Forbidden (Chapter Three)

 

That night I dreamed again of the striking boy with the magnetic blue eyes.

He would appear, I would feel mystified as to where I was, he would caress my face and lighten my heart in his unusual but relaxing embrace, and then he would gently press his lips to my forehead and tell me of his departure and evaporate into thin air. And then I’d anxiously search for him, but find only the single black rose in his place. It was as though all that had really happened; I could almost imagine the softness of his touch. That emptiness and desolation filled me on the inside as I searched for him but found nothing, and I wandered around the forest. That was probably the only difference to this dream: that I was roaming around feeling awfully drab.

But I woke again, out of breath, my forehead dampened with sweat, but it wasn’t because the dream had ended, but because I heard something outside.

I sat up, chest heaving slightly as I breathed jaggedly, and listened to the sounds outside the window. After countless seconds of straining my ears to catch the noise down below, I threw my bed sheets aside and strode to the open window, where a light cool breeze was floating in through. Glancing down below and squinting through the darkness, I saw the dark green leather backs of the thickset guards, all struggling to control a thrashing victim. I could hear their shouts to one another, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was a loud thump that echoed up to where I was, and I stared in fright as the shape slackened. Two other guards were carrying a smaller shape that looked like the body of a younger boy, but it seemed he had been knocked out cold as well.

I stood there for half a second before making up my mind and turning from the window towards my door. I threw it open and dashed down the hall, down the stairs, in the direction of the front doors. I was hardly aware that I wore only my thin satin nightdress, which had very thin straps and exposed quite a bit of skin. But that was far from my mind.

I threw the doors open to find several others already standing there, most of them in their nightgowns, staring worriedly as the guards brought the two inert shapes forward. I spotted Lydia as I rushed past her. She wore a thin white nightgown similar to mine but in a dazzling shade of red, her soft blond hair pulled into a long braid, and she was biting the nail of her pinky finger nervously.

“Scarlett!” she shouted when I went by her.

I ignored her and continued to the guards, who were moving closer as I advanced.

“What happened?” I asked them firmly, trying to look over their shoulders at the intruders they were carrying.

“Nothing to worry about, Princess,” one guard assured me. “Just some nasty trespassers. Off to bed.”

I scowled, annoyed that they were telling me what to do. “Who are they?” I asked, jumping up to steal a glance over their broad backs.

“Scarlett, come here!”

A cold hand gripped my arm, and I jerked away from Lydia’s touch, angry now.

“Will you wait a second?” I shouted.

They didn’t stop moving towards the castle.

I let out a sigh of irritation, anger bubbling inside me like boiling water, and continued to follow them, placing a hand on a guard’s shoulder and jerking him backward—

He cursed loudly and let out a cry of agony.

I withdrew my hand immediately, my anger changing rapidly to alarm.

“What is it, Tim?” a guard with cropped blond hair asked, dropping the trespasser to the ground to check what had happened.

Tim fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder where my hand had come in contact with it, and I saw with a shock that there were black marks that very well matched the shape of my hand. I stared in surprise as Tim let out another howl of pain; more guards were coming to check what had happened.

“It burns!” he choked out, his neck strained. “She burned me!”

Several people glanced my way, but I avoided their gazes, and glanced at the body they’d dropped on the ground.

My mouth fell open.

I stared uncomprehending at the person on the ground, perfectly still as a wave of incredulity swept over me, feeling as though I’d witnessed a blow to the stomach; my head was spinning and my breathing was quickening along with my heart, my hands were shaking and my legs were buckling.

Meanwhile, people around me were going to have a look at Tim, whose pain seemed to double while I gaped wordlessly at the boy on the ground.

Because I recognized that inky black hair, those refined, handsome features and that lithe, muscular physique, that sharp jaw and those high cheekbones, that tanned shade of caramel of his skin and the sensual shape of his lips, the peaceful look planted on his face, because he was deep in sleep, though I’d never seen him asleep... There was blood smeared on his chin issuing from a cut on his bottom lip, and a gash across his jaw... His eyes were shut, but I was sure if they were opened I’d be greeted with a pair of striking dark blue eyes...

“Scarlett, what did you do?” Lydia screeched from behind me, but I was rooted to the spot, staring at the beautiful unconscious boy lying on the ground.

I felt a cold hand shake my shoulder. “Come on!” she shouted. “What are you looking at?”

She fell silent when she spotted the boy on the ground. He looked around eighteen, maybe a little older.

“That’s him?” she asked quietly, and then pulled me backwards. “Get away, he could wake up at any moment!”

I didn’t respond or give her any sign that I was still breathing, because I wasn’t.

“Scarlett, what is it?”

I continued to stare.

“Scarlett!” she yelled agitatedly.

I blinked rapidly and looked away from the stranger’s face and at Lydia, who was watching me vigilantly.

“What are you doing?”

I shook my head, thumping myself on the forehead with the heel of my hand to clear my head. “No—nothing, nothing... I just—never mind.”

I quickly turned and sprinted past the guards, who were still fussing over Tim, who seemed to be in severe pain now. I didn’t have time to feel guilty for what I’d done—my mind was miles away as I hurried past everyone, through the tall, thick doors of the castle, up the many staircases and down the long, dark, and empty corridors.

I slammed my door shut behind me once I was back in my room, and allowed myself a deep breath. I shut my eyes and slid the length of the door until I was sitting on the ground, and ran a hand repeatedly through my hair in endless anxiety.

My head was reeling, I couldn’t grasp reality for quite a while, I could only focus on the floor of my bedroom, or on the moon casting its silvery white glow above my furniture, and try not to think. I forced everything from my mind, because it was too much to think about, and if I thought about any of it my head would burst.

So I stood and climbed into my bed again, pulled the covers tightly over me, shut my eyes firmly, and willed myself to sleep.

 

*   *   *

“Did you hear of the break-in?”

“Oh yes. Two of them.”

        “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Elisa and a good friend of hers spared a glance in my direction, their acidic stares boring into my back. My face reddened and my jaw clenched in fury, my knuckles white as my hand tightened over the cover of my book.

“Ignore them,” Stephan murmured in a low voice, just as Mrs. Wright sidled into the room with a thick leather-bound book in her hands.

“Settle down, everyone,” she called, and everyone—including Elisa and her sneering friend—fell silent immediately. I loosened my grip on the cover of my book and was surprised to see the pages were singed where my fingers had touched them. Quickly flipping to another page so Stephan wouldn’t notice, I shoved my hand in my pocket.

Though everyone knew of the radical measures Mrs. Wright took when someone spoke at the same time as she did, I could hear mumbles and whispers of conversation going on behind my back; everyone seemed oblivious to Mrs. Wright’s cranky mood today.

I had already told Stephan what had happened last night, though I’d purposely left out the part when I recognized the boy on the ground, because I felt it would lead to telling him about the dreams, which would be embarrassing to do. All the gossip was driving me mad. Elisa was the one to start it, of course, loving any reason to think poorly of Princess Scarlett.  All day I’d had to deal with the venomous glares of my colleagues, their hushed discussions going on surreptitiously, and even some of the teacher’s were giving me looks of fear or incomprehension.

I hadn’t heard how the guard, Tim, was. Now that I was conscious and had gotten over the shock of seeing the boy in my dream, it seemed to hit me: I had injured someone. I hadn’t done it intentionally—I didn’t even know how, or if I’d done it—but it brought a great deal of concern to me to add over everything else.

I was sullen during Mrs. Wright’s lesson, not really paying attention, and rather than doodling, I busied myself with staring at the dilapidated cover of my textbook. Luckily, seeing to how half the school was already doing it, Mrs. Wright didn’t bother having me demonstrate my lack of intelligence upon the class today.

So when the bell rang I repeated my tedious routine and picked up my things, stalking off out of the classroom before I caught the words of anyone’s conversation. Stephan bustled along behind me a couple seconds later, joining me in the hall.

“I hear they won’t talk,” he said in a low voice, as a pair of young girls tottering by glanced at me and looked away, exploding into muted whispers.

“Who?” I asked, wondering if he was talking about Elisa and her friend. 

“The trespassers. There were two, right?”

“Yes.” I recalled seeing the smaller shape that could only be a young boy, but I’d been so distracted by the other I hadn’t even glanced at him.

“Well, they tried questioning them—the guards, I mean—and they won’t talk. They’ve been trying to get them to state their reason for breaking in all morning.”

“Where are they?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

“The dungeon.”

I expected this, but felt suddenly pitiful for the two intruders. “And... are they taking... physical measures?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.

 Stephan hesitated along with me at the door of our next class, looking troubled. He glanced away at the approaching crowd to evade my watch.

“On orders.”

“On orders?” I shouted, calling the attention of two students who were passing. I was suddenly furious; I kept my hands at my side, afraid I would burn something if I touched it.

Stephan nodded once. “Well—be rational, Scarlett, they won’t speak or say why they’re here, and your father guesses they wanted you, like most of them do, and they’re searching for their Mark but can’t find it anywhere.”

I shook my head irately. “I can’t believe him...”

Stephan turned on the spot to look warily down at me. “Scarlett, they’re trespassers. They were probably trying to hurt you—or kidnap you—and you think your father’s being harsh?”

I stared at him, wishing a good retort would come to mind, but none did, so I turned and headed inside the Astronomy classroom, where Mr. Billows was writing our assignment on the board as the class filed in. I took my seat and my mind wandered as I read the page it said on the board. I was so angry I was considering thinking about visiting my father this afternoon... maybe going to see the intruders... If that boy was anyone remotely close to the person he’d been in my dream, there would be no reason to take physical action against him. If he was that boy in my dream, he was tender, sweet and caring, and probably would have a moral reason for breaking in. Maybe he needed help... or he was lost... maybe he’s foreign...

I considered the possibilities during Astronomy and the rest of my classes; not one lesson would hold my attention for more than five minutes. Luckily Alec wasn’t in class today. I didn’t know why and I could care less. After the long and dreary day, it was time for Archery once more.

Today I was very agitated, which probably showed in my expression. Kirk seemed more nervous than usual, which was saying something. I managed to set the arrow on fire, and at another snide remark from Elisa, who stood behind me watching in amusement, the flaming arrow shot like a bullet across the field and whizzed past her ear. Elisa let out a shriek and accused me immediately of target her in particular—I wasn’t in the mood to deny it—and was rewarded with another detention from Kirk. However, the class was delighted to hear they wouldn’t have to repeat this lesson anymore, because I would be receiving my private lesson again.

Once the school day was over with I felt strangely tense, and kept putting off heading back to the castle, whether to check I hadn’t left anything in the classrooms or to visit some of my old professors. At one point Stephan got annoyed and told me to quit acting cowardly, and when he said that I started towards the castle as he headed back towards his dormitory, wanting to contradict his judgment.

Once at the front golden gates of the lofting castle, I found it somewhat awkward to pass the guards at the front. They didn’t greet me as I passed, while I pretended not to notice them. I hurried into the castle and strolled through the endless corridors towards the library, where I had decided to start on my homework.

But my mind was elsewhere, and I found it impossible to concentrate when so much was on my mind. I needed someone to talk to. I needed someone I could confide in about all that had happened—about the sudden change in my abilities, about Ava’s bizarre prediction, about the dreams and the boy who was being held prisoner.

After nearly twenty minutes of attempting to figure out who the hell Andreas Karahalios was while working on my homework, I had the urge to go speak to my father.

My heart thudded dramatically in my chest as I moved towards his office, and I held my breath as I rapped twice on the thick wooden door.

“Come in.”

I turned the brass doorknob and pushed the door open to reveal the large elliptical-shaped office of my King Lysander. The place was elaborate and decorative, very expensive-looking, with high shelves full of books lining the walls, a large window that let in a flood of golden sunlight, a polished wooden desk sitting in front of it. My father sat in the large comfortable chair behind the desk, reading what looked like an old newspaper. He hastily stuffed it into a drawer when he saw it was me and removed his glasses, eyeing me skeptically.

“Scarlett?” he asked uncertainly. “Is something wrong?”

I bit my lip, deliberating, and then finally settled into the chair across his desk, staring desolately at my feet and forcing back tears. My father waited silently, and I could feel his heavy gaze over me.

“You know... the psychic? In the village?” I asked slowly, looking up at him.

He nodded once, an amused expression crossing his face. “Ava?”

“Yes.”

“What about her?”

“I went to her the other day... Because I was curious.” I shrugged; my voice remained dull as I spoke. “And she made a prediction about me.”

He chuckled. “What was it?”

“Something... evil. About darkness. She kept saying... unusual things.”

My father was now watching me avidly, all the humor wiped from his face, replaced by a grim expression. He set his glasses on his desk and stood; I watched him as he turned to gaze out the window. I couldn’t see his face, but his voice was calm.

“Ava’s prediction’s are almost continually imprecise, Scarlett,” he said quietly, but his voice was full of some other emotion I didn’t recognize.

“Well—I know, but it worries me. It looked... real.” My voice cracked near the end. I watched my father’s tall, hefty figure, wishing I could see his expression or hear what he was thinking; his silence puzzled me.

I heard him take a deep breath and clear his throat. “Scarlett, please put this from your mind. Ava is very faulty in her calculations.”

“But—”

“Scarlett, just forget it.” I could hear an undertone to his voice that sounded like he was begging, pleading me to obey, which was very atypical.

“Okay,” I whispered, standing.

“Is that all?” he asked after some couple minutes.

“No,” I said, remembering last night. “Is the guard okay?”

“The one that claims you burned him?”

“Yes.”

“He’s getting better. Most of the others are worried it might’ve been the intruder who cursed him.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” I said bleakly.

“And what have you heard?” His voice was still calm; he was still gazing solemnly out the window.

“Everyone thinks I did it.”

“And did you?”

“I...” I swallowed. “I don’t know. B-but if I did, it wasn’t intentional.”

“I understand that, dear.”

I took another calming breath. “And someone told me you’re... punishing, the trespassers.”

He nodded vaguely. “They won’t speak.”

“But... isn’t that going a little too far?”

My father turned from the window; he looked unruffled. “Scarlett, their intention could be to harm you. I want to find out why they’re here, and if I don’t, then they will be executed.”

My jaw slackened; I stared at my father in disbelief. “But—but—” I couldn’t think of what to say; the words seemed to be wedged in my throat.

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on these people, Scarlett. They could want to kill you.”

“But we don’t know that for sure!” I pleaded.

“I can’t keep them prisoner much longer; the boy is rousing the guards.”

This was the first mention of him my father had given. My eyebrows drew together in confusion, in wonder, but I was still begging.

“Just—don’t kill them yet.”

Something glittered behind my father’s gray eyes. “And why not?”

“Because—I think I know him.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

“What?”

I peeked up at him to see he looked baffled. “I think... I’ve been having strange dreams, and I saw him...”

His expression was frozen in shock; but then he cleared his throat and composed his face. “Well—there’s still time. We’re not sure what we’ll do yet.”

“We?”

“Your mother and I. She is queen, unless you’ve forgotten.”

“Right,” I whispered, but then suddenly looked up. “Wait—Lydia and I reign as well, don’t we have a say?”

“Your sister is as disgusted by these intruders as much as I am,” my father said roughly, sitting back down in his large comfy chair. “You’d be overruled.”

“But Mother doesn’t want them to die either, does she?”

“If they prove themselves to be a threat, I am quite sure she will.” He pulled a large book out of a drawer.

We were silent for a moment as I took all of this in, while my father distractedly flipped through the pages of his book. I watched the sunlight glitter onto the glossy surface of the desk. He broke the silence.

“Do you see why I want you out of the forest, Scarlett?”

I looked at him mutely.

“Do you now see the dangers those woods posses? The night you had visited the forest is when an intruder broke in.”

“But why are they after me?” I asked quietly. “Why not you? Or Lydia? Or Mother?”

He hesitated, glancing down at his book and drawing in a long breath before answering.

“We’re not sure,” he said, looking away at nothing in particular. After a few long seconds of prickly silence my father straightened, drilling his fierce gray eyes into mine.

“I ask you, Scarlett, not to go back there for a while. There could be more of them, and we can’t have your life at risk.”

I nodded, still deep in thought.

“You understand you can’t go back there—at least not for a while? Do you swear not to casually disappear? You realize how serious this is?” His tone was grave; his eyes were deadly serious.

I nodded again, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

“Alright then,” he said, relaxing into his chair. “Take precautions. That’s all I can say for now.”

“Okay,” I said softly, turning towards the door.

I exited my father’s office with a lot to think about, but instead of heading back to the library where all my schoolbooks were, I moved towards my room. I found a quill and scribbled out a quick letter to Emril:

Emril, I’m very sorry, but I can’t make it this week over to help you repair your house. I’m very, very sorry, but there was just a break-in at the castle and my father’s keeping a very tight watch over me, and I can’t make it over unnoticed. I hope to see you soon,

      Scarlett.

I found a gray-black carrier quail lurking around my window, and attached the letter to its leg, telling it where to go and quickly feeding it before watching it set off into the yellow daylight. I returned to the library and found Stephan sitting in my chair, reading my History report, his expression bemused.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down in an armchair across from him.

He sat up and grinned. “Andreas Karahalios was a dragon-tamer, not a shoemaker,” he informed me with a chuckle, handing over my paper.

“Oh,” I said distantly, shrugging. “Never paid much attention in Mrs. Wright’s classes, you know that.”

“Where were you?” he asked casually, reaching over for his own bag.

“I went to see my father,” I said quietly, and in a low voice that couldn’t carry very far I told him what my father had said, inadvertently telling him about my dreams.

“What dream?” he asked, brows creasing.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before—I just thought it wasn’t very important. One of the boys they caught—I’ve seen him in a dream before.”

Stephan’s expression changed to pensive, the look he got when he was trying to figure out a very difficult problem.

“That’s strange... Maybe you—you know, saw the future or something?”

“No, I don’t think that was it,” I said, shaking my head. “The scene was totally different,” I murmured quietly, looking down at my lap.

“So the guard’s okay?”

“He’s at the infirmary,” I responded flatly.

“It was probably that, Scarlett, don’t worry yourself, the boy was probably cursed.”

I shrugged, lying back in my chair and staring up at the high ceiling.

“They might kill them,” Stephan recalled quietly, and I winced at the words. “What’re you going to do?”

I sighed. “I have no idea. I don’t know who he is, but I feel that I know him...”

“Why don’t you go visit them?”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“You think the guards will let me?”

He barked a laugh that made a nearby dweller glance surreptitiously at him. “Scarlett, you’re a princess; I think they’ll follow orders given from you.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure.”

“Maybe I’ll go tomorrow, then,” I mumbled. “I’m exhausted right now. They wouldn’t kill them overnight... Would they?”

“Nah, they’d probably tell you about it,” Stephan said indistinctly, his face set.

“Tomorrow, then,” I repeated, and a tension settled in my stomach. I was going to meet the boy I’d seen in my dream... How much would the two differ? Could it possibly be the same person, or was I just that gullible?

 

*   *   *

“Jack,” Damon croaked from beside me, “I’m hungry.”

I sighed; my breath seemed to scratch the inside of my throat. I was just as hungry as my younger brother, but I would not ask for food at a place like this, because that would mean showing weakness, showing that I had to depend on someone else.

“And I have to use the bathroom.”

I shot Damon a glare, warning him to shut up. The guard at the door was smirking; I could tell, though he was facing the other way his face was only partly concealed.

Damon’s complaints had reminded me of my every day necessities. I glowered at the dirty cell wall. The room we were in was low-ceilinged and wide, torches casting dull shades of orange around the filthy place. It was dark and somewhat stuffy, and the floor was wet. My hands were tied awfully stiff with a rope behind my back. Damon was tied up as well, though I couldn’t fathom why; he was only eleven.

“When’re we getting out of here?” he whispered quietly, so the stocky guard couldn’t hear.

“Damon, do me a favor and be quiet,” I growled, trying to think of a plan.

I looked around the dingy room, at the tough but dumb-looking guard... trying to format a plan...

I knew I needed to get a glimpse of the so-called princess. I had to make sure it was her, because so many times I’d searched and found it wasn’t the girl I was looking for. It had to be the girl the prophecy spoke of... But I couldn’t be sure of that only by looking at her. Sure, the prophecy said the girl was strikingly beautiful, but that wasn’t enough. It also said she had unruly powers, strong, deadly abilities...

As soon as the plan hatched in my head, some twenty minutes later, I glanced again at the guard.

He was looking around the dungeon, obviously painstakingly bored.

“Hey,” I called, catching his attention. “Can I use the bathroom? Or am I bound to die of a full bladder?”

He scowled, nostrils flaring. The expression was ugly on this man’s face; he looked as if he’d smelled something revolting.

Then he smiled slyly. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded angrily, unafraid of his size. I had the urge to smirk as he stepped forward, glad I’d provoked him.

He bent down by my side, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You want me to let you use the ‘bathroom’, so you can run off again. Not gonna happen, alright?”

I didn’t respond, just stared savagely back into his sunken face, undaunted.

“I just want to use the damn bathroom,” I said calmly.

He chuckled and stood. “Well, sorry. If you die because your bladder bursts, you have my permission to haunt me in your afterlife.” He laughed freely and turned to head back towards the door.

I reacted instinctively, not because it was part of the plan, but because it was what came to my mind. I kicked the back of his legs so they buckled and he fell forward. I jumped to my feet as fast as I could with my hands tied and whirled to face him; he was wiping blood from his broken nose, which had collided with the ground. He spit on the ground, expression irate.

 I kicked him in the face as he teetered forward, and he fell to the ground again, grunting in pain. I took the opportunity to kick him in the stomach so he fell over, though he tried to grab my legs. He got to his feet again and made a move to grab me but I kneed him in the stomach and he stumbled backwards and came to a halt when his head rammed backwards into the wall. He collapsed, and I smiled in triumph, glancing at Damon, who had been watching warily.

“Did anyone else hear?” he whispered.

I froze, listening intently, and shook my head when I didn’t hear any movement outside the thick dungeon door.

I bent down by the guard to check he was unconscious and then stood again.

“Aren’t you going to free yourself?” Damon asked.

I snorted. “Are you insane? What if this guy wakes up? All I want is a look at the princess. If it’s her then we stay.”

“What if he wakes up?”

“He won’t,” I said confidently, strolling over to the door and examining the locks. I considered freeing myself for a second before realizing it wasn’t a very good measure to take. I unlocked the door with my foot and glanced furtively down the hallway before proceeding through the dark and grimy corridor, straining my ears to catch any noise.

I spent five brief minutes finding my way out, and then saw that we had been underground. I found the passage that led up a flight of stone steps, and climbed it, hoisting open the trapdoor with my back and crawling out, making sure only a little thump was heard from the door as it shut by closing it with my foot.

My eyes swept the grounds. The castle was tall and majestic, rising hundreds of feet in the air, lofting into the black starlit sky. The moon was a bright, luminous silver disc in the sky, giving my surroundings a serene impression. I edged along the walls of the castle to avoid anyone’s eye, and noticed several guards chatting by the golden gates at the front of the castle. I hurried along and made it unnoticed while their backs were turned, and continued along the wall.

A gleam of black from above caught my eye, and I glanced up—and froze.

Was that her?

A girl was standing at a window above my head, looking drearily out, sitting at the windowsill. Her hair was what had caught my attention—the moonlight seemed to glint off her dark curls, seemed to light up her delicate pallid face. She was breathtaking. I could see heavy black lashes and very bright eyes that looked like green, I could see she was gorgeous from where I stood, gaping at her in silence. She wore a thin white nightdress; a gentle breeze was swaying her hair slightly as she gazed somberly out the window, like something was bothering her.

At that moment she glanced down at me; and a foreign sensation I’d never felt before engulfed me.

A heavy, meaningful feeling came over me, knocking me off my feet—metaphorically, of course. Something swelled in my chest, making it hard to breathe, making it impossible to look away from her utter perfection that dazzled my eyes, our gazes locked. My heart thudded faster in my chest as I gazed up at her, dumbstruck, like I’d been hit over the head with a club, like I’d had all the oxygen sucked from my system and I was floating in peaceful ecstasy. She looked somewhat flustered, her chest heaving slightly like she was taking multiple deep breaths.

I wanted to go up there, to talk to her and get to know her, to view her up close to see if she was really as angelic as she appeared from so far below.

But then she abruptly turned the other way so only her back was visible to me. I blinked and shook my head, feeling like I’d been pulled from another world, and looked across the grounds to see if anyone had noticed my temporary diversion and turned from her, still trying to get my head back together.

That was definitely her. No way could any human be as... there wasn’t really a word to describe her, but the word ideal came to mind. I didn’t have time to ponder that connection I’d felt when our gazes had met, because I caught the sound of a guard bustling towards my way and was forced to creep along the wall back towards the trapdoor to the dungeon. The whole way my mind was somewhere else, and I even forgot to check if the guards at the gate had their backs turned before I sneaked behind them.

I heaved the trapdoor open and sat down on the rim, then threw myself inside and shut the door behind me. I found my way easily through the dimly lit corridors, though I felt slightly lightheaded. I was vaguely relieved to see the dumb-looking guard I’d knocked out was still unconscious, Damon sitting on the ground against a wall, his dark hair tousled, a grim expression planted on his face.

He looked up when I entered.

“That was fast,” he mumbled. “Did you see her?”

“What?” I’d been staring at a rat that was scampering into a hole in a corner, remembering her face... that delicate bone structure... entrancing eyes and gorgeous gleaming locks of silk dark hair...

“Are you okay?” Damon asked cautiously, as I strode over and sat down beside him.

I nodded, still not looking at him, instead glaring at the insensible guard lying on the floor.

“I saw her,” I muttered, clearing my throat and shaking my head in wonder.

“Well?”

I let out a breathless chuckle. “That was her, alright.”

Damon grinned; his luminous eyes alight under his disheveled hair. “Excellent.”

The guard on the ground stirred, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. Then his eyes flashed open and he pushed himself off the ground, suddenly standing, looking scrupulously dazed.

Then his eyes settled on me.

“YOU!” he bellowed, and then looked around as if expecting I had placed a bomb somewhere. There was a bruise on his forehead.

I shrugged. “Me.”

His nostrils flared as he glared at me, and his eyes dash to my hands, which were still tied behind my back.

“You—I...”

I rolled my eyes and looked away as the guard continued to splutter illogical words and creative curses. I thought again of that connection I’d felt... that bond...

And I didn’t like it. I didn’t like that this girl allured me so, I didn’t like that looking at her made me lose my focus. It made me feel weak, like I wasn’t in control of my actions, like I’d do something totally unlike myself and regret it immediately afterwards. Like she had a sort of power over me. And that was the very last thing I wanted to think towards the princess of the rival kingdom of my people.

“I’m getting the king!” the guard stormed, obviously at a loss at what to do with me, since I hadn’t escaped.

“Now I’m scared,” I muttered, and the man shot me a glower before disappearing out the door.