Page 28 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Thirteen

JANELLE’S EYES WEREclosed, but the noise in the streets outside the palace walls kept her awake. Her mind drifted once again to how to get out of there. Elijah now knew everything; well, almost everything. Not the one thing that, if it were to reach her brother, would cause her to lose her only family. The moment he learned what Kieran was doing and what he had planned, Aiden would no doubt travel for days just to cut off the head of the man who would soon steal her future.

Janelle rolled out of bed and lit a small torch protruding from the wall by the washroom, moving to the back of the room where the garden and fountain lined the walls. She placed her hand against one of the plants, running her fingers over to the purple buds dangling in the corner: Shy Bloom Daisies.

“Well,” she said, eyeing one of the most poisonous plants in Zemira, “isn’t he an idiot.”

Shy Bloom Daisies were not deadly, but they could knock out a grown man for days.

Just enough time to get Aiden and flee this country, she thought.

She smiled to herself, plucking three buds from the plant, careful not to press too hard where the juices would leak into her skin.

Over by the fountain was a watering can. Janelle scooped up some of the water gently from the fountain into the can and dropped the flower buds inside. Then, she rushed to the sink and dripped soap on her fingers, scrubbing them just in case she missed any of the flower’s residue. She took a twig from one of the dry branches on a vine, cracked it off, then stuck it into the can, crushing the purple buds until they broke open in the water, releasing the poison.

After mixing it thoroughly, she poured the liquid into a cup, using the stick to pick out all the remaining leaves and petals, leaving nothing but poison-filled water.

Now, she thought, how to get the guard outside my door to drink it?

She glanced out the window, looking to the forest on the other end of the main square, wondering where Aiden was. The gates were heavily guarded again by the Elven warriors, but she hadn’t recognized any of the men from Aiden’s battalion.

If Janelle asked her brother to flee with her, he would without question. They always protected each other. If Aiden was hidden from Kieran, Kieran would have no leverage to force her hand.

She and her brother could do this. They could escape and take care of themselves. No one else cared enough about their safety. Janelle wouldn’t become a prisoner locked behind anyone’s door again.

A knock at the door startled her.

Janelle hadn’t cleaned up the soaked buds on the counter.

Shit! she cursed in her mind.

Janelle backed up, nearly knocking the poisonous water onto the floor, trying to shield the mess she had made with her body.

Elijah entered the room, and her heart pounded so hard against her chest that it reached her throat.

Why is he not in bed? she thought.

Elijah wrinkled his brows as he stalked forward, his jaw set. His hand came out to take hold of her wrist, but she moved to the side. Then, without thinking of the consequences, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the cheek.

Her eyes went wide at what she had just done to the king. She scrambled backward until her back hit the wall.

Elijah blinked, his hand coming up to his cheek. She watched as his throat bobbed, his face shocked, and the room seemed to kaleidoscope in and out of focus. Elijah seemed to take up every inch of space in it, every breath of air until he was the only thing she could see.

Her body thrummed at the thought of his presence, but her rational fear fought its way through her bizarre, physical reaction. Every fiber of her mind screamed at her to bolt for the door.

“You’ve got quite some strength in those skinny arms of yours,” he finally said. His blue, wicked eyes glared up at hers, causing every hair on her body to stand straight.

“I thought you were going to grab me,” she said, attempting to step back even more, but she could not budge.

“I was!” He straightened his back, his lips pressed tightly together, breathing heavily through his nostrils.

A thin smile tugged on her lips. “Well then,” Janelle swallowed as she lifted her chin, “I hope that hurt.”

She didn’t care how angry he looked then. Her natural fire was coming back to her through the fear. Janelle was sick of being pushed around by him.

But then, those beautiful, haunting eyes of his fell on her and she shifted nervously. He had a way of leaving her breathless and, even worse, wordless, in a way that no one else had ever managed. Something about the deep blue of his eyes and the crease of his dimples when he looked at her with anger. It made heat build low in her belly.

Don’t let yourself fall apart for a pretty face, she chided. You’re not some vapid princess.

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