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Violet’s heart skipped at hearing the surname. Luna. Because she was supposed to be his. Had she taken his name when they wed? The Magistrate could have changed it automatically, although she hadn’t requested it. Not that it mattered. The marriage was a farce, after all, even if her heart ached with the thought of it.
“Yes?”
“I’ve heard that the gaol has another, less frequented entrance underneath the temple. By the crypts.” Laura’s brows rounded as her gaze darted around the small room. “People in town say the place is cursed, which keeps most away. Use that one instead, as I imagine it’s not guarded.”
Violet nodded, not saying thank you out loud. Words weren’t her strongest quality, and she was grateful to Laura for her help. However, knowing herself, her own mistrust would accidentally slip out in a snarky remark. Best to say nothing at all.
With a tilt of her head, she was out of there.
* * *
The governor’s house was a large building for such a small city. Standing three stories high, with gesso-stained plaster and walnut-colored windows, it rose proudly against the night sky. A stone chimney with iron pipes jotted from its clay roof, billowing smoke into the air.
Violet watched from her spot between two bushes as a guard walked the perimeter of the home. He looked miserable, wearing a tall fur hat, drenched and dripping rain water onto his face. She herself felt a bit less like a drowned rat after she’d spent the rest of the afternoon in Laura’s rooms, warming up and waiting for nightfall. It had seemed safest to hold off until then before any rescue attempt. She could only hope Gavin hadn’t suffered for it.
There weren’t many guards in place. She’d counted five, three by the entrance, taking cover from the weather, while the others took turns walking the gardens. No magic hugged their bodies, and being this exposed to the unforgiving elements would only make them more sluggish and tired.
An easier target for a trained soldier like herself. Still, they outnumbered her, and five against one were odds she’d rather avoid. Especially since they were likely not the last line of defense she would meet.
Maybe the entrance by the crypts would have been a better choice, but who could guarantee it was even there? She’d debated heading there instead as she waited, but she couldn’t just put Gavin’s life in the hands of a human who listened to the town’s gossip, however well-intentioned. Plus, even if it was real, Laura had mentioned that it could be cursed.
Violet didn’t have time for what could be or what ifs. She needed certainties. Flattening her lips, she shushed away the nagging voice in her head. The path she was going to take toward the building was now burned in her mind, as she’d been obsessing over every stone she could see from her hiding spot. She took a sharp breath to calm her frazzled nerves and set off.
Running through the grounds, she became only one more shadow of the night. Her magic sheltered her from view.
Violet jumped over the five-foot iron fence, ignoring all the ways her muscles objected. The metal squeaked as she pushed her body over the vertical bars and avoided the sharp, rusty spikes at the top. The movement strained her hip, and acute pain shot through her wound, a firm reminder that she was still healing.
She sneaked through the garden like a thief, past bronze statues of male figures wearing elegant tunics. The evergreen shrubs that grew against the outer wall of the building proved to be a safe hiding spot. The guard who was completing his second round of the house blew warm air into his hands, rubbing them together before grumbling something under his breath.
Violet almost felt sorry for this poor soul, and what she had to do. She lay in wait as he marched closer to her hiding place. When he wasn’t looking, she shot a ray of energy into the bush opposite her.
The guard stopped, his head snapping toward the moving leaves. Turning his back to her, he approached the bush with tentative steps and nudged the area with one boot. At the same moment, Violet leaped after him, aided by magic. Two fast steps, and she was upon him.
The scream died on his lips, and he fell to the ground beside her in a tangle of limbs and sharp bones. She pressed her hand over his mouth and rested her blade against his throat. “Move a muscle and I’ll cut you. Nod if you understand.”
Her Obsidian was rusty, but the guard swallowed and nodded.
“The King’s commander brought a prisoner here this afternoon. Where is he?”
“I-I can’t. He’ll kill me if he finds out I told you.”
“It seems to me you don’t realize your current predicament, then.” With steady hands, she nicked the skin of his throat with the edge of her blade.
Of course she didn’t intend to harm this man past this demonstration of power, even if he didn’t cooperate in a timely manner. But he didn’t need to know that. Especially since the looming sensation that she was running out of time weighed down on her.
“The gaol is a series of tunnels underneath this entire property. Not all of us have access, and I don’t have the keys. I swear.” His voice shook as he blinked the raindrops from his pale lashes.
“Where is the entrance?”
The man pressed his lips together, and Violet lowered her blade to his neck once again with a growl. “About ten feet south from here, behind the ivy. Please, I have a family—”
She smacked his scalp with the pommel of her dagger, hard enough that he sank into the ground unconscious almost immediately. Her breath clogged her throat as the sound of Gavin’s skull being smashed by Julius’ metal staff echoed in her mind. So similar to what she’d just done.
Feeling queasy, she dragged the guard’s body behind the bushes where she’d been hiding before. Then she dug through Gavin’s bag, which was still hanging across her chest, and pulled out a thin rope. She didn’t have to use much to tie his arms behind his back and his legs to the bush. She used Gavin’s gauze to gag him so he couldn’t shout for help when he regained consciousness.
Her actions shamed her. She’d been commanded to do similar things in the name of His Majesty the King. This was different. This had been her choice, and while it had bothered her all the times she’d done it before, now she questioned it. Could she have gone about this differently?
Maybe if she’d taken the crypt’s entrance, she wouldn’t have had to knock this man out…
