Page 1 of Decoy

CHAPTER1

BLAIR

It was strange what one noticed when there remained only moments to live. I focused on the measurement of every shaky breath, each growing more shallow as the fear I’d fought to suppress coiled its tendrils around my heart. As much as I relished each numbered breath, they were almost painful.

I struggled to retain a sliver of calm by focusing my thoughts onanythingbut what lay ahead. I became hyperaware of every sensation—the stale coldness of my prison, the scratchy feel of the straw where I sat curled on the floor, the raw pain of my wrists from where my chains had worn away the skin, and the heavy exhaustion pressing against my senses from a night devoid of sleep, for I’d refused to let unconsciousness rob me of my final hours.

Once more my thoughts drifted to the events that had led me to this point. I’d beenso close…and now everything was lost. But my regret stemmed far deeper than for my impending lost life, for my failure had long-lasting consequences beyond my execution. At the reminder of my sentence my terror rose, tightening its hold over me with its icy fingers.

I touched my throat, wondering what the rough noose would feel like coiling around my neck, similar to the rope that had draped my dear brother’s neck when he’d been taken from me…before giving my head a rigid shake.

I didn’t want my last moments to be spent in fear. I leaned against the wall of my cell to stare out the small barred window high above, where the sky was just beginning to lighten. I tried not to remember that with the dawn came the dusk of my life and instead focused on the soft golden light gradually casting away the shadows filling my dank prison. For the briefest moment, I felt almost…peace.

Yet the emotion was fleeting. I stiffened at the sound of the dungeon door opening and the heavy footsteps that followed, weaving through the cells until they paused outside mine. I tensed as I awaited the dreaded pronouncement.

“Prisoner…it’s time.”

Time to die. I’d tried to resolve myself, but panic blinded me and my escalating terror paralyzed my limbs, ruining my previous resolution to act with dignity until the very end.

When I remained curled up against the cell wall, whoever had been sent to retrieve me released a frustrated breath, a sigh that was immediately followed by the jingling of keys and the barred door creaking open. The next moment, a sharp grip dug into my arm to yank me to my feet and turn me to face the rough, bearded man I recognized as the captain of the guard—the very one who’d had the honor of informing me of my upcoming execution.

“I said,it’s time.”

In a vain attempt at bravery, I lifted my chin and managed a nod. I numbly followed as he led me from the cell into the labyrinth of stone corridors lit by torches that cast ominous shadows as we wove past the other condemned prisoners and up the steps into the prison courtyard.

The chains binding my wrists rattled with every step, but no sound was more deafening than the wild pounding of my heart. My eyes darted about, searching for a way to escape my doom that lay moments away, but the guards surrounding me like an impenetrable wall robbed me of that vain hope.

The relief of leaving the dungeon’s all-consuming darkness was immediate. I blinked in the dazzling light and soaked in the warmth of the rising sun against my face along with a pleasant breeze, a fresh relief from the pungent stench of the dungeon…but the tranquil moment vanished the moment my eyes adjusted, bringing the awaiting gallows into view.

The sensation that consumed my thoughts was beyond fear; there were no words to describe the terror eclipsing my mind along with a single phrase that sent sharp, icy horror to my limbs:I’m about to die.

My steps faltered and my legs went limp, unable to willingly advance any closer to my doom. The captain yanked me upright and gave me a hard shove, forcing me towards the steps that led up to the noose. Panic pounded with every frantic beat of my heart. Already I could feel the scratchy rope around my neck, the smothering sensation as my life slipped away…

No, don’t think about that. For the moment, you’re alive. Savor it.

We’d nearly crossed the courtyard, whose beauty was lost due to my suffocating terror but which was thankfully abandoned save for the patrolling guards. At least I’d be granted the mercy of an execution away from the jeers of the onlookers lacking any sympathy for my cruel fate.

Remember you deserve this. Every choice had a consequence, and my own had laid the path to this moment stone by stone.

We paused at the base of the steps and I stared up at the noose swinging gently in the breeze, unable to look away from the death that awaited me…when the captain took a sudden turn away from the gallows. Puzzled, I followed, risking a single peek into his expression. He looked almost…smug, as if he took great delight in frightening me.

For a moment, confusion reigned stronger than the fear that had previously eclipsed my every sense, a puzzlement that deepened as we entered an unfamiliar section of the palace. The commander led me down several abandoned corridors before stopping outside a door and knocking; the sound echoed through the heavy stillness.

After a pause, an unfamiliar voice bid us to enter. The footman standing at attention opened the door to reveal an immaculate study where an elderly man sat writing behind a desk.

The captain pushed me forward. “I’ve brought the prisoner, my lord.”

He didn’t look up at our entrance, merely waved us lazily inside. “Thank you, Captain.” He kept his gaze riveted to his document, so he missed the captain’s bow before he backed from the room, leaving me alone with the stranger.

I slowly took in the surrounding opulence, far different than thenothingnessI’d expected to be experiencing minutes after what was to be my execution. Perhaps bringing me here was nothing more than a ploy to increase the anticipation for the dreaded event, a scenario that seemed far more likely each minute that trickled by as the man continued to ignore me, heightening my uncertainty.

He finally set his quill in the inkwell and looked up. He rested the tips of his clasped fingers on his lips as he studied me with a thoughtful air before giving an approving nod.

“The report did not exaggerate. Despite your sojourn in the dungeon, I can see your potential. You will do nicely.”

I wanted to ask what he meant, but the fear still clogging my throat made it impossible to speak.

The man slowly rose, granting me full view of his appearance—he possessed the elegance and bearing of a noble, though his attire was more simple than the usual extravagance of the court; whatever his position, he wasn’t a member of the royal family I abhorred.

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