Page 27 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

Chapter Eighteen: Xander

I exhale out of my mouth, taking any opportunity I can to avoid the foul stench of the dungeon from assaulting my senses. It’s a fruitless endeavor. Reaching a hand to the top of my cuirass, I tug at the armor, agitation flowing through me.

The king had delivered an address to all stating that, in addition to the draft, taxes are increasing once again. Necessary to keep our kingdom safe, he claimed. Needed to arm men who might stand as the last defense should anyone attack. It is unsurprisingly bullshit, yet the nobles had clapped and cheered. Their sons, of course, are exempt from the draft. It is the workers of Vitour, and every surrounding town and city, who are being asked to give more. To bleed more of themselves in the name of a king who doesn’t care if they live or die, so long as his rule isn’t threatened.

Needed to arm men… should anyone attack. As if there is not a Spell at our borders. My thoughts drift to the princess, to Flynn. Mages have advantages that the other beings of this realm do not. Crossing through the Spell without consequence could prove dangerous, should they decide to attack. Was that the true purpose of Flynn’s time here in the Mortal Kingdom? To learn as much as he could so that he could bring the information back to the mage king, and they could prepare an assault? And where did Princess Rhea fall in all of this? The heir to the mortal throne is mage, and now she has sought refuge in the only kingdom that could possibly attack us with success.

Swallowing back my unease, I step off the last stair and walk towards Bella’s cell, my stomach unsettled. The last resistance meeting didn’t go well in light of the king’s newest demands. They wanted retribution. They wanted revenge. They spoke to me as if I had not lived with those emotions writhing inside of me like a virus I couldn’t shake for nearly two fucking decades.

I pass Immie reclining on her cot in her cell, a wave of her fingers aimed in my direction. Returning my gaze forward, I brace myself as the shifter’s cell comes into view. Despite the small bit of oversight I’ve been given by the king to question her, I have no doubt that when he grows tired of waiting for answers, he will send someone else in. I find myself relieved to see her standing just beyond the bars, a scowl already tugging at her pale brows and full lips. A scoff follows when I pass her cell completely, turning down the adjacent hall towards the door leading to the torture room.

“What are you doing?” she shouts, a twinge of fear shaking in her voice.

But I don’t answer as I enter the room, pulling the door shut behind me before walking to the wall holding a hidden tunnel entrance. On silent hinges, I pry it open and step into the musty space, going by feel alone as I hunch over and make my way through the dark to the opposite end, dust tickling my nose. Amber light stings my eyes when I pull the final door open and step into the secret room, casting a quick glance around to ensure I’m alone. I spot the supplies left by Grayson, a large bucket filled with water and a russet-colored pack, the sweet scent wafting from it a bargaining chip I’m hoping will sway Bella into talking more freely.

The resistance is restless, and with each terrible decision King Dolian makes, they will only continue to grow more so. I need to know where the princess fits in all of this, and I’m not above using sweet food and a bath as leverage if that is what it takes. Ducking back into the tunnels, I keep my steps slow so as not to spill water from the bucket. When I finally emerge on the other side and exit the torture room, I spy Bella pacing the length of her cell.

Frustrated amber eyes meet mine as I near. “You didn’t even check in to make sure—”

“Bold to assume that my only reason to visit the dungeon is to see you,” I taunt, making her words sputter. Ire seeps from her, the tight fists at her sides evident of that, but her anger is momentarily lost to curiosity when I set the bucket down. Dropping onto a knee, I pull the pack from my shoulder, rifling through it until I find a bundle of clean cloths. Metal scrapes against the rough stone beneath me as I push the bucket close to the cell before setting the cloths down next to it.

“What is this?”

“A bath. Well, as close as I can get you to one.” Her eyes lift, burning into me. It’s a sear I feel ripple over my chest, beneath the golden armor.

“A bath,” she repeats slowly, earning a raspy chuckle from the older woman in the nearby cell.

“I think he’s hinting that you’re a bit ripe, child.” Bella deepens her glower, but I ignore the glare in favor of digging once more in the pack, parchment crinkling beneath my fingertips. Leaving the shifter, I stand and walk to Immie’s cell, finding her propped up on an elbow.

“You try to tell me I need a bath, and I will curse your family, boy.”

“Just dropping off a delicacy,” I say, lifting the wrapped sweet treat to show her before bending to toss it through the bars and onto her cot. “And my family is already cursed without any extra help.” I remove my helmet as she hums in thought, eyes scouring my face and lingering on the cut of my jaw. Returning to Bella’s cell, I find her standing in the exact same spot, bewilderment still taut on her face. “If you’d rather not wash up, that’s your prerogative. No one is going to make you do it.”

“I know,” she snaps, but her eyes don’t leave the water. “I can’t help but feel like this is a ploy to see me naked.”

My abrupt laugh makes her eyes widen, the normally golden glow of her cheeks taking on a pink hue. “I can assure you, shifter, that is the farthest thing from my mind.” Searching through the pack again, I find the fresh clothing gathered by Tienne, bundling them up quickly before extending them out to her through the bars. Indecision wars in her gaze for only a few seconds before she yanks them out of my hand, clutching them to her chest. Turning, I take a seat on the ground with my back to her, armor scraping against stone. Tienne had suggested forgoing it in an attempt to make myself look like less of a guard. It’s a good idea, but the king insisted I find him after today’s visit. I’d rather have it on when in his presence. Bending my knees, I rest my elbows over them, my helmet set on the ground next to me.

“If you turn around, I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.”

Though I have no doubt her threat is real, something about the way she says it stirs an uneasy feeling within me. It’s the same one that took root during her story about how she came to be in the Mortal Kingdom. Mortal men had chased her towards death. I know that the majority of this kingdom is filled with good and kind people, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that there aren’t those who move through life with malicious intent as well. Clearing my throat, I stare at a notch made in the stone ahead of me. Water splashes, and the sudden urge to fill the silence overcomes me.

“So you somehow survive pushing through the Spell and into a kingdom not your own,” I say around the dripping noises, “only to find yourself locked in a tower with a reclusive princess. That must have been disappointing to a female who was just looking for an escape.”

“It was,” she answers, surprising me. “And did you bring any soap?”

Shit. I grab the bag at my side and search through it until I find the rose-scented bar. Scooting backwards, I wait until I’m close enough to see her cell in my periphery before blindly reaching a hand backwards. “What was your first impression?”

“Of my surroundings, or of Rhea?” Wet fingers meet my own, the contact brief as the soap is plucked from my grasp. Bringing it back in front of me, I stare at the streaks of water that glisten against my palm.

“Whichever you’re willing to speak about.” In truth, I only care about information pertaining to the princess, but I’ve realized that pushing Bella to answer a question she doesn’t want to is the equivalent of watching a dog chase its own tail. It gets us nowhere.

Dripping water hits the stone, and in the fixed silence before she answers, I grit my teeth against the annoyingly invasive knowledge that there is a female bathing right behind me. The last time I had been anywhere near a woman even partially naked— I drop my chin to my chest and force my gaze to the small beetle scurrying across the dirt in front of my boots. I will not think of that right now.

“The tower felt large at first,” she says, and the air is suddenly thick with the scent of rose. The rasp of the cloth over her skin. “It was taller than any structure I’d been in before, and the views it offered were sights I could never have imagined. For someone who left sand and deep green palm trees, the flowers of the meadow and dark blue of the lake felt tranquil. Calm. At first, I didn’t understand why Rhea paced as if she was trying to wear a hole into the floor.”

Immie shuffles in her cell, catching my attention as I shift my gaze slightly towards her. Sitting on the ground, her back against the wall, she looks in my direction curiously. I take in her deep wrinkles and mussed gray hair and wonder how long she can survive down here. Pushing the thought down, I look back to the wall in front of me.