Page 11 of A Story of Sinners

George groaned, and footsteps rapidly approached my bedside. A jagged breath whispered across my cheek, and I could sense Gabriella’s eyes burrowing into me. A gasp sounded, and her voice was filled with ire when she spoke. “I hate you for this, George. I hate you.”

That made two of us.

Gabriella’s footsteps receded, and the door slammed closed.

“You weren’t supposed to let her in,” Brandon groaned.

“What was I supposed to do? She pushed past me, and she punches hard.”

My lips twitched.

“There you are,” Redmond whispered to me. My eyes slid open, landing on my mentor. He looked haggard and pale; his brown hair was disheveled, more so than usual, and his spectacles appeared to be cracked. “Thank goodness.”

The back of his hand warmed my forehead, and a frown stretched across his face.

“Redmond,” I croaked, but he hushed me and brought a glass of water to my lips.

“Drink.”

Using my arms and the pillows beneath me, I struggled to sit and drink. Cold water spilled from my mouth, and I urged Redmond to pour faster.

He pulled away, taking the glass with him. “You need to slow down. Too much too quickly will make you sick.”

The protest died on my lips as my eyes scanned my surroundings, taking in my old room—the mistress room. My gaze landed on George and Brandon seated at the tea table across from my bed, their faces lined with weary expressions.

Brandon wore armor made of a lighter material than what he used to wear, thick black leather with silver plates along the chest and arms. George’s outfit, though, was one of a courtier or high ranking official. Gone was the armor he usually wore, and in its place was a purple and gold surcoat.

It seemed a lot had changed while I’d been locked away.

“Why am I in this place?” I directed the question to Redmond, ignoring the brothers who dared to look bashful. If I were to be a prisoner outside the dungeon, the sanctum would be ideal.

“The king wanted you here, though I tried to convince him to let you recover in the sanctum. I even offered to rewrite the warding so it would keep you locked inside.” Redmond’s eyes shifted to Brandon and George. “Can you give us a moment?”

George scowled and leaned back into his chair, settling in—an outright refusal to grant Redmond’s request—making it clear I wasn’t to be trusted. He was right. I shouldn’t be trusted, but the fire in my belly had all but disappeared. They might as well leave me be. I wasn’t capable of much, at least not in this state, and definitely not with these rune cuffs twined about my wrists.

A weary silence stretched over the room, andBrandon, always the peacekeeper of the group, stood, elbowing his brother into action. “We’ll be right outside. You have five minutes.”

Silence stretched across the room as the two men left, and I eyed Redmond. He was tense, much more so than usual. I wanted to ask him where he’d been, why he’d disappeared, but I was unsure I could handle the answer. He’d always been my rock, and the possibility of himchoosingto abandon me would hurt my dead heart.

So, I changed the subject and focused on gaining the answers of what took place while I was locked away.

“I take it Brandon is my guard…but why is George dressed like a courtier?”

Redmond fluffed the pillows behind me, his motions skittish. I waved him off, unable to handle the nervous energy vibrating off him.

“Well, Brandon is the captain of the King’s Guard now, but despite the promotion, he has been put in charge of watching you. George, well, he is the King’s Hand. Aiden’s Advisor.”

“That makes sense. The two have always been Aiden’s strongest supporters.” I leaned back, feeling slightly bitter—an emotion I hadn’t felt in a while. It must have been lying dormant beneath the desperation. “They supported him enough to tattle and have me thrown in the dungeon, anyways.” I shook my head and sighed. “Tell me what else has happened while I was…away.”

“A lot has changed,” Redmond stated, nervously pushing his spectacles along the bridge of his nose. “First, there was the royal wedding. It happened the day after your imprisonment. I didn’t mention it when I visited—you were already processing too much to be bothered with something so trivial. Then, after the wedding, the King and Queen of New Hazel returned to their island nation,” he stated with a smile, but it was tight, pained. He was clearly hiding something.

“What are you hiding Redmond? What are you not saying?”

His eyes squeezed shut, but he reopened them, meeting my gaze with a determined look. The little muscles in his cheek flexed, as if fighting back the words, and he rose and ventured to the closest window. “You’ve been locked away for quite a while, Dahlia. Three months, to be exact. It’ll be easier to show you, rather than describe it.”

His hand gripped the curtains, and with a slight tug, they slid wide open. My mouth gaped at the sight before me.

Outside lay darkness—not the darkness of night, but instead, the shadowy gloom that once shrouded the world before the war. There were no stars in the sky, no moon, only the empty contour of smoke fogging the air. A dim cloud hovered just outside the windowsill.

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