Deean takes a step towards him before finally deciding to wave him off and leave, done with the altercation.
Marcel’s breathing deepens as he claws at his chest. A dull red light fills the space around me. He now has the attention of me and the Queen.
He lets out a lowly cry before his body gives way and he falls to the ground with a thud. I give it a minute, in case someone has heard and tries to come in, before I make my way out of the wardrobe.
Racing across the room, I make sure the door is locked before I sprint back over to Saden’s future king’s prone form and draw my dagger. Lifting Marcel’s arm, I force a slit across the top of his forearm and watch the blood surface. The cut is oddly satisfying and comes without hesitation. Before the blood has time to hit the ground, I let it drop into the vial, filling it to the desired level as I squeeze more out.
As I wait, I watch him carefully, partially expecting him to spring up and have my head for what I’m doing, but I keep going knowing that she’s still watching.
He looks so much like Iann lying there. His features cause a sudden ache in my heart. If what Deean claimed is true, then Marcel knowingly slept with a woman Iann once loved. And to Iann it looks like I’m just another woman stolen by his brother.His cold actions at dinner and avoidance in the hall is justified, but I need him to know that this is out of my hands.
Once the vial is full, I apply pressure to the wound and make sure no blood has been left on the floor.
The necklace fades back to yellow and I feel my heart slow just a tad.
I tuck the vial carefully into one of my pockets and rush to the balcony. Cool air brushes over me, sweat instantly drying with the breeze.
My body stills when the rope is gone. I check the left side of the balcony but could have sworn I dropped down from the right. Both sides come up empty. The rope is no longer there. I look over, examining the wall in the moonlight. It’s not like the wall near mine and Chana’s room. There is nothing to climb up on.
“Hey,” I whisper-yell without speaking her name and being as loud as I can without drawing attention. “Drop down the rope.” All I get is silence despite a few more attempts.
Chana is nowhere to be found, I have no way to climb up, and who knows when the Prince will be waking. This night isperfect.
Running out of options and time, I head towards the only exit left. I unlock the door and let my hand linger on the knob. I don’t open it right away. Something tells me to snuff out the lights, so I run around the room until I’m left with only darkness. If I could carry him, I would drag Marcel to his bed and make him think he passed out, but I know I wouldn’t make it an inch trying to lift him.
I remove my fox mask and tuck it into a pocket. I could explain away the dark clothes but someone sneaking around with a mask feels more suspicious. Once I slip into the hall, I take one last look back into the room before I gently shut the door.
Turning around I prepare to sprint away in search of Chana, but my world stands still. Time itself is frozen and the only thing moving is my beating heart.
Iann stands down the hall, prepared to head into his room until he notices me. His face is hollow, and he has a hard time keeping his eyes on me.
“Iann,” I whisper, moving towards him, “Please, let me explain.”
He puts on a fake smile. “I would rather not hear the details. You can spare me that.” He taps a finger against his coat. “Plus, you don’t owe me anything.” His gaze is back on me, deepening, pushing forth guilt. Even though I didn’t do anything I know how it looks to him. “Good night, Lady Ariah.”
Lunging forward I call his name once more, but he continues down the hall and disappears into his bedroom, leaving me all alone.
I’m convinced the pounding of my heart can be heard by all of the people in the castle, as I rush back to my bed chambers. My blood is fueled by anger and worry and I can’t decide which emotion should be at the forefront.
Iann didn’t even give me a chance to explain. I know what it looked like to him, but had I had the opportunity to speak, the misunderstanding could have been an easy fix. Well, maybe not the fact I was hiding in his brother’s room and now carry a vial of his blood. Ugh! So not an easy fix.
Finally reaching my room, I rush in hoping her disappearance is part of another test for me, and she’s waiting for my return. But I grow weary when I find the room empty.I knock on the adjoining door, and after an unanswered second attempt I let myself in. Cool air instantly breezes over me from the balcony window we left open. Like mine, Chana’s room is also empty.
She was meant to wait for me, where the hell did she go? Growing concerned, I head to the room of the only other person who might know where Chana is.
At the end of the hall I come to a door and hesitate knocking. It takes a good minute to drum up the courage, mainly because I know this person will make a fuss about bothering them this late, but I knock nonetheless.
The first goes unanswered, as does the second and third.
At my fourth attempt, I place an ear to the door and hear a heavy sigh. “Vera?” I whisper loudly.
There is movement at the sound of my voice and a few seconds later the door clicks open a sliver, large enough to reveal her face, forms in the doorframe.
“You damn sure better have something important.”
From the crack in the door, I spot two long needles and a ball of yarn lying on her bed. “You knit?” It’s not the most pressing issue at the moment but it throws me for a second. She didn’t seem like the type to spend her time kitting.
“Ariah,” she says too calmly. “I’m only going to ask you one more time what you want at this hour?”
