Page 30 of A Dagger in the Ivy

But I guess he falls into a different category than most people.

Prince.

Future husband.

And it helps that he’s pleasant to look at.

He trails two fingertips from my wrist, over my inner elbow, to my upper arm, where the edge of my gown sleeve ends. The feather-light touch makes me shiver. Our eyes are locked, and he inches closer.

A sound comes from behind him, like someone kicking a rock that bounces along the path. My attention is drawn to an archway near the doors, where a figure lurks in the shadows. Torbin’s expression tightens.

“Forgive me, Celeste,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with regret. “Duty calls, but I promise to return to your side before long.” His gaze lingers on mine as he leans in to press a fleeting kiss to the back of my hand.

Duty?Who is that?

With that, he slips away into the shadows, leaving me standing alone in the courtyard, a faint sense of unease stirring within me. I strain to catch a better glimpse of the mysterious figure, whose features remain obscured in the dim light. Indiscernible whispers are exchanged between them, but they move deeper into the shadows, and I lose them altogether.

I huff a breath of frustration, leaning my head back against the wall. As I scan the courtyard, I catch sight of a waft of smoke emanating from under the nearby magnolia tree.

Steely eyes are locked on to me, and I slowly make out the figure of Dante lounging on the bale of hay, his back pressed against the trunk of the tree while he smokes. His stare has an intensity that sends goosebumps up my spine. His demeanor is as inscrutable as ever, his expression unreadable behind the mask of indifference he wears like armor. The end of his cigarillo glows crimson as he inhales, reminding me of a demon’s eye shining in the dark. He blows out a trail of smoke, his glare never leaving me.

Part of me wants to march over to him and demand answers. I don’t understand why he carries such a hatred for me when I’ve never met him before in my life. I can only assume it has something to do with me marrying Torbin. Maybe he can’t stand the idea of anyone coming between him and his brother. If that’s all there is, he’s just going to have to adapt, because whether he—or anyone else—likes it or not, I’m marrying the prince.

Uneasy under his glare, I turn away. I have other things to concern myself with. For instance, finding out where Torbin disappeared to. He said he’d be back in a moment, but I have strange feeling in my gut. Who was that person he disappeared with to talk to? And why did it all seem so secretive?

As the muffled strains of music tear at my ears, curiosity gets the better of me. Ignoring the protests of my better judgment, I follow in Torbin’s footsteps, determined to uncover whatever secrets he might be hiding. I’ve been trained to protect myself, and I will not fall victim to a trap, if that’s what awaits me at Ivystone.

I find a door in the depth of the shadows. Torbin and the mystery person are nowhere in sight, so I have to assume they entered through here. I take my chances and open the thick, wooden door. The place looks unfamiliar, but then again, I still have no concept of the castle’s layout. The sconces on the walls make shadows dance around me. As I make my way through the corridors, a distant sound catches my ear—a soft, plaintive sob emanating from somewhere nearby.

My ears perk up, and I follow the sound. I can barely make out the sound of a man’s harsh voice. The sharp clamor of shattering glass causes me to halt. Instinct drives me to pull up my skirts and unsheathe my dagger. A girl or woman cries out, resolving into sobs.

With a sinking heart, I hasten toward the source of the sound, my dagger palmed and ready.

As I approach the door from where the sound is coming, my heartbeat quickens. My muscles are tight, my senses on high alert. With a tentative hand, I reach out to grasp the doorknob, my fingers flexing as I prepare to throw open the door.

Before I can even turn the handle, a sudden sensation seizes my arm with a firm grip, causing me to startle. But my soldier reflexes take over, and I whirl around, pressing the dagger to the throat of whoever has dared to grab me.

CHapter

Thirteen

My pulse races, a surge of adrenaline flooding my veins as my blade pushes against the larynx of the shadowed man.

“So, youarea pirate.” The look in Dante’s eyes is far from welcoming.

His words catch me off guard. “What?”

“You’re Delasurvian. Do you not know the history of your land?”

I’ve still got him cornered with my dagger, but I don’t bother to back away. He’s lucky I’m controlled with my weapon. “What of it?”

“You know, you’ll be hauled away if the guards find you threatening the king’s son.” He says it so casually that I have to blink.

“You were the one who grabbed at me. I’d like to think the prince wouldn’t take kindly to anyone attacking his betrothed.”

“And yet here we are, with your blade a mere inch from ending my life.”

I raise a brow. “If you didn’t expect this outcome, then you underestimated me.”

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