Page 89 of A Dagger in the Ivy

The storm grey of his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, but I can’t help but admire his unwavering resolve. “Thank you.”

CHapter

Thirty-One

After separating from my squad, Dante and I head back to Hedera. We approach the castle gates in the early evening. The weight of exhaustion settles upon my shoulders, dragging at my limbs and clouding my thoughts. The journey back from our tour has been long and arduous, filled with setbacks that have left me feeling drained and defeated. Yet, despite the weariness that threatens to consume me, there’s a sense of relief that washes over me as the familiar sight of Ivystone Citadel rises before us.

As we dismount from our horses, I take a moment to survey the courtyard, noting the hustle of activity. Everywhere I look, I see drawn-down faces. My curiosity is piqued when I notice some servants whispering to each other. Guards exchange glances I can’t quite read. We are met at the stables by Jasper and the other stablehands, who take our reins in silence, leaving me to wonder even more.

I remove my gloves and stride toward the castle. Dante lags behind me, and I can’t help but think our amicable time together has come to an end. Now that we’ve returned, and there’s no longer a need for us to work together, he’s probably already gone back to despising me.

But there are more pressing matters at hand. My senses tell me that something has happened at Ivystone since we’ve been gone. Curiosity and apprehension drive me to seek out a friendly face who can feed me the information I need.

When I enter the great hall, Nadya hurries toward me, her raven-black hair tumbling in tight curls around her shoulders. Though I’m relieved to see her, worry is etched on her face, and my heart clenches at the sight of her concern.

“Celeste!” she exclaims, reaching me with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you’re back. We were starting to worry.”

I accept her embrace, taking comfort in the familiarity of her presence. “I’m sorry we’re late,” I murmur, pulling back to meet her gaze. I don’t want to mention the detour to the refugee camp out here in the open. “I know Torbin must be worried.”

Nadya’s expression darkens at the mention of the prince’s name, and she shakes her head slightly. “That’s just it. He hasn’t returned.”

It takes me a moment to wrap my mind around her words. “What?”

“He hasn’t been back from his hunting trip. Only one of his friends has shown up. Sam. He said they were separated because of the flood.”

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach at her words, a sense of unease settling over me like a shroud. Surely, Torbin and his friends are skilled enough to maneuver the terrain of Hedera without incident. But what if I’m wrong? What if something happened to him?

I check around me, and I can tell by the expressions and body language of the others in the court that they’re all thinking the same thing.

“What has the king said?” I ask, grabbing her hand.

“He’s sent out his best men to search.”

I glance back at the entrance to the castle, where I spot Dante speaking with one of the courtiers. His brows plunge down as a shadow falls over his features. I can tell by his expression and the stiffening of his body that he’s just heard about Torbin. Dante turns away from the courtier, hardening his jaw as he walks in my direction.

I think he’s going to speak to me, but he charges past me in thedirection of the throne room.

“Where is my father?” The thunder of his voice shakes my bones.

I exchange a quick look with Nadya before I take off after him, each step echoing the urgency that pulses through my veins. My betrothed is missing, and I’d like to know exactly what the king is doing to find him.

Master Zimmerman suddenly appears, hurrying across the room to fall in step beside Dante. “He’s in the council chambers, my Lord.”

Dante gives him a curt nod, not missing a beat, and cuts through the throne room toward the chambers I haven’t been allowed to enter.

But they’ll let me in today. I don’t care what anyone says.

I’m directly on Dante’s trail as he pushes open the council chamber doors. Nadya tries to follow, but the guards urge her back.

“Your Highness—” One of the guards attempts to stop me.

I shoot him a warning look. “Touch me and lose a hand.”

He’s too taken aback by my comment to stop me from fully entering the room.

The council chambers are bright, almost too bright, with sunlightflooding through tall windows that line the walls, casting harsh reflections off the polished, marble table in the center. The king sits at the head, his advisors flanking either side, their faces grim beneath the stark light. The room feels vast yet suffocating, with every movement amplified by the tension in the air. The carved chairs, elegant and imposing, are arranged in perfect symmetry around the table, each one ready to hold the weight of decisions that could alter the fate of the kingdom. One entire wall is made up of shelves filled with books and scrolls.

“Father,” Dante begins. His words are controlled, but the tight muscles in his neck tell a different story. “Is it true?”

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