Chapter Twenty

Sébastien was particularly grateful for the halls around his room being empty. Nobody saw him hurrying to his room with his hair messed up and his cloak concealing his sleep clothes. Clearly, he'd done more than sleep the night before.

He entered his dark sitting room and slipped his cloak from his shoulders. He could have sworn he'd left a lantern on. He made his way to the dark shape of the side table by the couch and close to the fireplace so he could touch the one there. He accidentally double-tapped the top as his hand found it by mistake. The sudden, bright light made him blink and squint as he tossed his cloak over the back of the couch.

There shouldn't have been a woman sitting in the armchair across from it. Or anything shiny in her hands. Or a man coming from the right with a spear.

Sébastien jerked aside to avoid the throwing knife she threw with practiced ease. It whizzed by his head, and he didn't have time to avoid the crossbow bolt that came from the direction of his dark bedroom.

The bolt in his leg hurt to say the least. Part of him screamed inside to use his magic and not freeze. The fire fizzled from his hand as something pierced his shoulder. The spear wielder put all of his weight into the attack to shove him backward, and Sébastien could have sworn he heard bone crack right before his back slammed into the stones of the dark fireplace. What little air he had left vanished as he struggled to keep his footing.

He grabbed at the shaft close to his body in a futile effort to pull it out. The man leaned all of his weight into it, effectively pinning him, and Sébastien heard the slight scrape of steel against the stone behind him.

His vision went entirely black and returned before the agony roared to life around the several inches of steel rammed through his shoulder. Rage flared in his chest, although the prick of pain over his heart was barely anything.

Sébastien shouted as loudly as he could even as he remembered Remus saying no one slept on that side of the Palace. They had no court, the servants were downstairs, and any werewolves who slept inside were on the opposite side of the Palace. He was supposed to have peace and not be disturbed by voices in the hall and servants bustling around throughout the day. With the doors locked, he'd have solitude to rest and relax for a change.

No one was going to hear him.

Four men in dark green exited from the bedroom, and a familiar voice echoed his thoughts. "No one's going to hear you."

Sébastien's heart pounded as he struggled to bring his fire back. Not even a spark came to life in his hands. The metal had lirek worked into it, and his heart beat painfully hard as the Regent paused by the side of the armchair. His clothes were plain and rumpled as if he'd been wearing them for a couple of days at least.

"Did you check the secret spots in this Palace? I'm sure Remus did." Corentin came close enough that if Sébastien wasn't pinned to the damn fireplace, he could have leaned over and struck him. "He didn't think to check for new ways in and out, did he?"

The woman stood and glanced at Sébastien as she crossed the room to fetch her knife. "I didn't miss."

She'd been a distraction along with the one who held a crossbow. They weren't going to kill him. Not yet. The pieces were already tumbling into place in his head despite the agony that demanded so much attention. Warm liquid dribbled down his shoulder, darkening the black of his sleep shirt, and the wound itself seemed to pulse, spreading the pain through his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to say hello to me?" Corentin tugged on the collar of his snug, green shirt and looked about the room as Sébastien flicked his eyes to the spear wielder. "You haven't seen me in a while."

The man was a little bigger than Sébastien, although not unbeatable if it came to fists or swords. The problem was that he had the advantage now. His gloved hands gripped the spear, and with the way he'd planted his boots to put his weight into the weapon…

"Then again, I'm sure plotting with Remus took up much of your attention."

Sébastien wouldn't be able to get the damn thing out with only one good arm.

"You must not have had much time to think of others, as usual."

Besides the spear wielder, Sébastien would never get to the door. There was nothing he could plan and no path he could get down by fighting. The woman was too close to the door, and three other men waited behind Corentin. One was distracted by spanning his crossbow with a hook on his belt. None of them had a weapon sticking out of their bodies, so they could move easily. One was quite large, and another had a permanent frown.

"Surely, you spared one thought for-"

Sébastien was beyond fucked.

"-your dear Uncle."

The only thoughts about him involved outmaneuvering him and his eventual demise. Plus the ones Uncle had stuffed into his memories which popped up unbidden whenever they wanted, invading every part of Sébastien's life.

Corentin made a gesture at the spear wielder, and Sébastien tightened his jaw as he held onto the shaft. Unfortunately, he wasn't the one in control of it. The man didn't loosen his death grip on the spear as he twisted it. Fresh pain lanced through his shoulder and arm as he kept himself silent. He hadn't cried in years and wasn't about to start again. No tears. No pitiful pleas or admitting it hurt in the hopes that it would stop.

It never worked.

Corentin sighed at the lack of response and snapped his fingers. "Put the collar on him and take out the bolt. Once that's healed, we can move."

A big man, possibly one of the Ten Knight brothers, moved forward with a collar like the sort prisoners wore to keep their magic useless.

"Don't you think Remus is going to notice at some point that I'm missing?" Sébastien finally asked. "A Palace and city full of people will eventually notice."

"We'll be gone." Corentin sounded so sure of himself as if he knew everything he'd been planning in the past years would come to fruition. Even if he had to make a few changes or wait a little longer than anticipated, it would all come to pass as he wanted.

Sébastien had felt that utter surety before, but sometimes, he'd doubted himself.

He'd made the worst mistake by never imagining Corentin leaving home to come across the ocean and wait in what should have been a den of safety. Just like a damn rat sneaking into a storeroom. The Knight remained expressionless as he buckled the collar. Sébastien was tempted to let go of the spear since it wasn't like he could push away the other man. If he could get his left fist planted into the Knight's face, it'd bring a flash of satisfaction.

But he wasn't in control of the situation, and those in the room showed no remorse. A moment of satisfaction would bring more pain that would last longer. Sébastien might as well have been a bug to squash, and he remembered Remus's words about the night he'd been taken.

He'd become an order to be carried out.

The collar was locked into place. If Satan had any real powers, it'd be a good time to let them out and burn the contents of the room to ash.

Corentin stared at him as the bolt was pulled out. Sébastien kept his face blank at the initial pain and then at the disgust as the Knight touched his leg on either side to seal up the hole. It was particularly disgusting and painful when he had to ram his glowing fingers into each end to ensure Sébastien didn't still have a bleeding artery in his thigh.

Finished, the Knight drew back and wiped the blood from his hands on a cloth he pulled from his pocket.

"Even now, you're defiant," said Corentin.

"I tend to be defiant when people try to kill me multiple times."

"If you run for the door, Mal might decide to aim for your head. Do you really want a knife sticking out of your face?" Mal twirled the knife in her hands and shifted her positioning as Corentin continued. "When the spear is removed, don't be stupid."

It hurt exiting almost as much as entering. The guy wasn't quite as smooth, although it was hard to tell if he'd done it on purpose or simply didn't care. The initial job was done. Time to focus on the next. He set to cleaning the tip as if it had been sullied by the Prince's blood.

Sébastien was sure more of his strength left as the wound gushed hot blood. He braced a hand on the stones behind him and thought about the poker on the other side of the hearth. The Knight would stop him. The anger in his chest didn't trickle away.

"I wondered where you were last night," said Corentin. "It was luck that you took these rooms and made this quite easy. What are the chances our new passage would lead right here? You left your sword in the bedroom, so we knew it was you still staying in here. Since you came slinking back at dawn, I'm assuming you spent the night getting fucked by the enemy. I can't believe you freed him and helped him get his position back in exchange for your ass. Like a whore. Didn't you say something about not dipping your dick in werewolf fuckers? I guess it's okay if he dips his cock in you."

It would be a good time for Remus to come find him right then.

"Kneel," commanded Corentin. "Despite your treason, you still need to show respect in my presence."

Like fuck Sébastien would willingly kneel for him now. He kept his chin up and forced himself to remain steady. "This isn't court. Not your court anyway."

The Knight grabbed Sébastien's upper arm and yanked him so hard, he thought his good shoulder might pop out of the socket. When his knees hit the floor with a thump, the injured one protested. The Knight moved to stand behind him and grip both shoulders to keep him down.

More blood trickled out. They weren't going to let him bleed out. Not yet. He refused to lower his chin or eyes as Uncle frowned at him.

"So obstinate even when you're where you belong." Corentin laid his hand on his nephew's head. "I can't spare any more forgiveness. I couldn't even spare it for Quintus since he failed so miserably. I came to visit him, and he lost it all by lunch."

"I must say, that was a nice touch with the werewolves." Mal moved closer. "Made sneaking around below rather difficult. You sleep like a baby by the way. I could have slit your throat already."

Sébastien's stomach turned as he imagined her sneaking into his room the first night. She'd been close enough to kill him. They could have taken him then. But of course, they had to figure out where Quintus was and kill him. He was surely dead at that moment. Uncle hadn't rushed.

The Knight held him on his knees as the Regent turned to the others. "Hurry up."

The guy with the crossbow and the other with a frown went to the bookshelf in the corner and pulled it away from the paneled wall which looked normal. Whatever was on the floor, Sébastien couldn't quite make it out. One crouched and pressed on the baseboard. After a small click, a portion of the wall swung open.

Doubt whispered that Remus had put him in this room so he could be taken away with ease. No. If he'd been anywhere else, they'd have figured out which room to go to so they could wait or attack him in his sleep. They'd have simply tied him up, gagged him, and gotten him to this spot anyway.

Remus had been away for a while which meant Quintus had plenty of time to choose a good spot. Perhaps there was more than one new way in and out.

The Knight healed the back of Sébastien's wound which slowed the blood loss but did little for his mobility. Afterward, he wrapped a bandage around Sébastien's shoulder. That was the extent of his care before he was forced to his feet. He was tempted to yell again in the hopes that someone would hear even though the Knight threatened to make him pick his teeth up from the floor if he dared to utter a sound.

No one would hear. The servant who brought breakfast wouldn't even come for at least another thirty or so minutes. If not for Corentin and his damn lackeys, Sébastien would have been taking his time with a bath.

Unlike Remus's touch, the Knight's hand on the back of his neck disgusted him and set his nerves on edge. The threat of more was there as he was pushed ahead. The passage smelled stale, and the floor wasn't even. Digging a tunnel that goes through the walls, down, and wherever isn't a quick process even for several men working in shifts. After the job was done, Quintus might have had the builders killed.

It wasn't like they'd know now. Quintus was dead. Corentin hadn't bothered to forgive him for failing so horribly and being captured by the enemy.

The damn bastard hadn't said a word about Uncle visiting or lurking nearby. He'd been hoping for a rescue and for Remus to meet a swift end.

The Knight didn't let go of the back of Sébastien's neck once everyone was in the narrow space. A couple of crystal lanterns had been left on the floor, and he watched as they fixed everything. How clever. Someone had attached thin but sturdy leather straps to the underside of the bookshelf. Crossbow and Frown closed the panel and pulled on the leather that had been slid under the baseboard to inch the shelf closer to the wall once more. When someone entered, it wouldn't be out and acting like a sign as to where he'd been taken.

"Are you sure that's good?" asked Frown.

"Yeah. It's fine."

Crossbow told Spear to watch his weapon as they led the way. Spear said to shut up. Corentin followed. Frown and Mal stayed between him and his nephew. The Knight kept a hold of Sébastien's neck and forced him to walk. The tunnel went in a narrow spiral, taking them down each floor. If Sébastien's leg hadn't been healed, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to manage the steepness. Stone chips threatened to cut his feet, and he considered screaming at the top of his lungs. He doubted anyone would hear him through the stone.

Palaces are typically meant for living in finery and not defense. The defenses lay in the city walls and the terrain for Norraco. That didn't mean the Palace structure couldn't be sturdy. Thick walls, high ceilings, and marble flooring were marks of finery, and they also worked to keep the heat out so the inside would remain cooler.

The sides of the tunnel weren't even, and a few wooden supports had been added as a precaution. If the whole thing caved in, that'd be a terrible way to go, but at least Uncle would be crushed too.

Sébastien had bled so much by then that even if he'd been fully healed, he would have wanted to at least sit and rest, although lying down would be much better. Maxime back home would also be pushing him to drink water and eat doughy, sweet things for energy while his blood slowly replenished.

He almost slipped a couple of times since the way was steep. The Knight's grip grew painfully hard each time to keep him up. He thought about making an attempt to fight back. If he could grab one's weapon with his good arm, he might be able to make a kill.

The rest would be on him before he could get further than that. Whatever they had planned would grow much worse.

The tunnel finally made a sharp turn into a slightly wider one that was mostly flat and had a slight downward slope. More supports held up the ceiling. Sébastien imagined them passing under the wall around the ground, and the passage suddenly collapsing under the sheer weight.

They remained uncrushed. It was clear they'd spent time in the tunnel dealing with the lack of space and stale air. What a pity they hadn't run out of air and died like rats in a hole. The anger burned steadily with no way to vent it as Sébastien focused on Uncle's back.

Maybe Satan was weak to lirek too. Lirek did nothing to Asgardians or the Fallen, so perhaps Satan's fire was like that of a fairy even though he needed wrath to feed. He'd had years to leech from Sébastien, and that obviously wasn't enough now.

The passage went on for quite a while. There had been no mention of a tunnel in the letters Remus found, but who knew if Quintus had destroyed some or hidden them in a spot that even Remus wouldn't think of? Since the tunnel must end quite far from the Palace, Quintus could have gotten men started on digging in secret before his twin was taken away. With his twin and Lupo out of the way, he could have hired more workmen and ensured the project remained a secret when the digging took place within the wall.

Remus had said that Quintus wasn't stupid. He'd been rushed in the end with the Regent manipulating him and using his greed against him, and they'd underestimated him.