Chapter 30

Callum

Uther’s alive.

His pulse throbs slowly but surely as I crouch over him.

Thank the gods.

Tugging my pocket square free, I use it to staunch the blood coming from the deep gash in his shoulder. Thank god it wasn’t actually a head wound, just blood pooling all over from his shoulder.

At the contact, Uther’s eyes flutter and open. The second he sees me, he hastily sits up and shoves me off him, shouting. “The princess! What have you done?! Where is she?”

The man grabs the front of my shirt with his meaty palm, murder in his eyes.

I’m seething. “I’d ask the same of you, Uther Nancarrow!”

With unwarranted fury, the man shoves me backward and pins me down, the wooden threshold of the doorway digging into my backbone. “Stop with your bullshit and confess what you’ve done, and perhaps a judge will be lenient. If you don’t, I have the authority to extract the truth in any way possible.”

“I was trying to help you, you overgrown, glorified bouncer. You’re wounded, in case you haven’t noticed. And now you’re bleeding all over this fine suit that Sable made for me.

At the mention of one of Sable’s creations, his face softens for nearly half a second before he bares his teeth.

“So you choose torture. Very well.”

With one thick forearm spanning my upper torso from shoulder to shoulder, he unsheathes something with his free hand. A moment later, shining metal glints in the dim light of the stairway. A blade. Not just any blade, but a hunting knife that could gut me from stem to stern.

Because I’m stupid with rage, I push against his hold. “What do you think you’ll do with that, Nancarrow? Gut me like a fish?”

“Fortunately for you, I’ll leave you alive after I pry off one fingernail at a time. I’m sure you’ll cave after one or two, though.”

I haul one knee straight up toward his groin, but of course, the big man is expecting it and blocks me with his tree-trunk leg.

“How do I know it wasn’t you who did something to the princess?” I spit out.

“Do you see her anywhere? I’m sworn to protect her and the queen!”

“The perfect cover!”

Uther’s expression is so incredulous that I almost believe his innocence. “Why would I do that?”

He knows why.

Rather than answer verbally, I explode from under him, tossing him backward. He tumbles halfway down the stairs, raging at the pain in his wounded shoulder. I launch myself into the hallway and heave the door shut behind me.

Seconds later, the solid oak trembles under his pounding fists as I attempt and fail to secure the lock. Alas, I do not have a key, and I fear the only person who does is the high priestess, who waits, clueless, at the front of the chapel with a crown and scepter for a princess who isn’t coming.

“What in the actual hell is wrong with you?” Uther roars, pounding at the door. As he’s much bigger and stronger than I am, I’m barely holding him back now.

“Why would you do something with the princess? Because you’re obviously in love with her!” I cry.

The pounding ceases. I press my ear to the wood, listening.

On the other side of the door, he’s laughing.

Laughing.

“You’re an utter nincompoop, Callum Black.”