Page 31 of Sky of Thorns

Lemon pushes his cold nose against the palm of my hand, then looks down towards the door. He still wears the small leather pouch around his body with my family’s crest ring. I pull it out then slide it over the index finger of my left hand, marveling as the metal slowly reshapes to fit perfectly snug.

“Well, that’s unexpected. Thanks boy,” I whisper to Lemon. I drop a kiss on his nose in thanks. “What would I do without you?” Lemon licks my cheek in response, and I laugh as I deposit him in my skirt pocket. Glancing one last time at my prison, I quickly pull on the soft slippers at the foot of my bed. An idea dawns on me and I stuff the pillows under my blanket to make it appear I am asleep.

Goosebumps raise along my arms as I slowly creep down the stone stairwell. I rub my arms, willing warmth into them as I try to envision the hallway that leads to the back gardens. My teeth chatter as I move further away from the warmth of my fireplace. If the Goddess looks favorably on me, perhaps I will find a pair of boots and a cloak before venturing outside. I shudder, imagining the early winter’s chill this time of year, but enduring the cold is a challenge I am willing to take if it means leaving this demonic place behind.

My lungs burn by the time I reach the bottom of the stairs. I am more out of shape than I realized. The chattering of voices from down the hall has me pressing back against the wall. My heart beats furiously in my chest as I hold my breath, listening as the voices fade as they turn into another hallway. I wipe my sweaty palms against my skirt. That was close. Lemon pokes his head out of my pocket and squeaks at me.

“Sorry, boy.” I gently stroke his head before daring to lean out the archway. The girls’ voices have gone to the left, presumably to the kitchen or servants’ hallway. While I do not think many of the servants would recognize me, I don’t want to risk running into Alice.

I step into the hallway and turn right. There is no one in sight. Keeping my head bowed low, I hurry through the passageway, retracing the same steps I had taken when Kieran had led me back from the gardens. If I can make it outside, there is a chance I can escape into the forest and improvise from there. My magic has been slowly returning, there is a chance I could shift. Picking up my pace, I continue down the hallways; left, right, and left again.

“The Queen grows restless. She’s been taking out her frustration on–” A male’s voice speaks from the hallway I have just turned out of.

“Be quiet, lest one of her spies overhears, and she takes it out on you.” Another male replies. My heart races as the icy grip of fear coils in my gut, leaving me frozen in place. I am no better than a deer in the forest with a hunter’s eyes burning holes into my back. As quietly as I can, I force my feet to keep moving on, but as I round another corner, I slam face first into a warm and familiar chest.

As I stumble back a step, my heart races with fear, and I lose my balance. His arm lunges out, and a rush of air envelopes me as his hand catches me around the waist. The sound of my gasp fills the air as he pulls me close. I can smell the faint scent of him as the warmth of his grip burns into my skin through the thin fabric of my gown. I tilt my head up and meet Aramis’s familiar icy blue gaze.

“Sybil?” Concern and surprise spark across his face. A moment later, his expression turns back to a stony coldness.

“Aramis. I—“ My mouth is agape as I stand there, at a loss for words. The silence is deafening, only broken by the faint sound of our breathing. I find myself unable to break my gaze from his.

“What are you doing here?” he says as he looks from the hallway beyond me to Nero beside him.

“N-nothing,” I stutter, trying to pull out of his grip.

I’m too confused, too lonely to sift through my heart. Not after everything I’ve learned. Whatever draw I have to him must just be because he’s the prince, which means I need to pull myself together. He doesn’t say a word, but his fingers tighten around my waist as he takes in the look of my bruised body after weeks of malnourishment and abuse. Even if my soul knows better, there’s something in the touch that beckons me. A brush of wind moves my hair away so he can assess the sharp lines of my face and neck, the action swiftly pulling down my walls, even if I don’t want it to. My lips part at the familiarity. Aramis’ gaze widens slightly at the severity of change over my physique.

“Who did this to you?” Aramis questions, his tone stern, but edged with concern. “You’re nothing but skin and bones. Where–”

“Ah, your highness. I’m so glad you apprehended her. I was about to alert the guards that the rabid shifter escaped the tower.” Kieran’s smooth diplomatic voice comes from behind me. His icy fingers settle along the back of my neck, causing the hair along my scalp to prickle. My limbs suddenly feel heavy as lead, my eyelids drooping as a sensation of calm passes over me.

Aramis glances up at Kieran and a muscle ticks in his jaw. “We are just returning from our mission. Unfortunately, we got there too late. Again.” Anger lacing his words directed towards Kieran. He is talking about Larnwick. Should I do it? Tell him about the Queen? What if Aramis already knows and I look like a fool once more?

Then again, I owe the shifters of Shadowvale. If their prince truly doesn’t know, then surely I need to find a way to tell them about the attacks and Tricella’s plans.

“Well, isn’t thata shame? What will your mother think, coming back empty-handed?“ Kieran’s hand moves and clasps around my elbow. Panic fills my veins.

“She’snotmy mother.“ Aramis’s fingers do not loosen their grip on me. “Where are you taking Sybil? Surely her trial should have concluded days ago. Why is she still here?” His voice filled with wrath.

I gather all the courage I have left and try to pull out of Kieran’s grip. “Aramis you need to know the tru—,” I shout, but my words are cut short as another wave of extreme calm washes over me, so strong this time that I start slipping into a trance, completely conscious but with no control over my own body.

“Mother—stepmother.” Kieran shrugs, ignoring me. “It matters little. She is our Queen and thus mother to the whole kingdom and to answer your question, we are still assessing the case of this particular prisoner. In the meantime, the queen ordered me to move her to the dungeon with the other shifters.” The seer pulls on my elbow with more force, but Aramis refuses to relinquish his grip.

“Why?” He asks through gritted teeth, his body tense like a predator ready to jump on his prey. Nero shuffles restlessly behind him, the sound of his boots scraping against the ground echoing through the quiet hall as he lays his hand along the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“Are you questioning a direct order from the queen? You know she has a tendency to punish the people you care about when you do not cooperate, Prince Aramis.” My mind swims like I’m stuck in a fog from the magic binding me, barely registering the scowl on Keiran’s face as everything blurs in and out of focus.

“Your highness, if I may,” the seer continues. I stare at the stone floor, breathing heavily as I try my best to focus. “I’d suggest you do not worry yourself with political matters such as this. This woman is just another criminal, and your focus is better spent on finally eradicating the rebellious threat from these lands.” Aramis’s hold tightens around my waist. “After all, as crowned prince, the safety of the kingdom of Shadowvale should be your only priority,” Kieran says with a courteous smile that does not reach his eyes and bows his head. Aramis’s nostrils flare at the disrespect neatly masked under false politeness, and I know he is using every ounce of self control he possesses to not to rip the seer’s head off his body. “And please, your grace, do not forget to take yourguard dogwith you. It would do no good to scare the help at such early hours of the morning,“ Kieran spits in Nero’s direction, disgust written all over his face, but the guard simply smirks, unruffled by the insult.

Aramis takes a step forward, my body so close to his now that my nose gently brushes his leathers, the scent inviting through my stupor. He towers over me and leans towards Kieran, his eyes narrowing. “Do not think for a second that you hold any real power within these walls simply because Tricella has a soft spot for your useless visions. I would have thrown you into the gutters years ago. The royal guard will no longer act in accordance with whatever it is that you see.” Each word is measured and deliberate, laced with a chilling calmness that sends shivers down my spine.

“As you wish, your grace,” is Kieran’s only response, and if Aramis’s threat has affected him in any way, he does not show it. Aramis hesitates one more second before he reluctantly lets go, and with one final curtsey, Kieran forces me to turn away. My steps are unsteady as we march down a set of stairs to our left, my hand gliding against the cold stone walls for balance.

Even though my mind may be altered, I swear his icy blue eyes burn holes into my back as we descend.

Sybil

Thecelldoorslamsin my face, the sharp clang of the cold metal bars echoing through the dimly lit room and his power over me instantly washes away. Leaning forward, I grip the bars tightly, the rough texture scraping against my skin.

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