Chapter 54

Chapter

Fifty-Four

ALYX

I am furious. In fact, I am ready to murder someone, and if I won’t be allowed out of my rooms soon, then it will happen sooner rather than later. The large male currently leaning against the doorframe would make the perfect victim.

It has been days since I woke up. Days . Not to mention the fact I was sick for days before that. So much wasted time.

The rest of the palace knows I am unwell with an infection and that I became ill when the king was attacked, yet they have no idea how close I came to dying. Apparently, the attack was on such a large scale, there was no way of hiding it. Plus, there were witnesses when the king carried me back to my rooms, unconscious and bleeding.

Orion is currently my minder for the afternoon. He, Crux, and Joha have been taking turns spending time with me, but it has turned more into guard duty, making sure I do not leave the safety of my rooms.

“Will you stop pacing and sit down?”

It’s phrased as a question, but I hear the order in his voice—an order I am going to continue to ignore. I have done nothing but sit and lie down for over a week, and I need to be doing something.

“If you tell me to sit down one more time,” I grumble, my voice dark with my frustration as I grab the closest thing I pass, “then I will jab this candlestick holder so far up your ass, you’ll choke on it.”

He snorts and continues to watch me with a raised brow, clearly not worried about my threat in the slightest. “I see you’re in a good mood today,” he comments wryly.

Making a noise of frustration, I spin around and grit my teeth, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “Orion, I’m fine! I need to get out of here. I need to investigate who tried to kill us. The longer I stay in here, the harder it will be to find any evidence.”

As it is, there is probably hardly any left, which makes it all the more important that I get out there. Joha and I almost didn’t survive this attempt, and I need to do something to make sure this does not happen again. Why does no one understand that?

“Alyx, you almost died.” Orion strides over to me and grabs my shoulders, shaking gently until I look up at him. “This is serious,” he insists, concern flashing in his eyes.

That in itself is almost enough to get me to stop pushing—almost. It is not often that Orion lets himself feel any of the more vulnerable emotions. However, I will not be swayed.

“I understand that, but I’m not dying now!” My irritation finally breaks through, and I grip his shirt to make sure he’s paying attention to me. “Please, Orion, I need to do something to redeem myself!”

Oops. He’s certainly paying attention now. I didn’t mean to say that last part, and any hopes I might have of him missing the comment are quickly dashed as his gaze narrows on me.

“Redeem yourself for what?” He watches me carefully.

For a moment, I think about playing the I almost died card to get out of answering him, but I know that is a step in the wrong direction. I want him to trust that I know how far I can push my body and know what it can handle. Still in the frame of his arms, I glance away, unable to meet his eyes as I admit my faults.

“I’m supposed to protect Joha, and I got myself so badly injured that Crux had to terrorise the city to find someone who could heal me.”

When I first woke up, the three of them told me what happened and how a specialist healer was tracked down, hogtied, and brought to heal me. It was almost too much to believe, but I know Crux would do anything for me, and that was exactly his style.

I haven’t spoken to any of them about this, but I feel as though I failed Joha. Failure is not an option for me, not for any assassin, as it leads to death. My failure almost got Joha killed as well. I am not sure exactly when I started caring about him more than just protecting him for my job. If Joha died, I would be devastated.

“But you did protect him. He would be dead ten times over without you,” Orion scoffs and shakes his head, looking as though he can’t believe that I would even begin to think any of this is my fault.“You did nothing wrong, and he would tell you the exact same thing. You were poisoned and had an infection from the lake water,” he states matter-of-factly, like he’s expecting me to suddenly agree with him. When that doesn’t happen, his frown deepens.

Sighing, I close my eyes for a moment, exhausted by this conversation. He doesn’t get it. “I just need to do something useful,” I counter, finally opening my eyes to take in his concerned expression.

He’s silent for a moment, and from the look on his face, I am guessing he’s thinking hard about something. I’m about to make a joke about not hurting himself when he makes a strange grumbling sound in the back of his throat.

“If I take you somewhere, will you agree to rest for the next couple of days?” He sounds unsure, and I know it’s not because he’s doubting if I will agree or not. No, we are past that point, and he knows to trust my word now. I am guessing he is unsure about taking me to wherever he has planned. Is it dangerous? Excitement flickers through me, my heart racing.

“Does it have something to do with the attack?” I ask, shifting from foot to foot. To be honest, I would agree with him at this point just to get out of these bloody rooms.

“Yes.”

Before he even finishes speaking, I pull away and hurry over to my wardrobe, grabbing a cloak to throw over my simple blue day dress. Pulling on a pair of boots, I quickly do them up and return to my spot before him, a wide smile on my face.

“Lead the way.”

Sticking to the shadows, Orion leads me through the palace grounds, making sure not to attract notice. It would cause too many questions if anyone were to see me out in the middle of the night with Joha’s head guard.

We round a corner, pausing outside a familiar building—the cells. Of all the places, this is where he chose to bring me?

“You really need to work on your date locations,” I murmur wryly, following him inside the quiet building.

“This isn’t a date. This is your gift.” His reply is curt as he turns to me, his face softening for a moment as he reaches out and tugs the hood of my cloak up higher to conceal my face. His hands linger there, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheeks as our eyes meet and something passes between us. He steps back with a clearing of his throat. My body is too hot, my cheeks blushing from that one innocent touch. “Stay here,” Orion mutters before striding forward and greeting the two guards blocking the entrance to the row of cells.

Hope and excitement flip in my stomach, taming the sharp tug of desire. If we’re going into the cells, then I can only assume they captured someone who can give me answers. I try to contain those thoughts, though, because I doubt that is possible. I killed all of the assassins at the lake house.

Silent, I wait for Orion to finish talking to the two guards. They glance over his shoulder as he speaks, trying to get a look at me, so I make sure to angle my head down a little, making it next to impossible for them to identify me. I can’t hear what they say, but after a few moments, Orion beckons me forward.

Not waiting for me to close the distance, he moves past the guards and works his way down the row of cells. Most of them are empty, just a few drunk males fast asleep in their own piss. At the bottom, sequestered away from the others, is a skinny male.

Orion stops by the cell and opens the door, gesturing for me to enter. As soon as I step inside, the ominous clang of the metal lock sliding into place behind me causes a chill to run down my spine. When I glance over my shoulder, my surprise must show on what little of my face is showing because Orion winces.

“I have to speak with the guards.” He rubs his hand across his shaved head, his voice gruff as he stands outside the cell he just locked me in. “You’re free to do what you need to. I’ll be just outside.”

Realisation hits me as I watch him walk away. He isn’t staying with me because he’s giving me free rein to do what I need to with the prisoner. His morals won’t allow him to just watch if I have to get a little more . . . persuasive. Who is this skinny male, and why was I brought here?

“So you’re alive.”

The thick, accented voice causes my back to stiffen, and I turn to face the prisoner. His face is no longer covered, his features unremarkable, yet thanks to his voice, I know exactly who he is. He’s one of the assassins from the attack, perhaps from the roof? He’s thin and looks pale, yet he’s on his feet and crouched in a defensive position. His ankle is chained to a ring embedded into the concrete walls, and there’s a look in his eye that I recognise from spending most of my adolescence growing up in the Lowers—hunger. He looks as though he’s not eaten a full meal in weeks. Perhaps he hasn’t. It would not surprise me to discover they are starving him. He did try to kill their king after all.

Pursing my lips, I make an exaggerated appraisal of him then change my expression to make it clear that I’m not impressed by what I see. “I could say the same for you.”

As far as I was aware, all of the assassins were killed. It seems we missed one.

He laughs, the sound quickly turning to a hacking cough. “I am the last. You killed my comrades.”

“Shame that I missed one. My skills must be slipping.” Glancing down at my fingers, I examine my nails as though this is all a colossal waste of my time. Sighing dramatically, I look back up at him. “Never mind, I’m sure we can fix that.” I tilt my head to one side. “Or we could have a little talk, assassin to assassin.”

During this time, the assassin’s smirk dropped and was replaced by a glare that tells me this is not going to be an easy interrogation.

“I’m telling you nothing.” He spits at me, and I watch it as it lands at my feet.

Glancing at the disgusting glob of spittle just inches from my boots, I slowly lift my gaze back to his with a raised brow. “I think you’ll find I’m a very patient woman.”

Pushing up my sleeves, I stalk over to him. To be fair, he does not move back to put more distance between us or try to get away. He simply grits his teeth and stands firm.

Smiling at him, I cross my arms over my chest. “Tell me who ordered the attack.”

“Fuck you,” he hisses, snarling at me with such force that his spittle lands on my face.

Without giving him time to prepare for it, I slam my knee up and into his solar plexus, nodding to myself as he curls up in pain. I had been expecting this sort of reaction, so I’m not irritated that he won’t tell me. We still have time.

“Tell me who ordered the attack,” I repeat, my order firm and promising pain if he denies me.

“Fuck you,” he repeats, mocking me.

Sighing, I shift my weight and twist my torso, swinging my leg up and around to slam my foot into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. He attempts to get up, pressing his hands to his head as he waits for the world to stop spinning.

I do not wait for that. Instead, I repeat my question, expecting the same reaction.

This goes on and on until it reaches the point where he is barely recognisable, his face swollen and bruised. It is getting more difficult for me to keep him conscious, and he is useless to me unconscious. I’m usually more patient than this, but I’m exhausted after having been so unwell—not that I will admit that to anyone. Also, I have no idea how much time I have before someone comes into the cell. Orion will give me some warning, but it could be at any time. The guards didn’t want to let me down here in the first place, so I have to be quick before they come to investigate.

It’s time to turn it up a notch.

Moving back from his battered form, I lean against the bars and watch him with a reluctant smile, raising my bruised fists in a show of what is to come. “Okay, my friend, tell me something,” I suggest. “Anything about the attack, or I will be forced to continue.”

“I’ll tell you nothing.” His words are slurred, but I can still hear his hatred for me.

Reaching for the secret pocket in my dress, I remove the small wallet I slipped in earlier and open it up to reveal sewing needles. I raise them so they glint in the light. “I’m sure you know this, but during interrogations, sometimes a small, sharp object is pushed under the fingernail of the prisoner. That’s you in this case.” I smile and shrug. “I happen to have several needles.”

When I kneel in front of him, he attempts to shuffle back, fear finally flashing in his eyes. He knows this is going to be excruciating, and his body has had enough.

“I know Queen Mother ordered the hit. Just admit it,” I coax, only my voice is tighter than it was before, taking away the facade that I am calm and collected.

“No,” he snarls, and I know I am not going to get anything out of him like this.

I grab his hand, and we play a brief game of tug-of-war as he desperately tries to pull it back. I am stronger, though, and he is injured. Pinning his hand down on the dirty cell floor, I remove one of the needles, turning it around so he can see it. It’s such a tiny object that is about to cause so much pain.

Just as I am moving to put the needle in his finger, he darts forward far faster than I thought he was capable of. He uses his free hand to grab the dagger strapped to my thigh, accessed through a slit in my pocket.

He must have spotted it earlier when I removed my sewing purse, the slit at the perfect angle for him to reach in and grab it. Cursing, I jump back, ready to defend myself, only he turns it on himself, slashing the blade across his neck.

A wave of blood bursts from the wound. Cursing, I step back, trying to avoid getting any of it on my dress, but unfortunately, it’s too late. His body wobbles and then falls back as he dies in a puddle of his own blood.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was the last lead we had, and now he’s dead. I understand why he took his own life—no assassin worth his name would have given up the information. If only it was not so inconvenient for me. With a sigh, I press a hand to my forehead, realising that I probably seem selfish, but I do not regret it because the assassin was a risk to Joha, and I would do almost anything to keep him safe.

Orion strides down the corridor of bars, obviously drawn in by the noise. “What happened? Are you—ah fuck,” he grumbles as he takes in the dead body at my feet.

Those were my exact same thoughts.

He stares at the unmoving figure and the pool of blood before turning to me. I’m expecting a scowl, since he probably thinks I killed the male, but I’m surprised to see concern for me in his expression.

“Shit.” Blowing out a long breath, he nods to himself as he comes up with a plan. “Okay, we need to get you cleaned up and out of here before someone sees you.”

He’s right. If someone were to see me walking around covered in blood and then discover that one of the prisoners is dead, it would cause Joha and me problems.

With alarming speed, Orion manages to find me some simple but clean clothes and hurriedly escorts me back to the queen’s palace. Thankfully, there is an exit at the back of the cell block, and that means we can leave without the guards seeing me in my bloodied state. Once we are back in my rooms and he checks I’m okay, he makes sure I’m not going anywhere then returns to the cells to clean up.

The assassin killed himself, and the position he died in will be evidence enough for that. Orion already told me he’s going to say the knife was his and the prisoner grabbed it through the bars after I already left. I don’t like it, but I admit it will be easier for him to talk himself out of it if anyone starts to question anything.

Exhausted, I move through my bedroom like a zombie, crawling back into bed and cursing my body for making me weak. While I feel a little stronger every day, I guess I’m still not back to full strength, and I pushed myself too far tonight.

I’m asleep within minutes, still sitting upright, the lights left on. My dreams that night are filled with the smug expression of the assassin as he slit his throat, taking his knowledge to the grave.