Liam lay on his hard straw mat at The Whistling Squire, his face covered with his hands. He couldn’t stop reliving the conversation he’d had with Margaret earlier. He didn’t know what he’d hoped for when she sent word she’d see him today, but it wasn’t that.
“You need to leave. Go home, or wherever it is you want to go, but you cannot stay here,” she said. “It isn’t safe for you to stay.
“I promised you—”
“I release you from your vow, Liam.” Her face scrunched painfully before she turned from him. “My husband will keep me safe now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
He put a hand to his chest, feeling like he’d taken a blow. “I’ll leave in the morning, Margaret.” Liam let out a heavy breath. “But I will not let you release my bond. It’s there forever.”
Margaret grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly. “Go, Liam. Please. For your safety—and for mine.” She kissed his cheek before leaving.
He knew she was right. It was reckless for him to be there. If he was found, he would be executed. Even worse, if the king found out who he was there for, they would execute Margaret right along with him. She would not get a second chance.
The thought kept him wide awake. Liam couldn’t be caught unawares. He would wait until it was full dark before he left the city.
Liam nearly jumped out of his skin when his door crashed open, and soldiers poured through the splintered door frame.
“Grab the traitor!” one of the soldiers yelled as they flooded the room, blocking off any escape route through the door they had just entered.
“No!” Liam yelled as he clambered out of the bed toward the window. He had just gotten it open when he was grabbed from behind. Liam yelled in frustration as his fingers slipped off the windowsill.
“You are under arrest by order of His Majesty,” the soldier that grabbed Liam yelled as he struggled to hold on to Liam by the back of his shirt.
Liam whirled on the soldier and punched him in the jaw. When the soldier stumbled back, Liam tried to get out the window again. Several hands grabbed anywhere they could reach on him, dragging him from the window. Panic squeezed his throat as he fell to the floor.
He couldn’t be caught—not again. There wouldn’t be any escape from the dungeons for him this time. Pushing himself from the floor, Liam held up his fists. He didn’t want to kill anyone like he had in his first escape, but he would if he had to.
Several soldiers advanced at once. Liam swung at the closest, letting out a growl when he was grabbed on the other side. He was knocked back, his other hand and feet grabbed by three other soldiers. Liam struggled, trying to pull his limbs from their grips to no avail.
“Make a path,” one of the soldiers ordered another before he was taken from his room and through the tavern.
Liam struggled harder when they reached the tavern floor. If he could escape in the crowd and through the city, he might have a chance. He kicked his feet out as hard as he could, nearly toppling one of the soldiers holding him.
The soldier holding his right arm briefly let go with one hand to hit Liam. “Keep at it, and you won’t make it to the dungeons,” he spat.
Closing his eyes tightly, Liam shook his head. The ringing in his ears grew louder by the second. He tried to pull his arm free, but the soldier had retaken his grip firmer than before.
Liam struggled until he wore himself down, muscles burning throughout his body. The soldiers escorted him through the streets, his exhausted body hanging between them, barely keeping him high enough off the ground to keep his head from banging on the cobblestones. It reminded him of the first time he was taken to the dungeons, but this time Nicholas Oliphant wasn’t around to whip him.
They made quick work of getting him to the dungeons, putting him in a cell further in than he had ever been before. Most likely they did not want him to inspire any sort of riots. There was no shortage of people who hated King Sorren in the dungeons, and he could easily be a figurehead for their frustrations.
Liam slammed his fist into the wall when he was thrown into the cell, letting out a roar of frustration. He should never have stayed in such a popular inn. Liam leaned against the wall, sliding down it and putting his face in his hands. He hoped the king would not find out his intention for his trip to the capital. He couldn’t bear knowing he had caused any more harm to Margaret.
Liam paced his cell—he didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been thrown into the cell. Was it mere hours, or the whole night long? Time meant nothing in the dungeons. He learned that too well the last time he was there.
He paused when he saw a shadow against the back wall of his cell. When he looked back, he saw the king standing there with a smirk on his face. “You!” he growled, going to the bars.
“Me.” Sorren grinned widely, stepping closer to the cell.
Liam was barely able to stop himself from trying to grab the king through the bars. “You’re the sick bastard who defiled my Margaret.”
“Your Margaret?” Sorren laughed at him. “Oh, my dear man. She was never ‘your’ Margaret. The duchess belongs to the nobility, and she could never have left to be with a commoner such as you, no matter how much you asked her to run away with you.”
Liam’s face paled slightly. “How do you know I asked her to go with me?”
“She tells her husband everything.” The king shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “And he in turn tells me so that he can have my Margaret.”
“She’s not yours. You took her against her will!” Liam spat, charging toward him despite the bars separating them.
Sorren stepped back, his arrogance losing its edge slightly. “That may have been true on many occasions, but I was the one who had her first, and you will never have her.” There was a sickening gleam of glee in the king’s eyes as he taunted Liam. “And I’ll tell you, Liam, what a fine woman she is. A shame you’ll never hear the noises I got out of her. Oh, her noises, Liam!” The king growled in appreciation.
Liam’s battered hands shot through the bars of his cell to grab at the king, letting out an angry roar. Sorren laughed at his efforts, backing out of Liam’s reach. “As soon as the executioner arrives, your miserable life will finally be ended, and you’ll be out of my hair forever.”
Liam slammed his hands against the bars. “I will find another way to escape, and I will kill you if I ever see you again.”
Sorren laughed again. “I’m sure you will,” he said before he walked away.
Liam let out another yell, shaking the bars. By Theotes, he’d get out of there again, and he’d see that man dead.