Page 18 of Calling of the Crown

The space practically sang doom and gloom, so purgatory wasn’t too far off. I wasn’t fond of all the images flittering through my mind as we passed empty cells—prisoners chained to walls, men and women strapped into chairs to undergo some heinous torture. I didn’t know if those things really happened here or if I was letting movies get in my head. Still, being down here made my skin crawl.

Despite not liking the atmosphere, I had to keep my wits about me. I was finally going to face Dax, my ex and the man who’d tried to have me killed. He was volatile, and I never knew what to expect with him.

Except his dick of a personality.

“Here’s the dungeon headquarters where the guards work and store gear,” Dallas said as she opened one of three large doors at the end of the main hallway.

Inside, it looked like your typical break room at an office—table and chairs in the center, cabinets lining the back wall, and extra seating around the edges of the room. What was different than your average office were all the weapons lining the sides of the room.

“Your Highness!”

The shocked greeting came from a man and woman who’d been seated at the table. The two quickly shot up from their seats before kneeling and bowing their heads with hands placed over their hearts.

“Uh—” My brain stalled, because I still wasn’t used to such a greeting, and I doubted I ever would be. I didn’t like people bowing to me, but it came with the whole Princess gig. Clearing my throat in an attempt to recover from my momentary loss of words, I said, “As you were.”

Sure. Sounds like a legit response.

The two got back to their feet, and when their eyes met mine, recognition sparked. “Hey, I know you guys.” I turned to the tall, broad-shouldered man with warm green eyes and dark curls. “Marcus, right?” I noted the girl’s petite freckled face framed by her chin-length black hair. “Mingxia?”

The girl’s eyes immediately glittered in awe, and her head bobbed animatedly. “Yes! I’m so honored that you remember me, Your Highness.”

The two had been a part of my team of personal guards, and I’d briefly met them at the gathering where we’d ganged up on Dax to arrest him for treason.

“Are you here to question Dax, Princess?” Marcus asked.

“I am.”

“Have you managed to get him to talk at all?” Dallas asked.

Mingxia shook her head. “Other than him going on and on about how we’re fools and how he’s our ‘rightful King,’ no. He won’t talk.”

“Give me a break,” Dallas huffed, running an aggravated hand through her red locks. “‘Rightful King,’ my ass. He’s lucky he’s been allowed to breathe this long after what he did.”

“Can I go talk to him?” I asked Marcus and Mingxia.

“Sure,” Marcus answered, going for the door. “His cell is right this way.”

“Maybe you’ll have better luck getting him to talk than we did,” Mingxia grumbled ruefully.

I doubted it, but I kept that pessimistic thought to myself. The bottom line was Dax loathed me. Apparently, he’d been my betrothed, and he felt that gave him some sort of claim over me. Before I knew this bit of info—or anything about Fae—I’d even dated him for a time. Not that he could stay faithful long enough for it to matter. It was shortly after we broke up that Dax had tried to have me killed—something that still didn’t make much sense. That’s why I was here now. To figure out why he’d hired someone to assassinate me.

I followed Marcus, and I realized they were keeping Dax close. He was the first cell down the right-side hallway, closest to the guard’s room. The musty cell was a tight, dim space, and when I saw Dax standing against the far side with his head propped against the sandstone wall, I couldn’t help but feel pity for my former friend.

Oh how you’ve fallen, Dax.

Marcus cleared his throat, and at the sound, Dax’s muted green eyes opened. The moment his gaze locked with mine, a contemptuous sneer peeled his lips back. “Well, look who has decided to grace me with her presence. The ignorant, dim-witted, wanna-be Queen. This should be fun.”

There had been a time when hearing such nasty words from him would’ve broken me, but I’d finally gotten to a point where Dax’s words no longer held power over me.

“Do you think hurling insults at me will help your position here?” I deadpanned.

“My position?” He spat. He suddenly rushed to the bars separating us and gripped them tightly. “My position? I’m King, damn it! King!”

“My, my, Dax,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve only been here a day, yet you’re already hallucinating. Marcus, we may need to get Dax a drink here. He seems to think there’s a crown atop his head and has this room confused with the spacious Queen and King’s quarters upstairs.”

“You fucking bitch,” Dax hissed, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

“Your only position, Dax,” I said, walking closer to the bars and dropping my voice low, “is that of a traitor. And you made that choice. Not me.”

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