Page 69 of Desperately Yours

Note to self—if I ever designed another gown that might be used to overthrow a dangerous regime hidden inside a foreign government… less tulle.

I checked labels over the doors, frantically navigating the tunnels as I moved deeper and deeper into the palace. There had to be one that would get me to the ballroom, or at least as close to the ballroom as possible. The swinging light of the lantern gave me little warning as I broke through spiderwebs, dodged debris on the ground, and scoured the walls looking for clues to where I’d ended up.

What if I was too late? What if Fitz married Sadie? What was annulment like in Nolcovia? Did they believe in divorce? Or was he destined to spend his life with a woman who wanted to destroy him?

I wanted to shriek out my frustration, but I feared the sound would carry and my position would be discovered. The last thing I needed was to pop out of the wall into the control of dozens of guards bent on erasing me entirely. I took the next corner too fast and slammed against a wall as my footing slipped on rocks I couldn’t see beneath the fabric of my gown. The impact jarred my system and the tunnel tipped and swayed as I tried to gain my bearings again. Shaking my head, I looked up and squinted in the low light. My breath caught, surprised that I had found the exact doorway I’d been seeking.

I set the lantern to the side and dug into my pocket to remove the vial of orange liquid. I stared at my stolen elixir and wondered if Sadie would survive my plan. More importantly, did I care? She’d stolen everything from me and left me for dead. Did I owe her anything?

Those thoughts were for the future, after I accomplished my plan. The kind of thing I could ruminate on once I was safe in Fitz’s arms again. Maybe I would regret it, but in the moment, she deserved to answer for the crimes she committed.

The low lighting illuminated the exit well enough that I found the latch that would release the doorway. In my chamber, the doorway was hidden by a bookcase. In Fitz’s chambers, a painting hid the doorway. In reality, I had no idea what would happen or what would move on the other side to allow me an exit from the tunnel. For all I knew, I could be walking into the waiting hatred of dozens of guards ready to end me permanently.

Unwilling to put it off any longer, I stuffed the vial back in my pocket and gripped the lever attached to the door. Themechanism groaned as though it hadn’t been shifted in at least a hundred years. I leaned into the lever with my weight, crying out as it took more strength than I had left. Was this it? To come so far just to be stuck behind a jammed door?

No, I couldn’t leave Fitz to the awful fate that had found him. Gritting my teeth, I pushed with everything I had left. Like a cork from a bottle, the lever snapped and dropped into place. Clicking and tumbling resonated within the door, a cacophony of gears and levers come to life after decades of slumber. I stepped back, unsure of what would happen next. The door shifted forward, let loose a hollow thump that would surely alert everyone to my presence, and then rolled to the left at glacial speed. With only two feet of clearance, the door stopped and everything went still.

I held my breath, waiting on the attack.

Sconces on the wall burned brightly, but the darkness outside the doorway gave me no other indication of what waited for me beyond the safety of the tunnels. I gathered my skirts and pressed through the opening. I was no sooner on the other side than the door began to close behind me. Spinning, I made sure all the fabric of my dress was clear so that I wouldn’t be locked partially inside the wall.

I exhaled once I knew I was free.

I’d done it.

I’d made it.

“It’s now or never,” I whispered to myself. Fitz needed me.

But as I turned back, a figure loomed in the doorway, large, imposing, and stiff at the sight of me. As if he never thought I could have survived the gauntlet he’d put me through.

Kabir’s eyes narrowed to slits, only deepening the dread that had taken hold of my gut. “Lady Michaela, there are a great deal of people looking for you. Strange, we thought you were dead.”

Fitz

This couldn’t be happening.

This had to be a nightmare.

“We’ve gathered together as friends and family of the Royal Crown.” I didn’t know the preacher’s name. Or maybe I couldn’t recall it. He wasn’t the one I’d known in the past, too young. Still, his voice didn’t waver or hesitate as he spoke over the crowd seated beyond the thrones and the elevated area surrounding them where I stood with Sadie. “Such a joyous occasion. One for celebration and revelry, and yet, our hearts are darkened by the illness of our king.”

Conciliatory sounds washed through the crowd, like a wave of condolences. It did nothing to calm me or quell the storm within. My father should be at my wedding, and yet he was sequestered and dying alone, and for what? Tradition?

“Long live the king!” A cry went up at the back of the room, likely a guard. My chin tucked down to my chest to hide away the onslaught of emotions. Echoing cries reverberated through the air, yet each one lessened in resolve. More of a goodbye than a rallying battle cry. It wasn’t hard to imagine what they were thinking. What a fabulous day for a wedding, too bad thehoneymoon will be a rather somber affair with the pallor of death cast over it.

The honeymoon. I shuddered at the thought. Touching Sadie would always feel like a betrayal. Like I was cheating on the one who had owned my heart since we were children. How could I think I could go through with this? Even in the name of duty?

My skin felt too tight for my body. Maybe I could claw it off and shed it. Like a reptile. Because if I was marrying anyone other than Michaela, that’s what I was.

A snake.

“Prince Leonidas,” the priest’s tender fingers urged my arm forward, “take your bride by her hands.”

I felt sick. I didn’t want to touch her. I wanted to get this over with.

Say we’re married and finish it. I want nothing to do with her.

I might have felt guilt, but my bride looked twice as uncomfortable as I did. Her gaze shifted to the left then to the right, jaw clenching and unclenching. She didn’t want this either.

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