Page 109 of Kingdom of Today
I gasped at the speed and violence of everything, horrified all over again.
“What would you like me to do with the girl, Majesty?” Vyle asked, undisturbed.
Cyrus didn’t miss a beat. “Lock her in the dungeon for now.” He shot out his arm, capturing the other man by the chin to ensure he listened well. “Have her tended, and make sure there’s not another scratch on her, or I’ll be ... perturbed.”
Vyle paled, as if there were no greater threat, and inclined his head. “I’ll see to her recovery personally.”
Cyrus flicked his tongue over his teeth, holding my stare as I panted through my pain. “I suggest you behave, sweetness. My patience with you grows thin.” As he spoke, he lifted a finger and mimed a spin, which turned out to be a command Vyle heeded.
The executioner picked me up and forced me to stand.
Cyrus slid the rings from my fingers, adding, “You won’t like what happens if you attempt another escape.”
“I don’t likeyou,” I spat at him, my knees nearly buckling. But fall? No. “That’s the problem.”
“You don’t know me.” Eyes narrowed, he erased the gap between us, butting up against me. “But you will.”
Though I hurt, I didn’t let myself back down. Here I was, peering at a face I cherished, breathing in a scent I treasured—although, yes, I noted a slight difference now. A tad sharper. But I digressed. In any other situation, I would’ve been confident of Cyrus’s desire to protect me. Today, I couldn’t trust him, and it sucked, especially because I knew what was coming. The battle. My sword slicking through his flesh.
“So beautiful.” He grazed his knuckles along one side of my cheek. A corner of his mouth twitched, a reaction Cyrus often had with me aswell. He was in there, aware. He must be. “You value the truth, so here is an unvarnished fact, nothing hidden. You will host Briar Rose or die. As always, the choice will be yours.”
He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Vyle gave me a shove in the opposite direction, forcing me to walk over slain soldiers. Blood wet the soles of my boots, a squeak sounding with every ensuing step. I even left little crimson prints in my wake.
When I didn’t move quick enough for his liking, he gripped my bicep. It hurt, but to be fair, everything did.
“Don’t think I won’t tattle about your treatment of me,” I muttered.
“Don’t think he’ll always care,” he replied, smug. “You’ll refuse him, and he’ll kill you. I’ll be his favorite again.”
So much for Briar Rose’s vision of a happily ever after—the dragon as enamored of me as Cyrus.
We descended a staircase and passed through a shimmery veil. Between one step and the next, we exited a narrow hallway and entered the dungeon with bloodstained walls and barred cells lining both sides. Most were filled with moaning, groaning maddened. Some contained glowers. All were trapped in various stages of starvation and torment.
“I think you’ll be pleased with your cellmate,” Vyle said, leading me toward a cage smaller than the others and occupied by only one glower.
Another shock. Victors, here. He sat in the far corner, one leg bent at the knee, with an elbow resting at the crest. His bored expression never wavered. He wore torn, dirty clothing, his hair sticking out in spikes. The injuries he’d sustained in captivity hadn’t fully healed, his skin bordering on sallow.
“So good to see you again, Lady Roosa.” His voice lacked substance, but his joy was true. “You’re right on time.”
Vyle unlocked the door and hauled me inside. He pushed me at the cot pressed against a wall. My knees gave out, and I plopped onto the stretched cloth, doing my best to appear bored as well.
A guard rushed in with a medical kit. Vyle claimed it, then tossed it on the cot beside me. “Don’t die,” he commanded before stalking outand confining me inside. “Ask your friend what he’s endured. Soon, you’ll experience the same firsthand.”
He stalked off, and I deflated, air leaking from a part in my lips. “I’m both thrilled and sad to see you again, Victors. Wish it had been under better circumstances.”
“But, my girl,” he said, as brazen as I remembered him. “The real fun is just getting started.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Your war isn’t with flesh and blood but with the spirits within them.
—The Book of Soal2.8.10.3
“Real fun,” I echoed hollowly. “We’re prisoners, Victors.”
He frowned, as if disappointed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Roosa. We’re nothing of the sort.”
