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Ispent the next days in a haze of drunkenness. I don’t know how much wine I drank, but it was enough to leave me in a mess on the floor, drowning out the sharp pain in my chest every time Theron came anywhere near Elara. The skin on my hands was permanently pink and shiny now, my body struggling to keep up healing from the endless hours I spent pounding my fists into the stone walls.
I could feel her slipping away from me, her soul cracking and shattering, shard after shard falling into a black abyss where I could not reach her.
On the fourth day, the door opened, and Regan stepped in. His nose wrinkled as he looked at me lying on the floor, and even through my bleary-eyed vision I could see the concern on his face.
“Rook, you need to get up and wash,” he ordered, his eyes moving to the empty goblet beside me. “Come on, you need to sober up now.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice thick. “What could I possibly need to be sober for?”
“This won’t help her.”
I struggled into a sitting position, draping my arms over my knees. “And being sober will help her, will it?” I shook my head, laughing as the room spun and the floor under me tilted. “I can do nothing but lie here and feel your fucking king violate her, and you want me sober for that?”
“You have to think of her.”
I got to my feet as fast as I could, wavering slightly as I towered over Regan’s slight frame. “Think of her?” I spat at his feet. “Fuckingthinkof her? What do you think I do here all day? What do you think I fuckingdoin here, old man? Iachefor her. Idiewith her, every single fucking day. Her pain is my pain, and it is all I can do but to think of her.” I shoved him in the shoulder, half-heartedly as my blurred vision made my aim weak. “You don’t understand anything.” I stumbled to the basin and plunged my face into the cold water, scrubbing at my numb face with raw fingertips.
“Rook, she will need you, very soon.” Regan had stepped closer, his voice low.
I turned to look at him, steadying myself against the wooden counter. “Stop telling me soon.” I gritted my teeth, putting a hand to my chest as I felt another drop of her heart wither, another thread between us twisting painfully. “Soon is not an answer. Tell me fuckingwhen.”
“Tomorrow.” Regan’s voice dropped to a whisper.
My stomach dropped, my fingertips clawing painfully into the wood behind me. “Don’t toy with me, old man. If you’re lying to me-”
“Lord Caedmon has come to offer the king a gift,” he interjected, his eyes darting to the door. “Theron will be distracted. When I give the signal, do not hesitate. You take the princess, and you run.”
His words had me sober in seconds. “How will we escape? How can I outrun the guards with her?”
Regan shook his head. “No details. You will know.” He stepped forward and pulled down the frothy collar of his long black robes. There, on the right side of his skinny neck, was a tattoo. The mark of the sun, no bigger than the tip of my thumb. “Do not trust anyone but the Guild.”
“The Guild?” I shook my head.
Regan adjusted his robes, pulling his collar back up. He straightened his back, that indifferent look back on his face. “Until tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
* * *
By the time I was summoned the next day, my nerves were frayed. I had not slept that night, looking out at the palace grounds, formulating one escape route after another in my head. Wondering which gate to run to, how many guards there would be. How to get my weapon. How to get Elara her sword. But every single plan ended in failure, and capture.
Fucking Regan. His cryptic messages gave me no comfort nor guidance. There were obviously more players in this game - this mysterious Guild he had mentioned - but anyone could have a sun tattooed on themselves and claim to be an ally. Anyone could be an enemy.
My eyes moved along the line of guards as I was escorted to the throne room, wishing I could see through their armor, see if any of them bore this mark. I tried to analyze each gaze as I passed it - were his eyes softer? Was he blinking, trying to tell me something? I was going to go mad with this.
By the time we reached the throne room I was almost trembling with anticipation. I had to take several deep breaths before I was admitted. I would give us away otherwise, I would destroy any chance of escape if Theron saw how skittish I was.
I was getting her out of here today. I was going to save her. That was what I had to focus on.
The doors were opened, and I walked in slowly, to the scornful glances of the courtiers. They parted to let me pass, soft whispers and tuts following my steps.
Theron regarded me with amusement, but I barely took any notice. I was too consumed by the sight beside him.
My beloved.
My Bonded.
Her face was ashen, her blue eyes glassy as they gazed at me. The shadows underneath them were deep, as though bruised into her beautiful face. Her lips trembled, her shoulders sagging.
He was killing her. He was killing her spirit, driving her further and further into that place I could not reach.
