Her piercing words hit me like an arrow. The burn of tears pricks the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “I don’t want your gross stalker husband. I thought you’d be happy—”
“Happy?Happy?” she squawks, her voice going up an octave. Her cheeks flush, and her hands clench into fists. “Why would I be happy that you wish to destroy my marriage?”
“I must really be in a different realm, because it’s super fucked that you’re mad at me for telling you that your husband is going around practically mauling any woman who puts him in his place.”
“Notany woman, Hannah. Justyou,” she says through gritted teeth.
The sound of hooves beating the ground breaks the tension, and we both turn as a figure rides up. For a moment I’m pulled from time, and my heart leaps at the thought that it might be Kane.
The figure grows closer, clearer, and the illusion shatters.
Highgate dismounts smoothly, pausing as he takes in the scene. “Is there a problem, my love?”
Marion’s eyes narrow. “Hannah has informed me of your…advances,” she says, her voice quaking with barely contained anger. “Is it true?”
Highgate won’t meet my gaze as he frowns and scrubs his hand over his face. “Yes, however—”
“How could you? How could either of you?” Marion’s voice rises to a shout, her hands trembling at her sides. “And I suppose you’re here now to what? Finish what you started?”
“I’m here to get you, Lady Ashwood.” He rubs his chest, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Four has apprehended your husband.”
I go completely still, my heart plummeting into my stomach.
“You’re here to be her knight in shining armor?” Marion snaps, her voice cutting through my shock.
“As a favor to Ashwood,” he says, shaking his head. “I suspect I encouraged him a bit too much in his words against Four, and I know you are but a woman, Lady Ashwood, here for the pleasure of man, and I am not that man. I cannot help but feel I have overstepped. This is my way of trying to make amends.”
Marion scoffs and inhales for another biting retort, but I don’t give her the chance.
“He knows the truth,” I say, my voice wavering. “Four knows.”
Marion snaps her mouth shut and trades a frowning, befuddled look with her husband.
They may not know the secret, but this is one Ivy didn’t keep from Four.
“Take me to him!” I shout.
The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the lawns as Highgate mounts his horse and pulls me up into the saddle. I don’t want to be this close to him, but I know it’s the fastest and safest way to return to the palace.
I clutch the saddle with a white-knuckle grip as thehorse lunges into motion. Marion follows, and we gallop away from the Tower in a cloud of dust, the golden light fading, and the world plunging into darkness.
Twenty-Five
I run after Highgate as we silently slip through puddles of moonlight, his figure a thin shadowy silhouette against the imposing stone walls of the rear of the palace. Tears streak my cheeks, and I can’t tell if they’re from the biting wind or the despair that no matter where I go, I can’t keep my life from falling apart.
We reach a dimly lit doorway where a lone guard stands watch. Without a word, Highgate pulls out a small sack from his cloak. The guard peers around Highgate and eyes me suspiciously before holding out his meaty hand. The pouch lands in his palm with a jingle. He opens it and takes out a single gold coin. He bites it between his yellowing teeth and, with a grunt of approval, drops the coin and the sack into his pocket.
Highgate turns to me, the hood of his cloak shading his eyes and nose like Batman. “This is where I leave you, Lady Ashwood. And be warned, you don’t have much time. Four wants you in this dungeon too.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You’re a complete ass, but I appreciate this.”
His lips thin, and he disappears into the shadows along the perimeter of the palace.
The guard steps forward and opens the heavy iron door leading to the dungeons. The metal groans on its hinges, echoing through the stone corridor beyond. A shiver runs down my spine as I step inside, the air growing noticeably colder, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The door slams shut behind me, and I stiffen as the guard brushes past, motioning for me to follow. His torch lights the way as we descend deeper into the bowels of the palace.
The smell hits me first—damp, mold, and the sour stench of unwashed bodies—and my stomach churns. Water beads along the walls, and my breath comes out in white clouds, the cold pressing into me.
