Drake

“Just tell them I’m not involved,” Cade begged Drake.

Cade’s panicked blue eyes reminded him of Rosaliy’s—minus the panic, of course—and he would have helped the man was it in his power. In this situation, any argument Drake might try would make things worse for Cade. Guards were not in the habit of releasing prisoners from dungeons just because they had stories that matched.

He tried anyway. “Silas,” he attempted as the guard with a personal vendetta pulled him out of the wagon. He was proud of himself for finally remembering the man’s name. “Let me explain.” Granted, he was unsure what he was going to explain.

“If you speak to me again, I will punch you so hard, you will lose teeth,” Silas threatened, yanking Drake’s chains until they bit into his wrists.

Drake found his teeth a convenience he’d rather not go without, so he kept his mouth shut until they were safely down in the dungeons of Kianne castle, a heavily-guarded sprawling labyrinth of a place. Kianne clearly enjoyed legality and doling out justice.

A mountainous man lumbered over to meet them them inside a set of iron gates, the single entry and exit to the dungeon. The man had the pale, sun-starved look of someone who worked in a dungeon. The ledger in his hands and the giant ring of keys dangling from his belt implied he was the warden. Drake noticed all these things without really meaning to.

A triumphant Silas handed the warden the weapons he had confiscated: Drake’s sheathed sword—largely decorative anyway—and Cade’s hammer.

Cade launched into the same argument that had fallen on deaf ears with the guards. “I don’t even know him!”

Unlike the guards, the warden raised his bushy eyebrows at Silas, implying a glimmer of hope for Cade.

“I found them together,” Silas argued, “and he was quick to come to Drake’s defense.”

“After this guard punched this man in front of me,” Cade yelped in indignation.

The wrinkles on the warden’s face tightened, creating sharp, dark lines in the torchlight. “Silas, we’ve talked about how Kianne is not some sort of law-of-the-strongest backwoods town.”

“My reaction was not exemplary,” Silas admitted with clenched teeth, the vein on his neck betraying his stress level, “but Drake here is a dangerous criminal.” He jabbed two fingers into Drake’s chest in case there was some doubt who he was talking about.

“Cool down, Silas,” the warden chided before taking down Drake’s name and crimes. Silas was more than happy to provide an exhaustive list of wrong-doings. Some of them were true. Some of them were rumors. Silas seemed to believe Drake was personally guilty of every crime in Bayselle.

Eventually, the warden chuckled at the growing list and tossed the quill from his massive hand. “It would take me all day to write half that, Silas. Can you sum up?”

“He’s the Baysellian lowlife who was blackmailing half the Via Mar troops to ignore the attacks on the merchant vessels coming into port.”

In Drake’s defense, plundering was much easier that way and safer for everyone. There were fewer accidental deaths when law enforcement did not feel the need to insert themselves in the situation. On second thought, that was probably not a good defense.

“You’re not going to object to those claims?” the warden asked Drake.

“Would it do me any good?” Drake asked.

The warden’s hard face split into a grin. “You’re my kind of criminal,” he said. “Sense of humor is sorely lacking in the underworld nowadays. Everybody considers themselves serious rebels against society or too self-important to be taken lightly.”

“I’m neither of those, sir,” Drake assured him.

“You must really have done something terrible, Drake. I’ve never seen Silas quite so unhinged. Nobody has more of a sense of needing to create a just world than Silas over here.”

Silas crossed his arms and glowered. “Are you going to lock them up?”

“Of course. Go talk to Meling,” the warden ordered Silas. “These two will be questioned by someone other than you as soon as an inquisitor is free.”

“But I—” Cade spluttered. “But…”

The warden ignored him. “You look shifty,” he told Drake in a pleasant, open sort of way. “You should probably settle in for a long stay. You—” The warden considered Cade with a touch of sympathy. “If you’re not what you say, I don’t know anything anymore, but the festival has normal operations head over tails, and it will take a while for us to clear up what’s going on. For your sake, I hope the inquisitor declares you innocent of wrong-doing, because if you have to wait around for a trial, you’ll be waiting a long time with King Hale out of town.”

The warden’s last four words echoed in Drake’s mind as if he had screamed them. Hale and Corin had left Crystal Palace long before Rosaliy and Drake had. Emilia mentioned them stopping by. Had they returned and left immediately? With a festival in town? Unfortunately, Drake was in no position to start asking questions about the leadership of a country. Based on Silas’ lengthy list of accusations, the warden would suspect Drake of attempting a militant takeover of all of Kianne.

“Any objections to sharing a cell with your co-conspirator?” the warden asked Cade.

“We’re not—” Cade tried to object.

“Right,” the warden sighed. “Of course. I was joking. I need to remember to joke less on duty. It’s never appreciated.”

Cade eyed Drake with the exact look Drake kept expecting from Rosaliy.

“Your other option is a roomful of drunk carousers who smell just awful. It’s been a long day.”

“No objections,” Cade answered warily.

“Good choice,” said the warden, shuffling papers over to an already overflowing shelf.

The warden pushed open a door directly behind him. The room was empty except for a pot, a basin of water, and a large ring affixed to the floor.

“I’m betting you know the routine. No way to escape, guards everywhere, running makes you look guiltier than you do already.” He took a deep breath, continuing to rattle off warnings. “Next steps if you cause trouble are chaining to the floor and moving to the very bottom of the inquisitor’s priority list. Clear?”

There was no question being asked. Drake and Cade filed into the bare room.

“I figured you two would be easy. That’s why you’re getting your own cell.” The door slammed shut. “Don’t make me regret the goodwill.” Keys scraped in the lock, followed closely by the ominous click of a bolt sliding into place. “If you could keep voices down, I’d appreciate it. Lots of work to do.” The warden bent down so his eyes peered in through the slit in the solid wooden door. “I can’t think of anything you might need, so don’t need anything. Inquisitor will pull you later.”

Drake did know the routine, although it usually involved more threats and violence and threats of violence. Regardless, this was not the point at which to attempt a prison break. Attacking the warden with the hidden knife in his boot would have led nowhere but to a swift and justified murder by Silas. Hopefully a distraction would present itself.

“What’s going on?” hissed Cade.

He had a hundred very entertaining responses to that question, but Cade was not in the mood.

“The person I mentioned before is on a mission,” murmured Drake cryptically. Since Rosaliy was supposed to be covert, throwing her name around the Kianne dungeon was a bad idea. “I was supposed to be finding you to help with that mission, but I happened upon Silas. Or, Silas happened upon me. You saw that part.”

“Are you sure you know my—”

“Shh,” cautioned Drake. “Yes. Magic, teaches kids, little orange freckle on the back of her neck.”

“Huh,” said Cade, now even more confused. “That’s the one. What kind of mission?”

Drake shook his head. Cade deserved answers, but not right now. “Stick to your conveniently true story of not knowing me, don’t mention the other person at all, and you’ll be fine.”

“Is any of that true?” Cade asked, jerking his head in the direction of the door.

“Sure,” Drake admitted, “but the real reason Silas picked me up is that he blames me for getting fired.”

“Is it your fault?”

That was a complicated question. “My actions may have been directly related to his ensuing trouble with staying on the good side of his commanders.”

Cade appeared to be considering if he would be safer begging the warden to throw him in with the drunks.

“I don’t understand why my—” Cade interrupted himself, “why she has anything to do with you.”

“Me neither,” Drake agreed, settling himself on the ground with his back propped against the stone wall. The Kianne dungeon was surprisingly clean. “Please ask her when you see her.”

Since they could not discuss the one person they had in common, Cade and Drake lapsed into an uneasy silence on opposite sides of the room. Once, the inquisitor arrived to report findings to the warden and ask for the next name on the list. The list sounded lengthy. He and Cade would be here for a while. Drake had almost decided to make use of the down time and take a nap when something else happened just outside the door. He felt it coming before he knew what was going on.

“Greetings, ma’am,” the warden said, chair skittering across the floor as he stood up hastily. “And Highness,” he grunted as an afterthought.

Drake hurried to the window slit in the cell door to catch sight of the object of the commotion.

It was Rosaliy, looking gorgeous. She was wearing a scarf in her hair, which made her look exotic, like she should be dancing on a moonlit beach. She was also with someone. Drake knew the person she was with, but his mind refused to focus on anything but her.

“Were Cade and Drake brought in here?” she asked with her lovely, musical voice.

“Right here,” Drake called. He had never hated anything in life more than the door that separated him from Rosaliy.

“Oh, good,” she said. She was happy to see him. His heart had never felt so full of light. “Is Cade with you?” Cade? Who was that?

“I’m here,” said Cade. Right, the brother. Drake remembered now.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and I love you,” Drake said. It needed to be said. She was stunning. Hypnotic.

“Oh no,” Rosaliy responded with a groan. Did he need to try harder? “Not you, too. Cade, are you feeling ok?”

“No, I’m locked in a dungeon,” Cade complained. “What’s going on?”

“That’s a complicated question,” she replied, rubbing the side of her head. Did her head hurt? Did she need warm tea or soup or ice or to have her temples rubbed? He needed to be next to her, through this door. Could he break it? Break it with his hands? What if he got a running start?

“Could you set them free, please?” Rosaliy asked the warden with a smile. Why was she smiling at him? Also, yes, free of this obstacle between them. His heart leapt.

The warden’s face fell. “I don’t have the power to absolve prisoners, lady.” His face lit up. “But I do have keys!” he exclaimed.

Before the warden could explain what laws he was willing to break for Rosaliy, the other person interrupted him. “I can pardon anybody,” he said smugly. “Note that down. I’ve pardoned Rosaliy’s friends for Rosaliy.” He grinned at her with blinding white teeth. “Come join me for dinner.” Drake did know this person. This was that brother. Uncle something. He hardly cared. Nobody loved Rosaliy more than he did. Nobody.

Drake was feeling light-headed already, and the flash of rage made his head even cloudier. “She’s not going anywhere with you,” he growled.

“Rose,” warned Cade nervously, “I’m not sure letting Drake out is the best idea.”

“I need to get out so I can smash him in his smug face,” Drake seethed, gripping the bars of the window.

“Drake, listen to me.” Rosaliy came so close to the door. He wished he could touch her creamy skin through the window, but the slit was too small to fit an arm through—standard prison design. He almost forgot he was supposed to be listening. “You don’t need to smash anyone in the face,” said Rosaliy. Her eyes were such a deep, mesmerizing blue. “Promise me you won’t hurt anyone.”

“Of course,” he promised automatically. “Anything you say.”

She sighed. “Unlock the door, please,” she told the warden.

The warden already had keys in hand, thrilled to have been addressed by the lovely Rosaliy. Lucky man. The warden slid the key into the lock and turned it. The simple action took him approximately five hundred years. No one had ever unlocked a door so slowly. Finally, the barrier was removed, and Rosaliy was right there in front of him. It was agony to be inches away from her when she was so close. Now seemed like a wonderful time to kiss her and prove how much he loved her.

She clamped her hands on his lips before he was able to do so. “If you could try to keep your very passionate feelings to yourself a while, that would be wonderful. Can you do that for me, Drake?”

He nodded. He would do anything for her.

“I hope this wears off,” she fretted, removing her hand. The distance between them was painful. “I hope this isn’t doing any permanent damage to anyone.”

“I thought nobody could be having a stranger day than me, but you seem to have me beat,” said Cade.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Rosaliy muttered. She clapped her hands and turned to the warden. “So you’ve written down that Corin pardoned Cade and Drake?”

“I’ll do that right now,” the warden promised. “I’ll need Corin to sign the order.”

“Of course, because I can give orders,” said Corin, flashing a white-toothed grin. “Do you need anything else, Rose? I can give you anything you want.” Corin then leaned very close to Rosaliy, scooped up her hand, and brought it to his lips.

Drake’s vision went cloudy. “Are you sure I can’t smash him in the face?” he begged.

Rosaliy hesitated, and he balled up his fist. “No, no, no,” she insisted quickly. “No, do not do that. Sign the pardon please, Corin.”

He sighed and took the inked quill offered by the helpful warden.

“Can I have my hammer back?” Cade asked the warden.

The warden blinked at Rosaliy.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Please give back anything you took.”

The warden eagerly handed over the hammer and Drake’s sword. Cade kept the hammer and the sword.

Just then, Silas came down the hallway. “What’s going on here,” he tried to say, but halfway through “here,” he caught sight of Rosaliy and trailed off.

“That’s the guard who has a grudge against Drake,” Cade informed.

“Mmmhmm,” Drake agreed.

“Who are you?” Silas asked Rosaliy with a stupid grin on his face.

“I really need Drake’s help,” explained Rosaliy, forcing a return smile. “So I’m going to take him with me.” She put a hand on Drake’s arm. Her hand seared and sent little thrills up his arm at the same time. She said no to kisses? It was so hard to remember. “I’m really sorry for whatever he did to you.” She paused. “What did you do to him?”

“Ruined his life,” Drake answered automatically.

“Hopefully you’re exaggerating,” she said.

“I don’t think he is,” chimed in Cade.

“He’s a terrible person,” growled Silas. “Wouldn’t you rather have somebody better?”

Oh no. Rosaliy did deserve someone better. She was so wonderful. Drake’s head spun with this new information. Maybe he could show her he loved her by leaving, leaving her to live her life happy and free.

“No, I need him,” she assured Silas. “Hopefully he’ll do something good along the way. Would that make you feel better?”

She needed him. Oh, wonderful day.

“Sure,” agreed Silas, his face softening back into a dopey grin. “Whatever you want.”

Drake’s head swirled from the pendulum of his emotions.

“All taken care of, then,” said Rosaliy. “Cade, Drake—come with me. I need to show you something.”

Everyone moved to follow her.

“No,” she barked before taking a calming breath through clenched teeth. “Corin, soldiers—go back to what you were doing before…” She swirled her hands around. “This. Try your best to forget about me. It’s not meant to be. I’m very sorry.”