Defy (8 page)

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Authors: Sara B. Larson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Love & Romance, #Action & Adventure, #General

BOOK: Defy
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would be his normal, petulant self. I didn’t think I could handle

any more surprises today.

I knocked once and when there was no response, I slowly

opened the door. “Your Highness?”

The room was darkened, the curtains drawn. At first, I

couldn’t see anything, until my eyes adjusted to the thickness of

the gloom. The prince sat in his large armchair, his head between

his hands, elbows propped up on his desk. His perfectly pomaded

52

hair was actually in disarray. There was a feeling of heaviness in the room, as though the air had taken on the weight of something

unseen, something pressing in, pressing
down
.

“Your Highness?” I repeated, my stomach twisting nervously

when he didn’t respond.

Prince Damian lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes meeting

mine. There was a look of such unguarded unhappiness on his face

that my heart lurched unwittingly beneath my ribs.

“Alex,” he said, his voice low, in a tone I’d never heard before.

“Sir?” I took a half step toward him.

The prince stood up abruptly, turning his back to me, and I

froze. A strange, unaccustomed silence settled upon the room.

“Sir, are you . . . all right?” My heart beat harder in my chest.

He drew in a sharp breath and I f linched. Had that been too

womanly a thing to say? Would a man have asked after his well-

being? I was a member of his personal guard — shouldn’t it be

normal to be concerned if he seemed . . . out of sorts? This was

twice now that I’d seen a side to him I never had before. I felt

unbalanced, as though the ground I stood on were suddenly shift-

ing beneath me.

“The girl — where is she?”

“She’s in the dungeon awaiting questioning, sir.”

“Very good.” When he faced me again, the unhappiness, the

something
that was in his eyes, was gone. Here was the prince I knew. He reached up to smooth his hair back into place, his

motions practiced, memorized, almost lazy. One eyebrow lifted

while a small smirk slowly pulled at his mouth. “You will make

sure she receives the full punishment of the law, I assume? You,

who always puts duty first, right, Alex?”

53

I wasn’t sure I understood what he was asking of me. It felt

like there was an underlying question, a hidden meaning beneath

his drawling voice. Sentencing Tanoori to death while practically

yawning.

“She will undoubtedly be punished to the full extent of the

law, Your Highness. Your safety is of the utmost importance.”

“As it should be. As it should be.” He lifted something from

his desk, and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It

looked like a trinket of some sort. He suddenly closed his fist over

it, and I barely heard it clink against the signet ring on his finger.

“I’m quite all right. It was a shock, of course, to have the servant

come at me with a knife. But my men are good and stopped her in

time, obviously.” A strange look crossed his face when he looked

down at the object in his hand — that same hint of grief I’d seen

earlier this morning when he brief ly spoke of his brother. “If she

had succeeded, though, do you suppose anyone would mourn

my loss?”

I stiffened. “Sir?”

Prince Damian looked up at me, his expression hooded. “My

mother is gone. My brother is gone. My father hardly realizes I’m

alive. If I had died today, do you think anyone would have cried at

my funeral?”

I stared at the prince, at a complete loss for words. My

hands were clammy at my side. “Sir, I . . . I believe there would

be many —”

“Would
you
have cared?” He cut me off abruptly. “If you had

come back from the practice ring to find me lying here dead,

would you have cried for me, Alex?”

54

“Y-your Highness, how can you ask me such a thing?” I real-

ized too late that my voice had come out too high, too feminine,

but he didn’t even blink.

“I suppose that’s my answer, then.” Damian set the trinket

down hard on the desk and waved his fingers at me. “You may go.”

I nodded, backing toward the door. “Yes, sir.”

I had failed him somehow, but I didn’t know how to fix it. Or

why I would even care to try. I was glad to be dismissed, grateful

to leave behind the unexpected pang of concern for a prince I’d

long ago convinced myself was as corrupt as his father.

The door swung open without a sound — the hinges were

well oiled. But voices lifted in anger greeted me. Deron, Rylan,

and Jude stood in front of the doorway, their stances tense. Facing

them were three of the king’s guard and Iker.

“Captain, I require a word with you and Prince Damian,” Iker

was saying. His greasy hair looked even shinier than normal and

his robes were stained and wrinkled, as though he’d slept in them.

I couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to garner such favor from

the king as to become his chief advisor.

“The prince is indisposed and needs some time to collect him-

self.” Deron glanced at me as I walked over to where they stood.

Iker’s lips pursed. “The king is concerned for his son’s well-

being and I have come to make sure proper measures are put into

place to ensure his safety.”

“I assure you that we have things well under control and that

the prince will be more closely guarded than —”

“That is not enough.” Iker cut Deron off. “By order of King

Hector, one of you will personally stay here at night, guarding the

55

prince’s door at all hours. He must have someone by his side at all

times. We can take no chances with the life of the heir to the throne.”

Deron was silent for a moment; a muscle stood out on his

jaw. Finally, he barely inclined his head. “It will be as the king

wishes. Alex is the best man we have. I will assign him to guard the

prince’s door.”

I stared at Deron for a moment too long. “You wish me to

sleep
here
?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Prince Damian’s voice made

me jump.

Iker bowed to the prince, then smiled — a smile as oily as his

hair. “Your father is concerned for your safety. We are putting

greater measures of protection in place to ensure your continued

well-being.”

“By making me a prisoner to my own guard?”

I stepped aside as Prince Damian strode up to Iker. Damian’s

expression was sardonic, his voice insolent. But tension hung

around him like a palpable shroud.

“Not a
prisoner

imagine the thought.” Iker tittered.

“Always, you’ve had such a lively imagination. No, you may con-

tinue your life as you see fit, but Captain D’agnen or members of

his guard will always be with you to make sure no one can get

close enough to threaten you ever again.”

“I see.” The insolence was gone from Prince Damian’s voice,

replaced instead by a coldness that made me shiver.

“Captain D’agnen has assigned Alex to sleep here, in the outer

chamber, to protect your door from intruders.”


Alex
is going to be sleeping right here — outside my door?”

There was a strange hint of bemusement in Prince Damian’s voice.

56

He glanced at me with his eyebrows lifted. For some odd reason, I

had to fight to keep from blushing. Men on the prince’s guard did

not
blush.

“As the captain pointed out” — Iker looked back at me with a

mysterious glint in his eyes — “your men are good, but Alex is the

best. Surprisingly.”

My mouth felt dry, but I forced myself to lower my head in

acknowledgment of his somewhat backhanded compliment.

Iker turned back to Prince Damian. “This ensures the king’s

peace of mind for his son’s safety.”

“As my safety is the king’s greatest concern.” Prince Damian’s

voice was biting.

“Indeed, Your Highness,” Iker said. “You are his heir.”

“You will have to thank him for his concern on my behalf.”

Prince Damian turned on his heel, heading back into his room,

until he paused. “I wish to lie down and rest, maybe even use

my chamber pot. Does Captain D’agnen or Alex need to come

hold my hand? Make sure no one sneezes near me while I relieve

myself?”

It took every bit of control I possessed to keep my face impas-

sive in that moment. I was torn between letting my jaw drop and

bursting out in laughter. I could see the other men struggling

as well.

Iker f lushed an ugly shade of puce. “Do you make
light
of the attempt on your life?” There was a strange note to his voice, but I

couldn’t place it. Almost sarcasm.

“Absolutely not,” the prince replied. “I only seek to know just

how involved you — I mean,
Father
— intends to have Captain D’agnen be in keeping guard over me.”

57

Iker met Prince Damian’s icy glare. “As involved as necessary

to keep you from coming to harm.”

“Well, as I see no one hiding in my bed with a sword or stand-

ing over my chamber pot with an ax, I believe I shall retire to my

room. This has been an exhausting morning, to say the least.”

Prince Damian yawned deeply as if to prove his point, walked into

his room, and slammed the door shut.

“You will do as the king wishes, won’t you, Captain D’agnen?”

Iker’s glance paused on me before pinning Deron with a pointed

stare. Iker’s eyes were such a dark gray, they almost looked black,

and his skin was sickly pale. I’d never liked being around him, but

after seeing him in his room the other night and after what he’d

made us do to those girls, looking at him made my skin crawl.

“Yes, we will do everything required of us to protect our

prince.”

I pressed my fist to my chest along with the rest of the guard

and we all bowed to Iker. Even though I was completely panicked

inside, I had to appear calm. There was no reason Alex Hollen,

second only to the captain of the prince’s personal guard, would

have a problem sleeping near his liege. Alex had nothing to hide.

But
Alexa
did, and I had no idea what this would mean for keeping up my disguise.

“Excellent. That is all.” Iker swept the other men with his dark

gaze, then turned on his heel and exited the room, the king’s

guards behind him.

I stared after them, shifting my face into a mask to conceal the

dread coiling in my belly. I had to get down to the dungeons right

away, before Tanoori undid Marcel’s sacrifices to protect me by

revealing my secret.

58

 eight 

M
y footsteps echoed on the stone stairs leading down to

the dungeons. The outfit I wore was intended to intimi-

date: tall, heavy boots; thick gloves with metal knuckles; my sword

at my side. That was what I intended to do — what I
had
to do.

Intimidate Tanoori to keep her from revealing who I was. I’d man-

aged to convince Deron to let me be the one to interrogate her,

thankfully. My secret depended on keeping her silent.

The dungeons were dank, the air hot and wet and stale as I

descended into the depths of the palace. I’d always thought it

would be cooler down there, but the dungeons were built above

the forge and the heat of the constant fires seeped through the

ground into the dark cells. It would be a kindness on our part to

fulfill Tanoori’s sentence quickly. To die fast was better than to rot down here, slowly losing who you were to the dark, the filth, the

stench and madness that claimed all long-term tenants of the cells

eventually.

“Where is the prisoner?” I asked Jaerom, the keeper of the

keys. He was Deron’s cousin. Deron was taller, but Jaerom was big-

ger; his arms were the size of small tree trunks. His skin was slightly lighter than Deron’s, closer to the color of coffee, rather than the

darkness of the nighttime sky.

59

“She’s over here,” Jaerom said, picking up his keys and a torch,

which he handed to me. I followed him to one of the cells and took

a deep breath. “The cap’n asked you to do the questioning, huh,

Little Boss?”

“Yes.” I stared at the door that stood between me and possible

discovery. Jaerom thought it was hilarious that I’d beaten his huge

cousin in the fight to join the guard. Even though Deron had kept

the captainship, Jaerom had called me Little Boss ever since. “I’d

like to question her alone. Make sure no one comes or goes until I

say so.”

“Going to lull her into security and then go for the throat,

eh?” Jaerom shot me a wry grin as he f lipped through his key

chain.

“You know me too well,” I replied, watching as he selected the

right key and pushed it into the lock. The dead bolt scraped back

with the screech of metal on metal.

“She’s all yours. Enjoy.” Jaerom opened the door with a f lour-

ish and I marched past him.

I waited until the door shut behind me and his footsteps

receded before I placed the torch in a bracket on the wall and

turned to face Tanoori.

She was still tied to a chair, the gag as tight in her mouth as it

had been an hour before, but the fight seemed to have gone out of

her. She stared up at me, motionless.

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