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Adelaide awoke from a nightmare, a scream on her tongue and a pinch in her neck. Her body ached from lying on the hard stone. The cell was only around four feet deep and five feet wide. Bars separated her from empty cells on either side. The only item in the entire cell was a stained and odious wooden bucket shoved back in the darkest corner. Water dripped somewhere, and some other prisoner coughed in a distant cell.
She had naïvely hoped her incarceration would give her time to rest and process. Rest was difficult to come by on the cold stone floor with mice burrowing into her skirts. A few times she had caught herself wondering what Father would say or do when she saw him, how he would react to her being thrown in the dungeon. Then she would remember, and the pain in her heart would start all over again. But the nightmares were worse.
Once she dreamed of Nolan killing Father. She was stuck on the other side of one of Kirven’s barriers, able to see but unable to help as Nolan ran his sword through Father’s heart. In another nightmare, she stumbled past Father’s corpse to where Nolan and Kirven were torturing Regulus. By the time she reached Regulus, she was so weak she couldn’t even conjure a barrier. This time, she had awoken from a dream of Kirven burning his mark into her arm and handing her over to Nolan.
Every time, she woke to her screams echoing in the dungeons. No one checked on her. No one cared. She longed for Regulus’ comforting arms around her. She curled up alone on the stone, surrounded by the unfeeling darkness and iron, and cried into her arm. I’m safe, she reminded herself. They’re dead. They can’t touch me, or Regulus and my family. We’re safe. Except for Father. Father’s words about her nightmares after her rescue seemed prescient.
“They’ll fade. The memories. The dreams. And the pain. They won’t last forever.” When? “I don’t know. But they will. You will heal. You’re so, so strong, my dear. Don’t doubt that, all right?”
She wished Nolan and Kirven’s power over her life didn’t feel like it extended past their deaths. But even with their shadow hanging over her, she was alive. “Surviving isn’t weak,” Regulus’ voice whispered in her mind. Still, Kirven and Nolan had changed her in a way she didn’t quite understand yet. She felt like she had been broken and put back together a half dozen times over the last weeks, and she was different for it. More tender. Her heart more easily bruised. But also more resilient. A survivor.
Her empty stomach clenched. How long had it been since a servant had delivered a loaf of bread? Time was strange with no sunlight. She couldn’t even hear the chime of the chapel bells under all this stone. It could be morning. Could be the middle of the night. Or the middle of the afternoon.
Her heart longed for sunlight, and she was on the verge of insanity from not knowing the time. Adelaide had tried to ask the guards a couple times, but they ignored her. The servants practically threw her bread at her, then hurried away without speaking.
And oh, what she wouldn’t give for fresh air on her skin and dirt and grass under her feet. She might never wear sleeves again, Monparthian fashion sense be hanged. How did people live in dungeons for longer than a few days? It was torment.
And Regulus. Oh, Regulus. The only thing she wanted more than the open sky above her and nothing but trees, sunlight, and a misty morning all around her was Regulus. She wished he was with her. But she also didn’t. Somehow, knowing he was free up there made a part of her free, too. Even though he wasn’t there to comfort her, thinking about him helped.
As she watched the flicker of the torches stuck in the walls every few feet, Adelaide knew a few things for certain.
Father’s death would always leave an ache in her heart. That pain might fade, but it would never disappear.
It was going to take her a long time not to become nauseous or afraid when she thought of Nolan, even with him gone. But Regulus was right—his actions were his own.
She wouldn’t ever be separated from Regulus so far as she could help it again. And she was going to marry him at the earliest opportunity.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and she sat up, even though it sounded like a guard, not a servant. A man carried a sputtering torch to her cell.
“Belanger.” Antar smiled as he unlocked the cell door. “Time to go. The king would like to see you. You have an hour to get presentable and be back in this cell.”
“In the cell?” Adelaide stood and brushed off her dress, only smearing the grime further. “The king is...coming to the dungeon?” That made no sense.
“Oh, heavens, no.” Antar swung the cell door wide open. “It didn’t seem right, you being...you know.” He gestured at her bloodied and disheveled appearance. “Not after all you’ve done. Beale’s out purchasing supplies in town.” He winked. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Or at the least, he can’t stop.”
She stepped out of the cell and followed Antar down the hallway. “He doesn’t seem to like me much.”
“Yeah, well.” Antar cleared his throat. “He was good friends with Breck. Some of the guards saw you with Carrick just before everything went to pieces. Saw Carrick kill Breck first and you not helping. He has this harebrained notion you wanted Carrick to kill Breck, since you two didn’t get along.” He shrugged. “I talked him out of thinking you were on Carrick’s side, but he still thinks you didn’t care if Carrick killed Breck.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. Just thinking about teaming up with Nolan for anything made her lightheaded. Even if she hadn’t given Breck’s death a second thought, she wouldn’t have conspired to kill him.
It was morning—late morning. The sun was blinding, and she had to shield her eyes. Antar led her to her room. To Adelaide’s extreme disappointment, Regulus wasn’t there. Antar didn’t know where he was. But there was a tub of water. “I’ll be right outside the door when you’re done. I mean, I know you won’t run, but...”
“I understand.” She locked the door nonetheless.
A bar of soap sat on the table, next to the lantern—and the ivory-accented dagger. She stared at it, frozen as she remembered the sensation of the steel pressed against her neck. She shuddered and pushed her fear away. Nolan was dead. But she still hated that dagger. She threw a dirty shirt Regulus had left on the floor over the dagger.
The water felt amazing, if only a little warm. She used her magic to heat it further, then sunk in and rested her chin on her knees. She healed the bruises from the night on the stone, then scrubbed off the filth and stench. Her hair was such a disaster she climbed out of the tub before cleaning it. She couldn’t finish lacing her sky-blue dress on her own. The tangled knots in her hair fought her comb as she worked through her long thick hair. She was nearly finished when she heard voices in the hall.
“Lieutenant? What’s wrong?”
Her heart rejoiced at the sound of Regulus’ voice. She tossed the comb on the bed and made for the door.
“Ah, I can’t let you open that door,” Antar said. “For decency’s sake.”
“What?” Regulus sounded bewildered and flustered.
Adelaide unlocked the door and threw it open to a view of the back of Antar’s head. Regulus stood across from Antar, arms crossed, his mouth curved down, pulling on his scar. Dresden stood at Regulus’ side, a look on his face like he was sizing Antar up for a fight. Regulus looked past Antar as she opened the door. He broke into a wide grin. Etiros above, that smile made her heart dance.
Antar glanced over his shoulder and stepped out of the way. She barreled past him and slammed against Regulus’ chest. Regulus grunted, then laughed as he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. He smelled like linen and pepper and leather. And like he had been training, but she didn’t care. She held him like she might never get the chance again.
“Hey,” he murmured. His breath tickled the top of her ear. “You okay?”
“Yes. I am now.” She pulled back so she could kiss him and didn’t stop until Antar cleared his throat—twice. Regulus looked dazed. She turned and pointed at her back. “Can you finish lacing me up?”
“Huh?” Regulus said. “Oh, yeah.”
Deep red suffused Antar’s face, and he turned and faced down the hallway. Regulus grabbed the laces, but the dress didn’t tighten around the top of her torso. Instead, his lips pressed against her back between the laces. She blushed.
“I missed you, too.”
“I’m standing right here,” Dresden complained.
“Then turn around or something,” Regulus grumbled. The dress pulled closer around her shoulders and down her torso as he finished tightening the laces. He tied off the bottom and her breath caught as his mouth brushed over the base of her neck. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
She nodded, her heart running away in the best way possible. “More than okay.” His fingers stroked the side of her neck as he pulled her hair over her back.
“Marry me, Adelaide.” He kissed her cheek and slipped his arms around her waist.
“Great,” Dresden said. “In case you’re wondering, he likes to be called Captain or My Lord when he gives orders.”
“It’s not an order, you idiot,” Regulus said with a laugh.
Adelaide turned in his arms with a chuckle and curled a strand of his hair around her finger. His clear gray eyes were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “I thought we already agreed?” She leaned forward to kiss him again, but Antar cleared his throat like he was trying to get the attention of an entire courtyard.
“You should, ah, finish brushing your hair. I need to get you back to the dungeon before Beale gets back.”
Regulus frowned. “What? Why?”
“Rules are rules to Beale. Rules are...bendable when Beale’s away.” Antar motioned her back into the room. “Compromise so she can look like a lady in front of the king.”
With reluctance, she left Regulus’ arms and returned to combing her hair.
“The king has asked for her?”
“And you,” Antar confirmed. “Couldn’t find you, but I figured you’d show up. I have a servant boy looking for you, though.”
Regulus reddened. “I, um...”
“Snuck out?” Antar asked.
Adelaide froze with the comb in her hair. Surely he wouldn’t have done something so reckless, not now.
“Oh, no! Drez and I maybe...kind of...practiced our swordplay in the king’s private training yard.” Regulus shrugged. “No one ever uses it.”
Adelaide held her breath. Then Antar laughed. “This is selfish of me, Hargreaves, but I hope the king keeps you two around. You keep things interesting.”
Adelaide finished combing her hair and braided it. She slipped on clean boots and tied a narrow navy cloth belt around her waist, then stepped out of the room. Antar led her back to the dungeon. Regulus accompanied them, holding her hand until they reached the guard room, at which point Antar wouldn’t let him continue.
“I’ll see you soon, mareh piahre.” Regulus ran his fingertips around the edge of her face.
“And then no more splitting up. For real this time.” She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear. “The sooner I can call you my husband, the easier that should be.”
She left Regulus staring after her with a ridiculous boyish smile as she followed Antar back to her cell. She paced back and forth to keep herself from sitting down or leaning against the bars and soiling her dress. Finally, footsteps echoed down the hall—but it was a servant bringing food. Nervousness about seeing the king reduced her appetite, but she managed to eat most of the bread before more footsteps approached.
Beale opened the cell door and wrinkled his nose as she stepped out. “How’d you get cleaned up?”
She smiled and waved a hand. “Magic.”
He stared for a moment, then shrugged. “Come on. You’ve been called to an audience with the king.” She followed him back to the guard room. Beale selected a pair of manacles off the wall and walked toward her.
“Seriously?” Adelaide stared at the shackles.
“It’s protocol.” He grabbed her hand and closed the cold manacle around her wrist. “You’re not above the rules.” He locked the other manacle in place. The round metal bars laid heavy on her wrists. “Let’s go, Belanger.”
Regulus stood waiting outside. His face clouded as he strode toward her, eyes flashing. “Manacles, sir? Really?”
“Protocol,” grunted Beale.
Regulus ground his teeth and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“No touching the prisoners.” Beale glowered at them.
But Regulus didn’t let go. “What’re you going to do? Shackle me? Fine, but we’ll be late.” Adelaide had to purse her lips to keep from smiling at the irritated look Beale gave Regulus.
“Fine.” Beale motioned them forward. “Just keep walking.”
