weight of my words sink in, but I’m not above playing dirty.

  Too bad Midas is already waiting in my room when we get there.

  My stomach drops as soon as I open the door and find him standing inside. Scofield makes a choking noise next to me, while Lowe avoids eye contact in the hall.

  As I pause in the doorway, Midas’s unreadable gaze flicks over me. “Close the door,” he orders.

  Swallowing hard, I step in, swinging the door closed behind me before I face him. He has his arms crossed in front of him, and he’s dressed impeccably. In formal pants and a long shirt, he’s buttoned from collarbone to hips with elaborate filigree embroidered along the length of his tunic. I briefly wonder who he’s dressed to impress today, but I’m more distracted by the set of his jaw and the cut of his glare.

  To keep them from trembling, I clasp my hands in front of me.

  I have the power. Me.

  Those silent thoughts help me steel myself against the onslaught of temper I know I’m about to receive.

  His brown eyes pin me in place, like a pair of needles to stick me against the door. “Where were you?”

  I raise my chin. “I told you I wouldn’t stay locked up.”

  All of the still silence bursts out of him at once. “I did it for your protection!” He takes a step toward me, hand slashing in the air like he wants to cut off my rebellion at its knees. “I let you out of your cage,” Midas tells me, as if I should be grateful, as if he did any such thing.

  “No. I let myself out.”

  Midas pauses at the look on my face, and for a moment, I know he’s remembering the way my ribbons lashed out and ripped the iron door off its hinges and threw it at him. How he was slammed to the floor, stunned beneath its weight.

  “I told you I didn’t want you leaving this room.” He pulls at the bottom of his tunic and lets out a firm breath, like his determination in the matter has settled it.

  It hasn’t.

  “And I told you that I won’t be locked away. I promised to keep guards with me and to be careful. I’m not your pet to be kept anymore.”

  Midas’s eyes darken. “You are not allowed to wander around during daylight hours, and that’s final.”

  The coals of my anger begin to glow, begin to build and heat. “It is not final!”

  His regard over me is a cursory sweep that hooks onto my balled fists and knotted arms. “You’re different since you came back.”

  My expression goes stony. “And you were different the moment you put on a crown.”

  He doesn’t like that answer, not at all.

  I shake my head. “What happened to you, Midas?” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it’s a question I keep asking myself. Was he always this way? Or like a frog put into lukewarm water, did I just not notice the slow progression of the rising temperature of his greed until I was being boiled in it?

  A storm gathers on his brow. “I grew up, Auren. I figured out what I wanted, and I took it.”

  “You got greedy.”

  He closes the space between us until that storm of his hovers over my air and threatens to douse everything light and warm.

  “Greed is relative. I saw an opportunity to make my life better. And yours.”

  “You took advantage.”

  A bursting scoff escapes him. “Stop with the dramatics, Auren. Stop with this rebellion. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “No, the problem is that it doesn’t suit you.”

  That’s the real truth of it. I’m a pet to be kept and a tool to be used, and if I do or say anything remotely individualistic, anything that he doesn’t like or control, then he wants to squash it beneath his heel like a bug.

  “Enough,” he seethes, making me flinch. “You’re acting like a brat.”

  I rear back at the insult. “A brat? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Watch your tongue,” he growls, finger raised to point at my face.

  My spine stiffens. “I will say what I want, and I will leave this fucking room when I like, and you can’t stop me.”

  You can’t stop me

  can’t stop me

  can’t

  The words palpitate between us, clogging in his ears and thrumming on my tongue, because there it is. The ugly truth that he never wanted me to know: that power doesn’t just come from magic. It comes from your own grit. And I have both.

  The look in his eye makes me want to turn away, but I manage to hold my ground. “Careful, Auren. Be very, very careful.”

  Every word is a lash of warning.

  My breath heaves, that dark, coiled anger in my chest writhing and poking with feathers and beak like some unnamed beast. I’m trying to plan smart, to play the long game and disappear right out from under his nose, but he will not keep me captive. My soul can’t take that again.

  I hold the power.

  Me.

  I don’t care how long he’s tried to trick me into thinking it was the other way around.

  “Or what?” I challenge, my voice cracking like a whip.

  He wants to threaten me, and the creature that’s bloomed under my skin wants to rise up and strike him down for it.

  I’m not sure what I let through in my expression, but Midas’s eyes narrow. “Hmm. I can see our time apart has done more damage to you than I first realized.”

  I let out a humorless laugh. “You think I’m damaged because I refuse to be locked away like a mad person in an asylum?”

  “Listen, I have plans in motion, and Third Kingdom is due to arrive soon, so I cannot have you acting out of line. A lot rides on this, and you need to do your part. That means gilding whatever I tell you to gild, and staying where I tell you to stay. You went through some traumatic events, and I am sorry for that, but I’m not your enemy. I’m your protector and your king.”

  My cager and betrayer.

  “I’ll gild whatever you want,” I tell
him, “unless you lock me away again.”

  The ultimatum lands like a star falling from the sky and exploding on the ground. The fire in the hearth burns low, a soft orange glow to compete with the shadows between us.

  He watches me for a long time. Just the two of us staring at each other like strangers. I’ve never not given him everything he ever asked for or bent to his will. The bastard can’t say the same for me.

  Finally, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “Oh, Auren.” His tanned hands come up to bracket his hips like he’s bracing himself. Yet there’s condescension on his face, and I wonder if he would look at me like that if it were still daytime. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice.”

  He digs into his pocket and then holds his palm out, revealing a small golden piece of grimy metal.

  I frown down at the guard pin, eyes tracing over the bell emblem. “Why are you showing me that?”

  “You don’t recognize it?”

  Wariness paints over my face. “It’s the pin all the guards in Highbell wear.”

  Midas lifts it up, rolling it between his finger and thumb like a god holding the world in a threatening pinch. “You told me you thought your guard died with the Red Raids.”

  My mind races.

  Stumbles.

  Rolls down a cliff, scraped and scattered and left to fall.

  For a moment, all I can see is a flash of red in the snow and sweet blue eyes. All I can hear is, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

  His name yanks out of me like the dagger pulled from a chest. “Sail...”

  But Midas shakes his head, and I tear my eyes away from the pin to look at him. “No. Digby.”

  My free-falling mind slams to a stop. Dots of black appear in my vision like a starless sky ready to swallow me whole. I physically stumble back, barely catching myself on the bedside table as my knees threaten to give out.

  “Digby?” It’s a whisper, a plea, a bewildered breath. “What...I don’t...I don’t understand.”