by Frost Kay
Time…that was the one thing Tehl didn’t have. Hopefully they would get what they needed today.
Ten
SAGE
Sage’s eyes flickered open as light filtered through the window, dancing across her eyelids. The window allowed just enough light to warm a small portion of the otherwise icy floor.
Sage cursed, irritation and alarm surging through her. She’d fallen asleep without realizing it. Last night had been rough.
She shivered in the damp cold. It seemed her recent wardrobe additions were not enough to ward off the chill, but the memory of their acquisition had her smiling in spite of herself. She’d mopped the floor with those idiots, and stealing their uniforms for warmth was icing on the cake. When their commander arrived after the fact, his expression had been priceless. Sage smirked. She couldn’t wait to tell Rafe.
As terrifying as it had been initially when the men came for her, she’d enjoyed putting them in their place. It was an image she wouldn’t soon forget; the Elite sprawled across the floor, naked.
The commander, or Prince Samuel, had retrieved his men with muttered curses, all the while attempting to burn a hole in her head with a dark glare. As he left, she’d heard him bellowing at Jeffry; he was obviously displeased. Her glee was short lived, though, when he camped outside her cell shortly thereafter. The cursed man had stayed all night. Unlike her, the cold stone didn’t seem to bother him at all for he began snoring as soon as he lay down. Sage had stayed awake, knowing she couldn’t allow herself to be so vulnerable in his presence.
In the middle of the night, she’d glanced to where he’d been sleeping to find he was now watching her. Not to be cowed, she’d stared right back, watching him watch her, neither of them speaking a word. For hours, they’d stayed that way, until the fingers of dawn trickled through the window. He’d then silently rolled up his pallet and disappeared down the corridor. Sighing in relief, Sage had leaned her head against the wall, only for a second, and that was the last thing she remembered.
How could she be so careless?
Sage shifted and winced with the movement. Pain coursed through her, reminding her how bruised her entire body was. She unclenched her hands and noted they looked a little blue. It was stinking cold down here. Sage scooted into the sunlight, exhaling a happy sigh as sunlight warmed her back. Stars above, she hated being cold. Sage took a slow breath in and closed her eyes.
“Enjoying yourself, I see.”
She stiffened at his voice but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort. Her eyes snapped open as she stared unflinchingly at the commander standing before her cell. He moved like a damned cat, quickly and quietly, nothing to warn her of his approach.
“Jumpy are we?” he mused, leaning a shoulder against her cell. “Never fear, I don’t bite too hard…not unless you ask me to that is.”
Oh, he was the epitome of arrogance. It was even in his posture, his stance. But there was also a cunning glint to his eyes, and that gave her pause. She’d have to tread carefully with this one. Rumors were circulating about the young commander; he was cunning, ruthless, an incredible strategist, and an accomplished womanizer. A deadly combination, for sure.
Two could play his game though, and she doubted he’d ever encountered an opponent of her level. The ‘helpless, innocent woman’ wouldn’t work; she’d blown that cover to smithereens after taking out his men. The trollop however…now that had potential. She mentally grimaced at the idea of pulling it off though.
Seductress, how unoriginal, though simple at least. Men. All you need is a little skin and they become so stupid.
Preparing herself, she lowered her lashes and peered through them with a smile.
Let the games begin.
She uncoiled from the floor and arched her back to allow the sun to halo her figure. She watched as his eyes skimmed her curves.
Bait set.
Sage unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through the raven tresses like she’d seen the women of the night do. Her silky waves cascaded down her back.
“See something you like?” The words were ash on her tongue though she maintained the façade.
“Quite a few things actually,” he crooned back.
“Oh?” she inquired, letting a sensuous smile slide across her lips. Hips swaying, she sidled close to the bars, pausing just out of reach. Sage gestured lightly to his face and quirked a brow. “And how did you come by that scar?” She took one step closer and pointed to his face again, making sure to cock one hip.
Meeting her eyes, he grinned broadly. “Boys being boys, we engaged in a fierce snowball fight but, sadly, the losing team felt it necessary to pack theirs with stones.”
Well, that was an unexpected response.
The commander extended his arm in between the bars, brushed a piece of hair from her shoulder, and traced a line of scar tissue at her collarbone. Every fiber of her being rebelled against his touch, and she clenched her teeth to keep from shoving him away.
“And how did you come by this scar?”
She debated lying and yet…perhaps a little truth would keep him talking. “Boys will be boys. I guess we have something in common. Whenever the boys played at swordplay, I wanted to join. So, one time they gave me one of their wooden swords but ganged up on me. I walloped them but one managed to crack me on the collarbone, gifting me this little token.” After falling quiet, Sage brushed her fingers down his temple, tracing his scar. His breath hitched at her contact, and she inwardly grinned, satisfied that things were so far going as planned.
“It only adds to your beauty,” he breathed, slipping his hand from her collarbone and into her hair. She looked from the scar to his eyes and froze. His clear blue eyes were frosty. Unease crept up her spine. His actions and words didn’t match the ice in his eyes. Sage tried to slip back and out of reach, but his hand tightened just as quickly.
“Where are you going? Why don’t we keep discussing your childhood? I’m very keen to learn all about you.”
She tugged harder only to be pulled roughly against the bars. What an idiot she was; she should’ve known better. Sage had meant to play him but he’d turned it around and played her even better. She’d sauntered right into his web thinking she was the spider not the fly. Rafe would rebuke her for such an idiotic mistake.
Prince Samuel leaned toward her. “First rule of hand-to-hand combat: never allow your enemy to get a good hold on you.”
She grinned, feigning confidence. “It seems we’ve reached an impasse. You have to open the door to get to me.” Her grin shifted to a feral smile. “And when you do, I can fight and maybe I will end up with your clothes to keep me warm as well.”
His eyes gleamed and a wicked smile split his handsome face. “Gav, stop lurking and help me. That’s what you’re here for.” A tall violet-eyed man emerged from the darkened hallway to the left.
How long has he been there?
These two men moved like blasted wraiths.
“Open the door and cuff her, please.”
The other man opened the door to her cell and moved toward her. Fighting, Sage clawed at the commander’s arm but his grip stayed fast. She went limp, hoping her dead weight would catch him off balance and give her a chance. Instead, the commander reacted not at all, and it accomplished nothing, except for ripping a few hairs from her neck.
“Stop fighting. If you don’t you’ll just hurt yourself further,” the other man growled from behind her. Sage could not let them pin her. She shot her foot back, connecting with his shin. He grunted in pain but wrestled her arms behind her back, and she writhed against both men, angering her damaged ribs. Before she knew it, cool metal clasped her wrists and closed with a faint click. Cuffs. She tugged a few times against the metal restraints but nothing. She was well and truly caught.
“If you stop pulling at the restraints, you’ll spare yourself bruised and bleeding wrists,” the one called Gav warned. His touch was firm but not unkind. He moved to her side and leaned ag
ainst the bars, staring down at her.
She couldn’t stop staring at the unique coloring of his irises.
Purple eyes? Who had purple eyes?
“You have the most incredible eyes,” Sage blurted. Her face heated. Where the hell had that come from? Heavens above she needed to get a grip.
His eyes widened, crinkling at the corners. The commander’s snickering caught her attention as she faced forward.
“Ah damn. And here I thought you fancied me.” Prince Samuel’s knowing smirk infuriated her. She would wipe that smug expression right off his face as soon as she had the chance.
Sage gave up her pathetic role as seductress and allowed her disgust to manifest itself. “I wouldn’t fancy you if you were the last man in the whole of Aermia. I’d venture to say you’re more a woman than I am. How much time do you spend before your looking glass?” She mirrored his smirk.
His smile dropped. Leisurely, his eyes skimmed her face and hair. “You’re not wrong but perhaps next time you’re attempting to seduce someone you ought to glance in the mirror yourself. Dirt, blood, and bruises provide little appeal.”
Her cheeks burned once again for it was true, she was a mess. Sage had been so focused on escaping she hadn’t considered the state of her face. Prince Samuel let go of her, and Gav gripped her bicep, moving her toward the cell opening.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.
“You’ll just have to see,” was Samuel’s flippant response.
Again, she threw herself to the floor, but Gav’s grip didn’t budge. He hauled her up, giving her a stern look. “Ruby, are you going to fight us the entire way?” Gav looked quite exasperated.
Her fake name surprised her for a moment, but recovering she hissed at him. “Until my last breath.”
The two men exchanged looks. The purple-eyed man slid his hand underneath her armpits, and the commander reached for her legs. She got in one good kick before her legs were secured and she was suspended midair. She bucked, but it helped her not at all.
Prince Samuel jerked his chin toward the other man, and they began to move. She registered pain in almost every part of her body. How would she escape now?
There was one thing she hadn’t tried, distasteful as it was. It was a last resort, but there was no honor in being dead.
So, she screamed.
At the top of her lungs.
Men rushed from the dark corners of their cells to their doors and began bellowing at the commander and his man. A chorus of shouts—“Leave her alone!” and “Don’t touch her!” and “Let her go!”—filled the corridor, repeating over and over, but neither man was even phased. They ignored the prisoners’ clamoring and continued. When they stopped at a dark chamber, her heart pounded in her chest. Chains clanked, and cool metal embraced one of her wrists. Sage yanked on her other arm and swung wildly. A large calloused hand caught her wrist and returned it to its shackle. Samuel dropped her feet, and she stumbled back into the stone wall.
She blinked several times, hoping her eyes would adjust to the dark. She heard the strike of flint and soon a flare of light burst from the lone lantern stationed on a sturdy-looking table. The floor beneath it was stained a dark brown.
Huh? She thought, Why is the—
Suddenly everything clicked.
Blood and lots of it. Blood stained the floor and table.
Bile burned its way up her throat, and she forced it down.
How many people were hurt in this room?
She tore her eyes from the stain and noticed a pristine porcelain cup placed upon the filthy surface. It was filled to the brim with some sort of golden, frothy liquid. A scent like apple pie wafted over and teased her nose, sweet and crisp. She knew it had to be drugged but her body didn’t seem to care, her mouth watered.
When was the last time she had a drink? Yesterday morning? Was this one of their tortures?
Sage forced her eyes away from the cup and back at her two jailers. They stood shoulder to shoulder watching her. Why was everyone always staring at her? She was so sick and tired of being stared at. She wasn’t an animal in a menagerie. “Well, gentleman? Get on with it already.”
“Are you done with all that screeching?” the commander inquired tugging on his ear. “Damn, woman. My ears are still ringing.”
She would have found it funny if he didn’t have her in chains. “I suppose…for the time being anyway.”
Prince Samuel gestured to the cup. “Would you like some?”
“No, thank you.”
“But Gavriel made it specially for you.”
Sage scoffed. “I’m sure.”
The commander retrieved the cup and sniffed it. With a shrug, he took a couple of sips.
Well it’s not poisoned at least.
Looking back at her over its rim, he asked, “So? Would you like some?”
Is this a test? she wondered. What reaction was he looking for? Best to not appear too eager.
Sage raised her eyes from the cup and noticed his grin. It made her want to punch it right off his stupid, smug face.
“No, thank you. I wouldn’t want anything that’s touched your lips to come into contact with mine. I don’t know where they’ve been,” she sneered. His grin widened. Why was he still smiling?
“You should ask your mother since they kept her busy all last night.”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him.
“Wha—what?!” Sage sputtered.
His sapphire eyes crinkled in amusement. “What is it, Ruby? Cat got your tongue?”
This was the man everyone feared? “Did you—” she paused, incredulous, “Did you just joke about bedding my mum?”
His smile now reached epic proportions. “Let me assure you, there was little sleeping involved.”
Sage once again sputtered and gaped like a fish.
“Oh, come on,” he teased, “You’ve got to admit you walked right into that one.”
She gave Gav a disbelieving look and frowned. “This is the man with whom the king has entrusted Aermia’s safety? Is this a joke or something?” she continued, shocked. “This is ridiculous. I must have died. Only in hell would someone joke about tumbling my mum.”
“You’re not dead,” Gavriel stated. “But you might be soon if you don’t drink what Commander Samuel is offering you. You need liquids.”
“What is it?”
Samuel approached her and placed the cup to her lips.
“It’s cider, plain and simple. Now open.”
Sage eyed the concoction but couldn’t detect anything because of her damn broken nose. The commander had already taken a sip yet he appeared to be fine, so she opened her mouth. More gentle than she expected, he poured the brew down, and it slipped refreshingly down her throat, coating her taste buds with its sweet and tangy flavor. Sage closed her eyes and savored it. Her parched throat rejoiced, and she gulped down as much as possible. In her haste, a portion of the precious liquid spilled, dribbling down her chin.
“Slow down or you’ll end up throwing it all up,” Samuel chided.
He tipped the cup up and she got every last drop. Opening her eyes, she stared curiously back at him. His famed midnight eyes matched his brother’s but there was something about the commander’s that intrigued her. His eyes were prettier than his brother’s and probably held more secrets too.
Wait, what? Why was she even thinking about this?
She blinked once slowly and took stock of her body. She felt giddy, yet a part of her registered that this wasn’t normal.
“What did you put in my drink?”
“We put nothing in it.”
“Liar,” she retorted.
It wasn’t possible, for her body was going soft on her. The commander returned the cup to its table and faced her. Both men seemed to be waiting for something. She looked to Gav. He looked like he was carved from stone. Why was he so serious all of a sudden? It struck her as funny and a giggle burst out of her. Oh dear, that was not a good sign. She needed t
o reel it in.
“What’s happening?”
“Gavriel has a sort of talent with chemistry. He discovered a manner of fermenting an apple, which alters its reaction in our body. Gav has a special name for it, but I always forget. But, anyway, after experimenting we’ve found that when administered in the right proportions it acts as a truth serum.”
She couldn’t feel her face well, but Sage was sure her eyebrows were raised. They had to be joking. There was no such thing. “You’re lying. I’m positive nothing like that exists.”
Think, Sage, Think!
Were they just trying to mess with her head? She needed to focus on her training. Closing her eyes, she repeated what Rafe had taught her.
Be the lie.
Live the lie.
She was not Sage. She was Ruby.
Vaguely, she registered Samuel speaking. Sage opened her eyes. “What’s that, handsome?” she asked with another giggle.
“What’s your real name?” the commander--or rather, as she liked to think of him, the prince—asked.
“Ruby. Like the gem, you know? All shiny and red. My mother used to have a necklace with rubies all in it.” Leaning forward, she strained against the chain and whispered, “But it wasn’t hers. She stole it!”
“Where is your mother now then, Ruby?”
“Oh, she died a while ago, when the Sickness came through. I don’t miss her much though. She said I was old enough to take care of myself, anyway. My brothers were just lazy bags of bones, but not me. When she kicked me out I learned to fend for myself. On the streets, I toughened up real quick and learned how to fight dirty.” She smiled. “You might have seen some of my work on the crown prince’s back?”
“And what of your brothers?”
Sage shook her head trying to clear the fog blanketing her mind. She needed to focus on her story if she wanted to make it out of this alive. “Filthy pirates is what they are. I haven’t seen them in ages,” she slurred. “Dirty rotten thieves, I tell you. They’re not important.” Her body tingled, so warm all over.