Page 122 of A Dagger in the Ivy

A half an hour later, Nadya and I climb the stairs to the nightfeather tower. She’s wearing a thin dress that reveals ample cleavage, while I opted for a blouse and trousers to allow me to move about more freely. I clutch a rolled parchment in my hand, and my dagger is strapped to my thigh. Halfway up the tower stairs, I can’t help but feel a flicker of hope that our plan might actually work. My heart hammers in my chest, and each step I take feels heavier than the last as the anticipation gnaws at me. The towering structure looms overhead, casting a shadow that seems to stretch on endlessly.

As we reach the entrance to the Aerie chamber at the top of the tower, Nadya signals for me to stay out of view. I need to wait until she lures the tower maester away so he can’t see me enter the Aerie.

The interior of the tower is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the flickering torches that line the walls. The air is thick with themusty scent of old parchment and worn hay and the faint rustle of feathers.

I peek around the archway, and in the far corner, I spot him: a wiry figure hunched over a cage, his attention consumed by the task at hand.

Nadya squeezes my hand in silent encouragement before she saunters over to the tower maester, her movements fluid and graceful. When she clears her throat to get his attention, he startles for a second, but she flips her curls over her shoulder and runs her fingertips over her décolletage, and his surprise turns to hungry curiosity. I wait as she engages him in conversation, her voice light and flirtatious as she distracts him with ease.

She puts a hand on his arm and points off into the distance, urging him closer to the parapet. He follows her lead with no objection. Taking advantage of the distraction, I make my way past a round table littered with parchment that stands in front of the cages that line the wall.

The nightfeather is even more imposing up close. Its sleek, ebony feathers shimmer in the dim light of the aerie, the sharp contrast of its iridescent blue breast catching my eye as it puffs up. It’s larger than any raven I’ve seen, nearly the size of a small eagle, with talons that curve like razor-sharp scythes, gleaming menacingly as it shifts on its perch. Its eyes are a piercing, intelligent black, watching me with a keen awareness that makes my breath catch, a prickling sense of unease spreading through me. I steady myself before reaching for the cage door, the rolled parchment ready in my hand.

My hands tremble as I reach in and gently pick up the bird. I can feel its solid talons resting on my skin, but the bird does not wound me. My fingers fumble with the parchment, but I manage to secure it to the bird’s leg with a sense of urgency.

A shadow moves behind me, and a sudden chill grips my heart. I sense a presence and whirl around to find Torbin standing there, his gaze fixed upon me with a disapproving glint in his eyes.

Fuck!

My gasp gets stuck in my throat as Torbin reaches out and snatches the nightfeather from my hand and brings it to his chest. “Why, Celeste,I thought you were in your room.”

The bird struggles against his grasp, its wings fluttering frantically in a futile attempt to escape.

For a moment, the world seems to freeze around us, the air thick with tension as Torbin’s gaze slices through me like a dagger. I can feel the weight of his disapproval bearing down upon me, suffocating me with its intensity.

I open my mouth to speak, to protest against his intrusion, but the words die in my throat as I meet his steely gaze. There is a darkness in his eyes that chills me to the bone.

A sense of dread washes over me, knowing that my plans have been thwarted before they even had a chance to take flight.

Torbin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Will you ever fucking learn?”

Before I can respond, he shifts his hold on the bird, and a sickening crack echoes through the room. I can only stare in horror as blood seeps from between his fingers, the neck of the nightfeather twisted at a nauseating angle, and the bird’s head hanging limply.

“No!” I cover my mouth with my hands, my eyes welling with tears. The caged birds begin to squawk, the cacophony growing louder with each second.

The noise gets the attention of the tower maester and Nadya, who come close enough to observe but keep a safe distance from Torbin.

My breaths come out in huffs, fury boiling in my veins. Without a second thought, I draw my dagger, the cold steel steady in my grip. “Stay back,” I warn, my voice low and trembling with rage.

Torbin drops the bird and smirks, an infuriating confidence dancing in his eyes. He takes a step forward, and I lash out, the blade slicing across his arm. For a brief, satisfying moment, blood wells from the wound, staining his shirt sleeve. He pauses, pulling back the sleeve to inspect the cut, but the bleeding stops. Torbin wipes at his arm as if brushing away dirt, and the gash miraculously knits itself together, leaving nothing but unmarked skin.

My heart races as I try to strike again, but he’s faster. His hand snapsout, wrenching the dagger from my grip with brutal strength. Before I can react, he whips the blade around and slams it down, driving the blade through the back of my hand and pinning it to the table. Pain explodes in my hand, sharp and searing, and I gasp, fighting back the scream that claws its way up my throat.

Nadya gasps, but I send her a warning look to stay back.

A cruel sneer twists Torbin’s features as he watches me struggle. My hand trembles, every movement filled with agony.

The room is unbearably loud, our struggles having escalated the birds’ unrest. They are out of control, unable to stay still in their cages.

“You will stop trying to defy me, or there will be suffering.” He leans over me, pushing my hair behind my ear. “You have no choice but to marry me, Celeste, and then I will bring you to Dulcamar, where you will remain by my side, either to rule with me or to serve me. The choice is yours.” He straightens, his shoulders square. “Now if there’s nothing more to say, I have an engagement celebration to prepare for.”

I can’t fucking move. The dagger is buried deep in my flesh. I bite down on my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my pain. But the agony is overwhelming, the blood pooling beneath my hand as I glare at him, fury and defiance burning in my chest.

His focus moves to Nadya and the tower maester, and my heart practically stops.

No. Please.

He approaches them, and I struggle to pull the dagger from my hand.

---