Page 120 of A Dagger in the Ivy

The servants bring in the dinner, but I can only stare at my plate. My stomach churns, and every glance from Torbin is like a sharp prick to my senses. I push the food around with my fork, hoping no one notices.

Every passing moment feels like an eternity as I wait for any sign, any indication that Torbin or the king are on to me, that they know what I’ve been up to and are about to haul me away to the dungeon. The tension is palpable, and I just want this evening to end so I can retreat to the safety of my chambers.

Halfway through the meal, the heavy, oak doors swing open, making me jump. I turn to see Farvis stride into the room with purpose. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of him, dread pooling in thepit of my stomach. He approaches the king’s seat with a solemn expression, and I can barely breathe as I wait for him to speak.

“Your Majesty,” Farvis begins, his voice echoing through the hall, “my apologies to you and your guests for interrupting your meal, but I’ve just been informed of an incident and thought it best to let you know.”

“What is it, Farvis?” The king spares him a glance before gulping down his wine.

“A horse has returned to the stable. It was unmanned, but there were traces of blood on the saddle.”

A gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I clasp a hand over my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest. Panic grips me as I realize the implications of Farvis’s words. Jasper… He never made it to Delasurvia, and if the blood is any indication of what transpired, he’s most likely dead. My heart cinches, but I fight to keep defeat out of my face.

Torbin’s eyes flicker to mine, and for a brief moment, I see a flash of something in his gaze—triumph, perhaps, or fucking amusement. But just as quickly, he raises his wineglass to his lips, masking his expression behind a façade of indifference.

I swallow hard, fighting to maintain my composure, but inside, I am consumed by a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. The walls of the dining hall seem to close in around me, suffocating me with their oppressive weight. And the realization sinks in that I may have just gotten Jasper killed and my message may have fallen into the wrong hands.

“Who would be taking a horse out at this time of night?” the queen asks.

The king doesn’t look up from his plate, chewing around his words. “Whoever it was and whatever their reason, they weren’t successful in their efforts.”

“Ah, shame about the rider, whoever that might have been,” Torbin says, feigning concern. “But at least the gods saw fit to make sure we didn’t lose the horse.”

The nobles murmur their agreements, sharing their thoughts with each other. But I can’t take it. An innocent man is most likely deadbecause of me. I can’t sit here any longer and bear witness to the mindless chatter.

I steady myself, forcing my voice to remain calm as I address the table. “Your Majesties, I’m terribly sorry, but I must ask if I may be excused.” I strain to keep my tone polite and composed despite the tornado of agitation destroying my insides. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well and would like to lie down for a while.”

The king’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering across his face. “Nonsense, Celeste. You’re being rude to our guests. Besides, a little food should make you feel better. I’m sure you can stomach it.”

Before I can respond, the queen interjects, her voice soft but authoritative. “Now, now, we can’t expect her to enjoy the meal or our company if she’s ill. Besides, I’m sure the ladies at the table can understand the sensitive composition of a woman’s body. Let her rest, my king. She’ll be much better for it. After all, we want her to be at the top of her health for the engagement celebration.”

The king hesitates, his jaw tightening as he considers her words, but finally, after hearing the agreement of the women at the table, he gives a reluctant nod.

“Thank you, Your Majesties. And once again, my apologies.”

Just as I rise to leave, Torbin stands as well, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“I’ll escort her,” he says, his eyes locking on to mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

I fake a smile and curtsey to the king and queen. Torbin has a tight hold of my elbow as we leave the room, but it isn’t until we step into the hall and out of sight that I jerk my arm away from him.

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my own room.” I don’t even hide my contempt in front of Sir Holden, who stands near the door, waiting to accompany me.

Torbin’s eyes darken. “I’m aware. But I also know that you’re capable of fleeing.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” I begin walking, not caring to look at him any longer.

He is fast to catch up with me, matching my strides as Sir Holden follows.

“Don’t take me for a fool, Celeste. Where were you last night?”

It takes every effort to remain calm. “I was here. In my room.”

He grabs my arm as we reach my room and pulls me to a stop. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

My hand hovers over my sheathed dagger. “I will not be a prisoner here. If I’m so important to your future plans”—I narrow my eyes at him, intentionally disguising my words in front of my Royal Ward—“then you best mind the way you treat me.”

Torbin’s jaw is set, but his eyes dart between me and Sir Holden.

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