Reign Of Shadows: Rise Of Fire Part 12

His fingertips landed on the curve of my cheek and I flinched at the unexpected touch.

"Luna." His voice, so close that it tangled with my erratic breathing, sounded strained, bewildered. "Can you see me?"

A strangled little sound slipped out of me. He knew.

"You can't," he declared, his voice so certain. "You can't see."

"Is that so important?" I asked.

"It's just . . . you fooled me."

"Not entirely. You're calling me out now." I shrugged. "I don't lie about it. It's no secret."

"And yet you pa.s.s for a fully sighted individual."

"Most of the time." Only Fowler had known. Almost immediately, he had known. Heat crept over my cheeks as I recalled walking in on him naked. My lack of reaction had given me away.

"You're full of surprises." For once Chasan didn't sound hard or suspicious. In fact, he lacked his usual armor. More human than arrogant prince.

And his hand was still on my face.

I cleared my ravaged throat, cringing. "It's late. You should go."

"Of course." He dropped his hand and pushed up from the bed. "You'll be safe now, Luna."

He left me alone, shutting the door behind him. I heard his voice as he talked with the guard, all arrogance and hard stone again. Everyone had their veneers, I realized.

Settling back on the bed, I thought about what he said. I was safe again.

I stroked my bruised throat. In no way did I feel that was true, but was safety possible anywhere in this world? Was Allu just a fantasy that I let Fowler feed my needy heart?

Impossible as the notion seemed, Chasan as an ally didn't feel quite so wrong anymore.

SIXTEEN.

Luna

I CONSIDERED MY options throughout the day, turning the facts over in my head. I was stuck here, a virtual prisoner, and the king wanted me to marry into his family. He didn't ask me. He simply informed me-stated it as fact. The same went for Fowler. Tebald expected him to marry Maris.

I needed to find Fowler. I needed to talk to him about sorting this out. I was never alone, though. Breaking away would be a challenge, if not impossible. After the midday meal I was dragged to a rooftop courtyard on the left tower with several other n.o.bles, where they performed an archery demonstration. I couldn't help myself. Listening to songs of arrows, feeling the wind of the Outside on my face, the urge called to me. I took up a bow. I wasn't as good as Fowler, but Sivo had trained me well.

They were shooting at a stuffed dummy hanging from a rope. I listened to the others, to the soft thwacks as arrows. .h.i.t the target, marking the object.

Stepping up, I notched the arrow and let it fly. My chest lifted high as I hit the target, pleasure suffusing me. My hand dove for two more arrows. In quick succession, I let them each go, and both hit the mark.

Applause broke out. A warm hand closed around my elbow. "Bravo, princess."

I turned to face Chasan. "Surprised?"

"That you are skilled with a bow and arrow? Not at all. You strike me as very capable."

I smiled vaguely and inclined my head in thanks. "What about you? Do you shoot?"

"I can shoot, but I have no desire to do it for the entertainment of others."

I sniffed, wondering if he meant to deliberately insult me since I had just done that very thing. In truth, I'd done it for the thrill, not to impress others. I did it for me, but I doubted that he realized that. He didn't know me. He must have read some of my reaction, for his grip on my arm flexed. "I don't judge you," he added, "if that's what you're thinking."

I shrugged and twisted my arm from his grip. "How you perceive me matters little."

"No? I thought it might, all things considered."

"You mean because your father wishes us to wed," I finished.

"I think it's more than a wish."

I crossed my arms. "You think it an eventuality? Does my opinion not matter? Does not yours? What do you wish for, Prince Chasan?"

He didn't touch me, but I felt him lean in. I felt his warm breath at my forehead, felt the heat radiating off him and knew his taller form was crowding me. "You interest me."

Because I was so different from everyone else? That's what he'd told me last. "Because I'm blind?" I asked, challenge in my voice.

"That's only one part of you. I wish to know you better, Luna. Explore all parts of you." His voice dropped, and heat slapped my face. Why did it sound like he was talking about something physical? "Are you opposed to that notion?" he continued in that purring voice. "Should we not at least grow better acquainted?"

"Yes, I could . . . tolerate that." What else could I say? No, I'm plotting escape.

"Try not to sound too enthused." He chuckled. "You're very good. This is yours. Keep it." He thrust the bow and shaft of arrows at me.

"For me?" I smoothed my hand over the polished wood, following the arch in admiration.

"Why not? You're one of the few people who actually knows how to use it." Almost to prove his words, another arrow was released. The shooter aimed too low and it skimmed along the ground, too close to bystanders if the sudden yelps and squawks were any indication.

"Thank you," I said, hugging the bow and shaft of arrows close to my side.

"It's nothing. Hardly a gift. At least not the type of present one gives to his betrothed."

I managed a tense smile, marveling at the ease with which he accepted me as his future wife. Maybe because that's all he ever did-follow his father's commands.

Someone else arrived in our midst, his staccato steps stopping beside the prince. His voice was low but not inaudible to my ears. "The hunt master would like a word with you." The servant's steps receded, leaving us alone again. As alone as we could be on a rooftop full of people.

"You're going out there," I murmured. "To hunt dwellers?"

"It's what I do."

"I don't understand. Why? It seems an unnecessary risk."

"I don't have to travel as far from the castle as I used to, to find them. More of them are coming closer to Ainswind, risking the rock terrain. After all these years, there are fewer of us for them to hunt. They're getting bolder." I sensed his shrug. "They need eliminating."

"I did not think your father wanted you to leave the protection of these walls, and yet you go out on these hunts."

"He doesn't like it, but he accepts that I'm good at it. I haven't died doing it yet," he joked.

"That's the qualification for being 'good' at something?" I snorted. "Sensible."

Suddenly my fingers were seized as he lifted my hand. Dry, cool lips brushed the backs of my knuckles. "I'll see you this evening at dinner, Luna. We can continue our conversation then."

An invisible band squeezed around my chest. I didn't want another conversation with him. I didn't want to be here for another day.

I managed to nod my agreement. He grazed his thumb over my knuckles once in a lingering stroke before letting go of my hand. I listened as his tread faded away, and released a relieved breath.

Everyone continued to step up and try their hand at shooting. Over laughter and applause, I slipped away, leaving the courtyard behind. Since my bedchamber door was guarded at night, my best chance to see Fowler was now. I hurried down winding steps, but my departure wasn't missed for long. The servant who had escorted me to the courtyard called out above me. My panicked heart jerked in my chest.

Once I hit the corridor floor, I broke into a run, determined to lose my escort. Clutching my bow in one hand, my other skimming the wall to keep my bearings, I turned down the hall. My fingers brushed a thick wall hanging, and I tucked myself behind the tapestry and held still, holding my breath, listening as my escort rushed past. Certain that she was gone, I slipped out from behind the hanging and started down corridor after corridor, pausing at doors to listen.

I pa.s.sed my bedchamber and kept going, a.s.suming Fowler would be in the same wing. A prince betrothed to the king of Lagonia's daughter wouldn't be relegated to anything less than a bedchamber in the royal household.

I had to see Fowler. It was more than a.s.suring myself of his well-being. Selfishly, I needed to see him for me. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to tell him what was happening and hear him tell me that there was a way out of this-that he had no intention of marrying Maris. That we could escape together. Fowler had always been that for me. My comfort when things seemed lost and at their darkest.

Laughter trickled through a door to my left and I stopped, pressing my palms to the thick wood. Leaning in, I flattened my ear to the door and listened. Instantly, I recognized the deep rumble of Fowler's voice.

My heart leaped. He was awake and talking. My hand moved for the latch, eager to burst inside and touch him, to feel the proof of him alive under my fingertips. His betrayal seemed a long time ago. The shock had ebbed, and I'd begun to think about how it must feel for Fowler to born to a man as awful as Cullan. He was a victim of birth. As was I: born amid a moment of chaos, my parents lost to me before I ever knew them. The sins of his father weren't his. Fowler could have told me the truth, but I hadn't told him who I was until someone else had guessed it.

"Oh, Fowler, you need to eat this. Don't be difficult now. I don't care if you claim it tastes like horse dung . . . and how you even know that I don't want to speculate." Maris paused to giggle. "You need your strength if you're to leave this bed."

Fowler's soft chuckle followed this. The sound was deep and velvet and full of amus.e.m.e.nt. It was strange to hear him laughing at all, much less laughing with Maris. I had heard that laughter only a few times. Rare as the sound was, I had prized it. My heart clenched to hear him laugh so freely with Maris, even though it had no right to hurt or ache. It was his laughter and not mine to own.

"I can already see how our marriage will be," Maris teased in a voice full of fondness. "You stubborn but always making me laugh." A long pause followed these words. I heard nothing but the clink of a spoon in a bowl. "I look forward to our future, Fowler. My only regret is that you took so long to get here."

I sucked in a pained breath. I waited to hear his response, his denial or acceptance of her words. Neither came. But then, perhaps his silence was an answer in itself. His silence was acceptance. Perhaps his brush with death had led to this? Perhaps his grat.i.tude to Lagonia for saving his life had changed his mind?

Maybe he had forgotten all about his quest to reach Allu.

Maybe he had forgotten about me.

I turned my face in the direction of my chamber. To h.e.l.l with all this supposition. It didn't matter. He wasn't mine. He belonged to Lagonia now. Perhaps I needed to embrace the same fate and belong to Lagonia, too.

At least I would belong somewhere.

There were worse fates. I could spend all day counting them. Prince Chasan . . . Maybe something could grow between us. Listening to Fowler and Maris, it was clear that something had already started to grow between them.

I backed away from the door as if it were something tangible that might leap out and bite me. Fowler's voice started to speak again, and I quickly turned away. I didn't want to hear any more. I didn't need to. I'd heard everything I needed to.

SEVENTEEN.

Luna

I WAS HALFWAY asleep when the scream woke me. It was a faint cry, drifting from somewhere deep within the bowels of the castle, but I still heard it. I held myself motionless in the colossal bed, counting softly, hoping to give myself something to fixate on besides the goose b.u.mps feathering my skin and the chill chasing my spine. Closing my eyes, I started to relax until it came again, just a weak thread of sound on the air.

Sitting up, I flung the covers back off the bed. I wasn't sleeping anymore. s.n.a.t.c.hing up my robe, I shrugged into it and slipped out of my chamber.

Another scream shook the air. I followed the sound, my ears perking and straining.

I skimmed a palm along the wall, feeling my way, occasionally brushing tapestries and portraits and decorative sconces in my quest to track the scream.

A part of me acknowledged that this was probably not the wisest course of action, but then I reminded myself that the screams I'd heard were human. I knew a dweller's cry. Someone was in trouble, hurting. I knew the sound of that quite well.

As I continued down the corridor, a low rumble surged on the air. It faded only to surface again moments later. This second surge was smaller, quieter, but this time I had no trouble identifying it for what it was-applause. Cheers.

Someone was terrified, in pain, and people were cheering? I shook my head. It didn't make sense.

I hesitated before I continued, my pace quickening. Rounding the corner, I almost collided with another individual turning into the same corridor from the opposite direction.

"Oh, forgive me, I didn't see where I was going." Soft hands grasped my arms and the smell of dried lavender tickled my nose. I vaguely recalled the scent from one of the ladies at court. The first day I arrived I remembered smelling her sitting beside Gandal, the physician's son. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm guessing you and I are headed to the same destination, yes?"

"Uh-"

"Of course you are. Who told you about it? Maris? The prince? Never mind. Well, you are in for a rare show indeed. Such a treat, I tell you."

I decided to venture with honesty. "I heard a scream. I was following the sound."

"Oh, very bold, are you?" She giggled. Not the reaction I was expecting, but nothing was as I'd expected since arriving here.

"Truly, I heard screams-"

"Of course you did, you ninny. Don't be afraid. It's not what you think."