Page 20 of Judgment Day

That was all irrelevant, too.

Nothing mattered when the very air around you seemed suffocating, when your chest ached so badly your ribs hurt, when the very act of breathing made you feel as though you’d been flayed open.

Sadie had a son.

How did I not know?

I knew things. It was my fucking job to know things.

I leaned my head against the seat and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes.

Winston never mentioned him, so he wasn’t an heir.He was a secret.He could have belonged to anyone. She was at one of their houses, probably raped, tortured, and abused by God only knew how many men.

It was no secret that Winston had left Liam and Anniston’s mother starved for attention for years before she died. I’d hoped he’d done the same with Sadie. I’d watched for bruises on her neck, arms or face, for marks that were never there. I’d studied her for signs of fear but never saw any. I even had one of my own men hired on as a palace guard to watch over her and make sure she was safe. In the five years since I’d regained my power on the Tribunal, I’d never heard of anyone laying a hand on her. I’d have hunted them down and cut off every one of their fucking fingers if they had.

Apparently, appearances were pretty fucking deceiving. I knew Winston was sick, but I never imaginedthis.

I remembered the day in her bedroom not long ago. There were no marks on her skin then. She was as flawless as ever.

My attendant cleared her throat, and I dropped my hands from my eyes.

“Can I get you anything, sir? Something for a headache, perhaps?”

My head. My heart. It was all a fucked-up mess that no number of pills could fix. There was only one cure.

“Tell the pilot there’s been a change of plans. We’re going to Ayelswick.”

* * *

Twelve hours passed torturously slow. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. All I did the entire flight was think about her, about what she’d been through, about the boy.

How old was he?

Did he have her smile?

What did she name him?

It was 2:00 a.m. when my plane landed in Ayelswick, so I took a room at a local bed & breakfast—the same one I always stayed at—then stared at the ceiling for four more hours.

“Good morning, Mr. Van Doren,” the lady I’d come to know as Imogen asked when I walked into the breakfast room.

“Morning.” I held a hand up when she moved to grab a mug from one of the empty tables. “I’ll take it to go.”

She filled a Styrofoam cup with hot tea, gave me a kind smile, and saw me out the door.

When I finally got to the palace, I found Sadie near the west entrance. Patches of flowers pushed through thick green grass in the courtyard beside her. The morning sun bounced off her blonde hair. Her light blue dress clung to her curves. It was a normal dress, knee-length with short sleeves and a matching blue belt around the waist. It should have been simple, but it wasn’t. Not on her. She was talking to a younger girl, maybe early twenties. There was an animated lilt to her smile, and then she threw her head back and laughed. God, it was beautiful. It was untainted and real. It reminded me of the Sadie I fell in love with.

I promise I’ll help you find her again, I vowed in silence to a broken queen.

I looked beyond the two women, and my heart stopped. My mouth went dry, and a chill splintered up my spine despite the afternoon sun. A white van with a blue logo, Royal Standard, was parked on the circular path.

I’d seen that van before. I didn’t need Leo’s security footage to know it was the same van, same logo. And it was here, at the palace.

My heart hammered against my ribs. My steps were long and swift. Terror and dread pushed me forward.

This visit was unplanned. No one knew I would be here right now. I hadn’t even told Caspian. Everyone knew Winston had been hospitalized. That meant whoever was in that van was here for Sadie.

I grabbed her. Wrapped my arms around her body, lifted her up and ran with her, not stopping until we were inside the palace.

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