by L. J. Stock
Damon, realizing he wasn’t going to win that argument with Alexa, narrowed in on Rasmus. “And you? What were you doing?”
“Stop it, Damon,” I snapped, taking Rasmus' outstretched hand and letting him pull me from the ground. “Don't you dare show up uninvited and act like me falling on my ass is the end of the world. If you'd really like to know what we were doing, it’s called having fun, but then you'd know that if you pulled the stick out of your ass.”
I released the warm hand in mine and offered Rasmus a smile of thanks. Alexa was trying to stifle her laughter behind me. I knew I was being unnecessarily cruel, but this preaching attitude of Damon’s was working my last nerve.
“You were unguarded, Cassandra.”
“In an empty grocery store, Damon,” I shot back in the same condescending manner. I stepped out of his reach and turned around, heading back the way I'd come. Getting upset at him again wasn't going to do any good, but in the heat of the moment, it had made me feel better.
For the first time in weeks, I'd been having fun – the free-spirited, uninhibited kind of fun only innocence could usually capture. Considering the predicament I was constantly in, wandering off alone could have been misconstrued as reckless, I supposed. We really hadn’t been paying attention, but for a moment, for one blissful afternoon, it had felt like there was nothing to fear.
“Cassandra,” Damon called after me.
“Leave her alone, Damon. Ras, could you go with her, please?” Alexa said, the authority in her voice unarguable. Not that it meant a thing to Damon. When he had a mind to do something he did it, and my behavior over the last couple of days probably hadn’t helped matters. I was confused and torn apart, and he had no idea why.
“Cass?” Rasmus called out, jogging to catch up with me.
“Sorry, Ras, I didn't mean to get you trouble for being neglectful.”
“Are you kidding?” He chuckled, slowing down to match his pace to mine. “I had a lot of fun. Damon caught us off guard, but he takes his job seriously. Don't be too hard on him. He just wants you to be safe.”
“Please, don't think me ungrateful. I just... Well, for one blissful moment, I was able to forget that my life is constantly being threatened, or that my destiny is laid out before me. It’s just hard sometimes. As grateful as I am for my life, these aren’t exactly the choices I would have made given the chance.”
I leaned against one of the posts that was sitting at the end of an aisle, the crown of my head pressed against the concrete. Rasmus didn't say a word and I appreciated it. With the wind out of my sails, I felt drained, so I turned and slid down the post until I hit the floor.
“You don't sound ungrateful,” he said gently, crouching in front of me, his hands taking mine. “I never thought about it that way before. All of us who were born outside of the court take our choices for granted. What we want to do for a living, who we want to marry, whether we want to have kids, or even what we want to have for dinner. Then there's you. Every move you make is scrutinized, watched and judged by a dozen different people at any given time. Every turn you take is scouted. You're not allowed to take risks. You can't even decide who you want to be with. I get why this is so hard, but we're here to protect you.
“Days like today… I don't think there was any harm in this. We weren't as vigilant as we should have been, but that doesn't mean this was wrong or reckless. Don't let him ruin that smile you were wearing when you took that three point shot.”
“You watch basketball?”
“You caught that?” He grinned, pulling me with him as he stood. “I sometimes hop over when the games are on.”
“You rebel,” I teased, brushing off the back of my pants.
“Well, it's our secret.”
I couldn't help but smile at that. “So, three times, huh?”
“The bar doesn't count. It's the same place for the length of the game and that's it. I also stated in an official capacity, and that’s not official.” He winked covertly.
I laughed, squeezing his fingers. “Your secret's safe with me.”
“Cass,” Damon said impatiently, coming around the corner. It sent my heart hammering in my chest, but I could hear the chastisement in his voice, his disappointment in my behavior. For someone two years older than me, he sometimes had the uncanny knack of sounding like a grandfather.
“Yes, Damon?” I groaned, looking past Rasmus at the approaching figure.
He stopped only feet from me, his eyes on the hands that held mine. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I wasn't about to make the situation even more awkward by dropping Rasmus' hands like they'd just burned me. He was a good friend. It was something I needed.
“I think we need to talk,” he said in a calmer tone. He was hurt, and I could see that in the way he watched me for a response. We did need to talk, but I also needed to apologize to him for my childish behavior. I just needed to get my thoughts in order.
“We will, I promise, but how about I cook us dinner first?”
“You, cooking?” Damon chuckled. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”
“None of you have faith in me.” I pouted.
“Then prove us wrong.” I squeezed Rasmus' hand as he smiled at me encouragingly, walking us toward Alexa who was standing at the end of the aisle, waiting with a mischievous grin and open arms. I walked into her embrace, thankful she didn't realize how much I needed it.
Failed Attempts
I apologized to Damon later that afternoon. He didn’t so much as ask for an explanation. He seemed to just accept that I was having a bad time and spent the afternoon trying to cheer me up, which made me feel even guiltier about what was going on, especially as Alexa had accused him of being joyless. Damon could be so much fun when it was the two of us alone. When no one was watching, he was adoring, funny and a constant source of laughter for me. How did I explain that to anyone, let alone Alexa, without giving my feelings for him away?
After my short day of freedom, the days flew by. I did a lot of thinking about what I needed to do and what I had promised. The days eventually melted into weeks, and I saw less and less of Damon. It hurt some days, more than I cared to admit, but I did what I had to do without complaint, even when Damon was kept busy more often than not on the days when the baron came to visit.
Unfortunately, Alec was a man of his word and was keeping his promise a little too well. Even on the days I was free and the baron couldn’t make it to the palace, Damon was sent to run errands. I was beginning to feel the time apart grow more in length and frequency. The only time I knew for certain that I would be seeing Damon was my training sessions, and they were becoming equally agonizing. Every sweep of my body to the ground, every brush of his heated breath on my skin served as reminders of what I couldn’t have, and it just made me want him all the more.
Between my time with the baron, my work with the king, training and my mother's ever-fluctuating decision about which child needed her the most, I found myself too busy to ruminate on the situation with any serious consideration. It was only when I was in bed and the darkness surrounded me that I had the time to dwell, which meant, once again, sleep seldom came. I found myself watching the shadows pass through my room, followed too soon by the dawn chorus of the birds beyond my window. After almost two months of this schedule, I was growing bone weary with exhaustion as my constant companion.
On a positive note, I was fast becoming an avid equestrian, even keeping up my practice on the farm with Acantha’s horses, much to Alexa's disappointment. Baron Sideris and I had an understanding. We had formed some bond of friendship. I even enjoyed spending time with him, and on occasion he could actually be amusing. It just sucked that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move him beyond the classification of friend. My head and heart were aimed at one person alone, and not even our time apart seemed to amend that.
I landed hard on my back on the mats, my breath rushing from me in a wheeze. The weight of Damon's body against mine brought my mind back into the
room I was in, and I gave him an apologetic look as he rose to his elbows, his body hovering over mine while his breath blew the strands of hair that had fallen loose over my shoulders.
“Where is your head, Cass? It's obviously not here,” Damon said, rolling from my body and onto the mat next to me. His hand landed on mine, and I closed my eyes as his fingers traced the tips. I didn't have the strength to pull away, because I couldn't deny I wanted it to happen.
“I'm sorry. My thoughts wandered.”
“And how did that work out for you?”
I rolled my eyes, even though I knew he was right. One small distraction was a huge part of winning or losing a battle. I couldn't afford to have my head out of the game.
“Not well. Consider it a lesson learned.”
“I would believe you, but it's been happening a lot lately. What's going on?”
“Overworked and underappreciated,” I teased, knowing he would pick up the lie interwoven in the sentence. He hopped up onto his feet and held out his hand, evaluating me as he did. With my hand in his, he pulled me upright with ease, my chest coming against his as his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.
“You have dark marks under your eyes, you've lost weight and your color is off. It's more than being overworked, Cass. You're not sleeping, and you’re barely eating. I know I haven't been around much, but you can always talk to me.”
Oh, how I wished I could. As much as I knew he would deal with it for my sake, there was a huge part of me that knew he would never understand my decision. There would be a part of him hurt that I had chosen to try at all.
“I know that.”
“Then why are you suffering alone? Ras has no idea what's bothering you, either. Is it something in your dimension?”
“Please, Damon, stop. I'm fine,” I said, stepping out of his embrace and moving to the edge of the mat. I stretched a little to regain my composure and have an excuse not to look at him.
“You're as stubborn as a mule sometimes, you kn–”
Before the second syllable was out of his mouth, the doors to the ballroom were thrown open and four men entered wearing the masks I'd only ever associated with our enemy. Damon reacted immediately, and crossed the room in three strides, his large body shielding mine as he faced the men closing in on us.
“Damon, what is this?”
“Not real latros. This is a test.”
“The test?”
His nod was all the confirmation I needed. I'd forgotten all about the test that came with training. They had some fancy name for it, but in my dimension, it was known as hostage training. The only way to find out what would happen in a hostage situation was to live through it. I'd had some preparation on what to expect, and my body seemed to respond naturally.
“Keep your back to mine. We need to cover all angles or they'll try to separate us.”
I'd only seen four people, but when I saw two more follow, I almost groaned out loud. Aiolos and Charon stood by the door without masks, looking nefarious as they crossed their arms and leaned against the wall, watching their men surround Damon and me. As senior guards and secondary bodyguards to the king, they were some of the best trained soldiers in the Regius Custos.
The closer the circle of men came, the harder my fists balled at my sides. I watched the men I could see closely, all of the pointers coming to mind as they moved in like predators. My heart found its way into my throat with every forward advance and the weight of lead landed in my stomach, giving me a sense of dread.
“Focus!” Damon hissed behind me. I knew he couldn't see me, which was the only reason I didn't kick him myself.
I took a deep breath as my attention split between the two masked guards advancing on me and almost missed the hint of movement in the man to my right. The flex of his fist was the only sign of what was coming and before his body had moved, I ducked and kicked out at his leg, knocking him off balance.
Everything came so fast following that first move. All four men seemed to advance and I didn't have time to think about anything. All I could do was react. I stayed against Damon's back for as long as I could, but no matter how much we tried, the others were coming in fast and hard and the inevitability of separation finally progressed until I was in the middle of the room alone with the soldiers coming at me constantly.
I used every inch of my body for defense and attack. My right leg would land in the gut of one man while my left arm would block an attack from another. My body ached and the hits I'd already taken throbbed with promises of bruises later. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping the pain at bay and my body upright as I panted for air.
Spinning to take out the man behind me, I was faced immediately with Charon. He was huge this close up, his body towering imposingly over mine. His smile was sinister as he stepped forward to grab me, and my natural instinct to flee flooded my body. I stepped back, watching his eyes light up as he realized he had a chase on his hands.
Natural instinct or not, my training kicked in immediately and my backward step propelled me into a forward attack. My foot landed in his gut before I took off, knowing well I couldn't combat with him for long. The blow was simply to distract him while I ran.
It was just unfortunate that I'd completely forgotten the other men I had been battling, and the forward sprint meant I met the floor faster than I had expected. I flopped onto my back, my feet kicking out in defense as I clawed my way out from under them.
I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it, but I still wasn’t ready to concede. I had one man on my legs, another trying to catch my arms and Charon closing in on me quickly. It was all too much. I felt the tug on my hair before pain swept through my body and darkness enveloped me completely.
I had a glorious second of denial as I came to, and then the pounding started. The pain ran from my jaw to my temple and matched the pounding of my heart as my brain clicked online and my defenses rose. I tried to roll but I was attached to the chair I was seated in, the iron manacles cutting into the skin of my wrists and ankles as I struggled.
“Look who decided to join us.”
I opened the only eye that seemed to be working and took an inventory of my line of sight. It was more than obvious we were in the dungeons. The thick, heavy stone walls were cast in shadows, and the edges of the iron bars could be seen on my right when I turned my head. In front of me, shackled to the wall with his arms above him, was Damon, looking as bad as I felt.
The speaker, much to my disdain, was Charon. His smirk of victory was worn with pride as he rested his hands on my pinned forearms and leaned forward.
“Good morning.”
“Good? Waking up to that face does not make a good morning, my friend.”
The sudden wash of pain sank into me, leaving my head throbbing and my ears ringing violently. I smiled through the agony, glad I'd gotten to him enough to make him react. I heard Damon's chains rattle in response but refused to look at him.
“Come on, Princess. You're treading on thin ground here.”
“Princess?” I laughed, and let my head fall back before lifting it to meet his gaze again. “You have been sorely misinformed.”
I was as prepared for this slap as I was the first, and my head snapped to the side, making the ring loud enough to drown out whatever the man in front of me was saying as I rotated my jaw experimentally. Only when it faded did I realize Damon was trying to bring the attention to him.
“– hitting a woman makes you a real man. Untie me and we'll see just how tough you are.”
Charon laughed and headed across the room to Damon. Unfortunately, tied up as he was, he was in a more precarious situation than I was, and the standard boot to the stomach only made my own turn violently in sympathy.
“How fun… a pissing competition.” I yawned. My insolence was only going to get me in further trouble, but adding Damon into the insult would, hopefully, make it appear there was no personal attachment there.
Charon straightened out his large body and
turned on me. His chest was puffed out, the tendons and muscles in his arms tensed. The only thing that gave him away were his eyes. I could see the humor in them.
He barely made it two steps across the small room when the door opened and Aiolos gave a silent command. There was no discussion, no arguments. Charon simply changed his course and left. The door slammed home behind him and the retreating footsteps left the cell silent in its wake.
The lack of sound made the ringing in my ears louder and I took a moment to rotate my jaw again, temporarily easing the ache. I could feel Damon staring at me, but kept I my eyes away from his, knowing there would more than likely be a reprimand lingering.
“Provocation is not going to do you any favors.”
“I figured that one out, thanks.”
“Cass–”
“Yeah. I got it, thanks. I couldn’t let him–”
“Look at me.”
Whether I wanted to or not, my eyes met his, my sentence completely gone at the look he gave me. The shake of his head said it wasn't safe to speak about anything to do with the two of us. We were being monitored.
“Why are you here?” I asked in a bored tone, making an apologetic wince so he'd know I was performing.
“Probably to see how I'd do at protecting you. However, I would say you did a pretty good job of that yourself. It took three of them to keep you down.”
I smiled, even though it set the ache in my jaw into a whole new zone of pain. I was proud that it took more than one to take me out. It meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it was a personal achievement for me. It meant that I wouldn't be taken without a fight, that I could defend myself efficiently and effectively if it came down to it. Being surrounded by guards whenever I was in Mortisali, the thought of it coming to that was pretty scary, however.
“But I should keep quiet?” I amended, knowing what was coming next. The preachy tone he was using was a dead giveaway.