Chapter 37

37

Ella

My stomach plummeted. I shifted back to my vantage behind the woody bush, hoping its fragrant white flowers would conceal my scent. I knew I shouldn't risk looking, but I had to see.

Cassius strode briskly down the colonnade and stepped out into the garden. He grimaced as the sunlight cut across him, but then the expression was gone, replaced by unyielding iron. The prince stopped on the bottom step of the dais, waiting. His expression was stoic, but the severe line of his mouth made it clear he despised all three of the people on the dais. There was something aloof and rigid about his stance that reminded me of how he regarded Bianca and Lorayna. He never betrayed his hate, but it was there just the same, simmering inside.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Thalindra said luxuriously.

Cassius stared her down for a second, then bent slightly forward in acknowledgement. "Triad."

My breath stilled. It hadn't been much, but his slight bow had signaled deference. Who on earth would expect the Prince of the Bloodvale to bow to them? I pushed the branches down, trying to get a better view.

The woman motioned him forward. "Do join us."

Cassius grudgingly ascended the dais but didn't sit.

The man with the bejeweled rings leaned back and gave the prince an appraising look. "Rumor has it you've ridden out hunting every day for the past week. Finding yourself bored with your position?"

Cassius glared at him. "The woods are more restless than I've ever seen them. I've had three kills this week."

Thalindra dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. "I wish you'd send Aamon and a party of outriders if you don't think he's up to it alone. I don't like you risking yourself needlessly."

Cassius's hand flexed, and he clasped it behind his back. "It's not needless. It's my duty to this kingdom, and Aamon doesn't know the woods like I do."

"Not many heads hanging on your wall," Horace chuckled.

The prince sneered openly at the black-robed man, his face contorted with disgust. "I don't take trophies. Unlike you."

A cruel shadow crossed Horace's face. "I like to remember the things I've enjoyed."

The woman pursed her lips. "I wonder if all this hunting is simply to avoid your other duty—choosing a bride."

"That will be done soon enough," Cassius said.

Her mouth curled up in a self-satisfied smile. "We'll attend the masquerade ball, of course. We all eagerly await your decision."

The other man, whose name I hadn't learned, leaned forward. Dressed in shades of green, he was tall and thin, with hawklike features. "You understand why we are so concerned, do you not? Your grandfather was merciless, but your bloodline has grown weak. Your brother was not strong enough to bear the burden of rule, and we have our doubts about you."

"I doubt you have fond memories of my grandfather," Cassius said flatly. "Few humans would."

My breath stilled. They were humans, as I expected—but how could mere humans hold power over an immortal?

More problematically, how could they have known the prince's grandfather? He'd been dead hundreds of years. They couldn't have lived that long—they didn't look a day over fifty.

The man in green robes drummed his fingers in agitation on the arm of his chair. "The point is, you need to pick a strong queen so that your heir will be strong. Choose someone with an ancient bloodline, and we will be very much appeased."

The prince bared his fangs and took a step forward. "The choice is mine, is it not? Or have you already decided that as well?"

Thalindra stood and raised her hands. "Let's not fight. We all want the same thing—what's best for the kingdom."

Cassius released a bitter laugh as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Don't pretend you care about this kingdom. All you want is my blood, so take it. Let's get this done with so I can end my day in peace."

His blood?

A deep, unsettling dread welled inside of me, curdling my stomach.

"Look what you've done, Malthus," Thalindra said, giving the man a dirty look. "You've upset our prince."

She twisted her hand in the air, and light began streaming from her fingers. The prickling sensation of magic danced over my skin, and then my breath caught as she shaped the dancing lights into a golden chalice and set it on the table.

It was magic.

The truth dawned. They were the mages I'd heard about in the rumors. They had to be the ones who'd created the floating fountains and lights and hidden the secret garden and its tower.

They weren't prisoners. They were in charge .

Before the full implications could sink in, Cassius slipped a long knife from the sheath at his side. He extended his arm and drew the blade across it. Crimson welled up, and I had to stop myself from crying out in surprise. I watched, stunned, as he let the blood run down his arm and drip into the goblet. My guts churned violently, but I couldn't look away. The three mages, on the other hand, observed passively, as if they'd witnessed it happen a hundred times. Horace's face was the only one I saw fully, but there was an eager hunger in his eyes.

The mages were going to drink the prince's blood. An immortal's blood.

The cawing of crows tore me out of my stunned reverie. I whipped my head around. A servant with a silver tray was coming through the same door Cassius had used.

My stomach knotted. I was hidden from the pavilion but in clear view from the colonnade.

I dropped and scrambled out of sight behind the low wall of the colonnade, but my foot scuffed against a loose stone.

"Is someone else in the garden?" Cassius asked.

Damn the bloodsuckers and their keen hearing. My chest was tight and pulse thundering. Would the prince be able to hear it?

Someone sniffed like a hunting hound.

No, no. no.

"What is it, Cassius?" Thalindra asked.

"It's…" The prince abruptly paused. "Never mind. It's nothing."

His tone had changed. His voice had lowered and sounded almost strangled.

The footsteps approached down the corridor, and I scrunched myself as close to the base of the wall as possible. It was a terrible hiding place. If they didn't turn away, they'd spot me in a matter of seconds.

"I don't like this," Horace said. "Something isn't right."

There was the sound of a chair scraping back, then two sets of footsteps coming down the dais.

With a flutter of wings, the crow that had raised the alarm alighted on the wall right above me and cocked its head. I pleaded at it with my eyes. Please help.

Footsteps closed in on my position from both sides.

The crow squawked and burst into the air, and a second later, something metal clattered to the ground.

"The chalice!" Thalindra screamed. "There is blood everywhere! My dress is fucking ruined! Someone, bring me a towel!"

The footsteps in the garden stopped suddenly, but the ones in the corridor sped up. They'd be on me in a second. With any luck, the mages were distracted by the spilled blood. This was my chance.

With no time to think, I darted forward into the colonnade, upending the servant with the tray. He cried out and collapsed against the wall, sending the silver platter and its contents clattering across the ground. I raced toward the far door. Pandemonium broke loose in the garden, and the door at the end of the hall burst open.

Two guards appeared. I slowed half a step, but there was a flurry of black wings as my sentries dove beneath the roof of the colonnade and attacked. The soldiers shouted as they threw up their arms to protect their eyes from the assault of beaks and claws.

I was on them in two strides. I shoved one guard into the other then darted through the closing door as they collapsed to the ground behind me.

I charged down the halls of the castle as fast as I could run. I recognized them from my brief time in the royal wing, though I'd had no idea where they led. I just had to get to one of the servants' passages. I was nearly to the end of the hall when the door behind me burst open. I glanced back as the prince and a cadre of soldiers charged through.

Despair crashed over me. I'd never outrun him.

I darted right into a long corridor lined with doors. I chose the third on the left and burst into a large sitting room. I was alone—but that was where my luck stopped. The stained glass windows wouldn't open, and there weren't any other exits, not even a servants' door. A pair of chairs with carved backs flanked an enormous hearth with a broad stone mantel. I could have squeezed beneath one of them, but I'd still be exposed.

That left me with one insanely desperate option.

I stepped into the wide hearth and looked up into the flue. I could just make out the blackened iron rungs set into the stone, installed so chimneysweeps could climb up and dislodge caked soot.

Voices shouted in the hall, and the sound of the doors slamming open reverberated through the wall. They'd be here any second.

I reached up and seized the first rung, then heaved myself into the cramped flue. While I wasn't an eight-year-old boy, I was slightly built and just able to wedge my shoulders inside. Soot burned my lungs, and I clenched my chest to keep from coughing. Hand over hand, I pulled myself up another set of rungs.

The door flung open. I wrenched my legs up, praying that my feet weren't dangling out.

"I thought I saw them go in here," a male said. Heavy boots rang against the floor as the men searched the room. Holding my breath, I pressed myself against the wall as hard as I could to keep still. My heart hammered so loudly against my chest, I had no doubt the prince would be able to hear it. Hell, maybe even the human guards could.

I was a dead girl.

A set of footsteps paused just below me. I tightened my sweaty hands on the rung. If they were going to take me, they'd have to haul me out kicking and screaming.

But the grasping hands didn't come.

"There's no one here," the prince said.

I nearly choked in fright. He had to be less than two feet from me, standing right in front of the hearth.

Fates. Don't cough now.

"I'll check the rest of the rooms in this hall," the prince said. "You four, run and search the corridors ahead. Recruit any guards you find to help and send a runner to the captain. I want this castle turned upside down. We can't let the spy get away. A pouch of gold to whoever finds him ."

"Yes, Your Highness," a man said, and the footsteps fled out into the hall.

Had the prince gone with them? The door clicked shut, but I didn't move a muscle. I didn't dare breathe. Soot stung my eyes and burned my lungs, but I bit my tongue and held on for dear life.

I waited a minute. Then two. My heartbeat began to slow. Did I really get away with it?

I released a slow breath.

"You can come out now, Ella," the prince said, sending my heart flying into my throat. "They're gone."