Empress of Kings

By Elle Caldwell

Aeloy Netheraven was born and raised in the Kingdom’s most dangerous prison. Three nights a week she bleeds and breaks in the Pits, an illegal fight club run by the warden.

One day, two strangers offer her a choice and a chance. In exchange for her freedom, all she has to do is guard a prince. But in a cursed land where a tyrant Queen rules from a stolen throne, guarding a prince isn’t as easy as Aeloy thought it would be. Someone keeps gifting her body parts, a kitchen maid goes missing and the Queen forces Aeloy to compete in a series of trials to prove her worth.

As Aeloy searches for the missing kitchen maid, and the culprit behind the grotesque gifts, she uncovers truths which shake the very foundation of her life and everyone around her. She finally found freedom, but at what cost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398449138

Elle Caldwell

Elle is from Johannesburg, South Africa. Most of her childhood was spent running around outside like a feral creature. When she wasn’t chasing fairies, or climbing trees, she would write little stories. After studying fashion design and marketing, she moved to London with her husband where they now live with their two cats and lots of plants.

Book preview

Chapter One

It started with the creak of a metal flap. It preceded the soft rustle of fabric and the punctuated bark of the prison guard.

Five minutes.

She didn’t have to turn around to know what lay crumpled on her prison cell floor. She knew exactly what was going to happen, and she was not in the mood.

She’d been down this road before—three times to be exact—and had resisted every time. Yes, she knew exactly what that threadbare bag meant and had no intention of going near it. She would not touch it, not even with the very tip of her dirt-encrusted toe.

Whenever a prisoner was due to be transferred to another cell or prison, they would get a five-minute warning in the form of a threadbare bag.

Five minutes to pack whatever belongings they had managed to obtain through bribery, bargaining or stealing.

Five minutes to wonder where they were going.

Five minutes to hope they would be transferred away from the most dangerous prison in the kingdom.

Five minutes to pray to the Fates, to plead to the White Mother, not to be transferred deeper into the bowels of Denbar prison.

Rumours bubbled from its depths of prisoners so evil, not even a life sentence could atone for their crimes. That a death sentence was considered too merciful for them. Guards whispered that maybe not all of those living beneath her filthy, bare feet were human but came from the large kingdom which rested above their own. The Kingdom of Faeris: an empire of magic and the Fae who wielded it.

She had met many of the heartless murderers and fearless thieves imprisoned in Denbar, and even the most deranged of these criminals had shivered at the thought of going one floor down. The further down you went, the less likely you were to come out, even as a corpse.

The faint sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. She stood up with a heavy sigh. There was precious little time left to bask in the small patch of sunlight which leaked through the tiny window, high in the stone wall. She really wasn’t in the mood for this today. In less than half an hour her precious patch of sunlight would be gone. Basking in the weak heat was one of the few things she could look forward to.

Hissing at the sharp pain which shot through her bruised ribs, she started braiding her long hair—quicksilver and gunmetal, just like her mother.

Last night’s fight had been brutal. A deathmatch. No weapons. Fists only. She had won. Luckily.

Lucky because, although her opponent was bigger than her, he was older.

Lucky, she had been faster than him, ducking and spinning around his lashing fists and kicking feet. Well, most of his kicks, her aching ribs were testimony to that. But eventually, he had begun to tire. And then she had attacked. A fist to his kidney. A punch to his gut. A kick to shatter his knee and bring him crumbling down. Finally, she had wrapped her legs around his neck, warding off his clawing hands with her own, and strangled the life out of him.

One eternal second after another.

The crowds, haloed above her fighting pit, had gone wild. The Princess of the Pits had won yet again. Had been winning since she was fifteen years old. Her victories had made the prison guards rich, the warden filthy rich. She was a prisoner of worth. They had no reason to move her and yet…

She flipped her knee length braid over her shoulder and faced the door with clenched fists. The key scuttled into place, and the lock turned with a stubborn creak. She rolled her neck as the bolt slid aside and the door groaned open.

Two men entered her cell.

Two strangers.

She resisted the urge to tug on her threadbare clothes—a tunic and a pair of draw string trousers—both suited to someone shorter than her almost six-foot frame. As a result, the metal cuffs on her wrists and ankles were exposed. She imagined her clothes had been a light, solid colour once upon a time. When she had stolen them off the previous owner, they had already been dirty. Now, after a year of constant wear, they were a patchwork of dirt, bloodstains and whatever else prison life had to offer. Much like the colour of her skin.

Aeloy Netherhaven? one of the strangers asked. His skin boasted of his Afrique heritage with a rich copper glow.

Aeloy cocked her head slightly but kept quiet.

His grey eyes dipped to the floor and nudged the bag with the tip of his brown riding boot. You haven’t packed.

Should I? Her eyes flashed.

Yes, he replied, I would like to leave immediately.

No.

Excuse me?

I’m not leaving. Aeloy widened her stance, her intention clear.

The second stranger pushed his black cloak aside and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. His azure blue eyes regarded her warily beneath a mop of blond hair.

She tracked his movement. The corner of her full mouth lifted ever so slightly.

The first stranger placed a hand on his companion’s arm. Why is that?

How about a little deal? She turned her attention back to him. "I’ll answer your question after you’ve answered one of mine."

A dark curl fell across the first stranger’s brow, now creased in thought. After a long moment, he nodded his head then said with some reluctance, Deal.

Why has Warden Emrys drafted in mercenaries to move me? Dressed in navy breeches and matching riding jackets, they didn’t look like mercenaries. They looked like soldiers by the way they stood with their backs straight and their eyes sharp.

You think we’re mercenaries? the second stranger spluttered, offended.

Aeloy wagged a finger at him, tutting. An honest soldier hated being mistaken for a mercenary. He had fallen right into her trap and given her a free answer. A question for a question. Which means I get to ask another.

The first stranger chuckled softly. It was a warm sound. A pleasant sound. A sound so foreign in a world of screams and curses. It didn’t belong in this place. She wanted to hear it again.

Well? she barked, annoyed with herself for wanting something so ridiculous.

We were not drafted in by Warden Emrys. We were sent here. His mouth still held on to the ghost of a smile.

She raised an eyebrow. By whom?

I can only answer that if you agree to come with us.

Aeloy snorted. I guess that leads us right back to where we started.

And right back to my first question, the dark-haired stranger retorted.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment. A deal was a deal. The answer to your first question is simple. I don’t want to leave.

His face grew serious. I’m sorry, Miss Netherhaven, but you have no choice in the matter. He picked up the bag and held it towards her with fingers criss-crossed with little white scars. Either you pack your bag, or we pack it for you.

Do what you like, but I will not leave. Aeloy crossed her arms defiantly.

You don’t have a choice.

Don’t I? her voice dropped dangerously low.

We can do this the easy way or the hard way, he countered.

Both ways will be hard for you.

I don’t understand. He rubbed a hand over his handsome face. Why won’t you come with us?

I might not have a choice about why I’m here but when it comes to leaving, the choice will be mine. Right now—she pointed at the filthy stones beneath her equally filthy feet—I choose to stay. Besides, I don’t know who you are and where you’re taking me. It might make this situation a little easier if I did.

He looked at her for a few moments then seemed to reach some internal decision. Start packing her things. He passed the bag to his blond companion and left.

Chapter Two

One minute.

That was how long it took for the blue-eyed stranger to pack all seventeen years of her life. Aeloy watched him transfer her belongings from their place next to her cot to that Fate’s forsaken bag.

First, he packed her five dog-eared books. She had traded a favour, sometimes two, for each one.

Next, he threw in her unopened ink pot and unused pen. Those had been gifted to her by some drunk lord as a reward for winning a particularly long, bloody match. Initially, he had laughed at her request. What low life criminal knew how to write after all? He honoured her request when he realised he was the only one laughing. Next time, she would ask for a book, filled with blank pages.

Lastly, he threw in her worn-out fighting leathers. The body was still warm when she had stripped them off her opponent. It was rare to fight a woman, but she had to take what she could get when the opportunity presented itself. She had learned not to be fussy. Besides, the dead didn’t need clothing. Her fighting leathers were worn and already a size too small. It wouldn’t be long before she would need to desecrate another body.

You forgot the candle and matches, Aeloy advised from her spot in the weak sun.

There’s hardly anything left.

Like my patience.

That candle had been a precious gift from her only friend in the prison. Its value was far greater than the worn books and untouched ink. She only dared to light it on the nights when the darkness was the deepest. When it threatened to crawl over her face and push down her throat. On the nights when she felt the loneliness clawing at her insides. On the nights when she missed her mother the most.

It had been just over seven years since her mother had died. Since she had taken her last breath in this very cell. In the cot Aeloy now slept in. Under the blanket she crawled beneath each night. To Aeloy Netherhaven, the soft glow of that candle was like a sunrise.

She tracked the second stranger as he returned to his place by the door, her whole life clasped in his large hand. Two inches taller than his companion, he stood around at six foot two and was well-built. The frown he wore looked out of place on his friendly face. He didn’t scare her. The biggest always fell the hardest. She had proven that fact over and over again. She had no intention of letting them leave with her belongings. She had fought too hard, bled too many times, for them to simply take it away. No, she was going to let them think she was cooperating. Then, she would attack and bruise and break. This was her home and she was not leaving unless it was under her own terms.

It wasn’t long before he began to fidget under her cold gaze. She watched as his throat bobbed up and down, his mouth open and close.

Spit it out, she snapped.

Mattao.

What?

My name— He cleared his throat. My name is Mattao.

Her grumbling stomach was the only response. She ignored him and the pain in her stomach. The guards had ‘forgotten’ to feed her again. Their forgetfulness had sculpted her body into a mosaic of hollowed cheeks and starved lines. They had also ‘forgotten’ to give her fresh water. If it weren’t for the heavy rains last night, she would have had to drink from the rusty bucket of dirty water the guards had left six days ago. Although, lapping up the rainwater as it ran down the wall wasn’t exactly pleasant either. Aeloy expected better treatment from the guards for all the money they had won from her fights. But Denbar was a place where the world forgot about you. A place you came to die. A full belly and healthy body simply didn’t exist here.

Life didn’t exist here.

Ungrateful bastards. One day she would make them suffer. Luckily for the guards, it wasn’t today. Although, it was potentially going to be someone else’s turn for a little pain. She would get her belongings back. She always got back what was hers.

Mattao reached into his cloak and pulled out something small and green. Here. He tossed it to her. I picked it on the ride in.

It made a crisp sound when she caught it.

It’s an apple, he added a heartbeat later, looking away. She didn’t miss his quick glance at her collar bones poking through her tunic.

Aeloy nodded as if she already knew that. What do you want in exchange for this? she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Mattao frowned, confused. Nothing. It’s just an apple.

Just an apple. He said it so casually, like it didn’t matter at all. Like it didn’t feel as though Aeloy was holding a tiny piece of the world in her filthy hands. A piece of a world she longed to be in. Fought to be in. Bled to be in.

Everything has a price, she said.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Listen to what the Colonel has to say, Mattao said before the door swung open and the first stranger—the Colonel—appeared.

Aeloy looked at Mattao and nodded once. In exchange for the apple she would listen.

The Colonel gestured for Mattao to wait outside her cell. Aeloy placed the apple on the floor next to her, crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. This was by far the most interesting attempt at relocation she’d had to deal with. It certainly was the most peaceful. The guards normally just barged in shouting some garbled war cry, their fists flying and their eyes wild. She was more than happy to go along with this civilized approach.

For now.

Miss Netherhaven, the Colonel began confidently, I would like to make a deal with you.

Chapter Three

I want my things.

Until the terms of our deal have been agreed, he replied calmly, they will remain in my companion’s care. His honey-brown skin looked so warm in her cold cell. She bet he’d never wanted for anything.

Then consider us in permanent disagreement. She shrugged a bony shoulder.

We’re wasting time. Impatience leaked into his voice.

She straightened at his tone. "No, you’re wasting time. She stabbed a finger at him, then at her door. Tell Mattao to bring in my possessions and I will listen to your offer."

She had agreed to listen to the Colonel in exchange for the apple, and that was exactly what she had been doing. His mouth was moving, words were coming out, and she was hearing them. Last she checked, that qualified as listening.

They stared at each other across her small prison cell. Aeloy could do this all day. She had nothing better planned. The Colonel, by the sounds of things, was on a tight schedule. It didn’t take long for him to blink, rub a scarred hand down his handsome face and duck his head out the door. A second later, he was holding the bag with her possessions.

Good enough? He waggled the bag at his side.

For now. At least it was in her cell. Not like it would have been a problem to retrieve it if Mattao still had it. As long as her door was unlocked, and one of the strangers was in her cell, she would be able to persuade the other to return her things. Letting them pack her belongings in the first place had been a gamble, but entertainment outside the Pits was so rare…

I have been tasked with escorting you to someone who wishes to speak with you, the Colonel said, launching into his pitch. Afterwards, we will escort you back here. Warden Emrys has authorized your absence from Denbar and mentioned your current tally will not be compromised in your absence. A frown preceded his question. What does that mean?

Aeloy shrugged. The deal? she prompted.

The deal is as follows. You will be with us for seven days. You may not speak of what you see, hear and do from the time you walk out this door until the time you walk back in. You may not mention our names to anyone from this moment on. He held up three scarred fingers. "In exchange for the above and your full, peaceful cooperation, you will be granted three requests, within reason, and five gold coins. Do we have a deal?"

A small frown creased her dirty brow. Being escorted from Denbar by strangers, just to speak to a stranger for money, sounded like a set up to her. The whole thing sounded too good to be true. And deeply unsettling. Who was so important they were willing to pay her to keep her mouth shut? The Pits were the worst kept secret in the kingdom. Anyone with enough money to pay the exorbitant entrance fee and place a bet was welcome. She had seen lords and earls haloed about her pit. Why couldn’t this person just speak to her during one of the Pit nights?

Did Warden Emrys pay you to do this? she asked.

He had tried and tried to remove her. Once or twice, the guards had even tried escorting her down a different corridor after Pit night. She had no idea where they had tried to take her, but she had broken loose of their hold and returned to her cell. She would not go below ground and she would not be moved from the place she shared with her mother. This was her home.

A look of disgust rolled across his face. We have more honour than that.

Aeloy raised an eyebrow at the conviction in his voice. The Colonel had clearly seen the true nature of the Warden of Denbar. The man was as bad as some of the prisoners he housed, if not worse.

Then who is paying you?

Do not compare us to mercenaries, Miss Netherhaven. He took offense. We volunteered to come here today. Do we have a deal or are we wasting our time?

She rolled her eyes at his impatience. How far are we travelling?

Not far, perhaps half a day.

Is it another prison?

No.

How many men will be there?

Men?

Yes. The opposite of women.

Myself, Mattao and one other.

Aeloy fiddled with the iron shackle choking her wrist. Being one of the only women in Denbar constantly had her on edge. Men always tried to take what they liked, when they liked. And she wasn’t just talking about her few possessions.

I imagine this isn’t easy for you, Miss Netherhaven, he said gently. If I were in your position, I’d probably be suspicious too. I know I’m a stranger and mean nothing to you, but all I can offer is my word that no harm will come to you while you are in my care. His grey eyes softened. I have offered you a deal, and now I would like to offer you a choice; come with us or stay. Either way, I will honour your three requests and give you the five coins. The choice is yours.

She stilled at his words.

A choice.

He was giving her a choice. No one had ever given her one. Every day in this Reaper infested gehenna hole was an endless cycle of being forced to fight. Forced to eat whenever they felt like feeding her. To be given the option to choose freely, that was rare.

She tapped her metal cuffs against each other. Once. Twice. She had no intention of being a prisoner forever. Paying off her sentence by fighting in the Pits was the only way she knew this could be achieved. And she wasn’t going to carry the sins of her mother until she, too, died in this place. There was an entire world beyond these stone walls. A world her mother had often spoken about. This was an opportunity she didn’t want to dismiss too quickly. A stint outside of Denbar would give her a taste of freedom. It would help her understand life outside of prison and what she would need to do to survive.

Leaving with these two strangers could be fatal. She didn’t know if she could trust the Colonel or whether Warden Emrys didn’t have a hand in this. But she was a fighter. A survivor. If, at any point, she felt like she was in danger, she could always escape. That opportunity alone was worth the risk of leaving with these two men.

A tiny spark of hope flared in her chest. A choice and a chance. Those two things didn’t walk into her cell every day. Saying yes would be crazy. She was already crazy for just thinking about it. Aeloy hoped her decision didn’t make her insanely stupid.

She tucked her now trembling hands behind her back. Yes. She swallowed the anxiety clawing up her throat. I agree to your terms and will go with you.

Chapter Four

Let’s go. The Colonel moved forward to grab her elbow.

Don’t touch me. Aeloy stepped back with a snarl. "Don’t ever touch me."

He snatched his hand back, grey eyes wide with alarm. I…I’m sorry.

Let’s just get this over with before I change my mind. She picked up her apple then held out her wrists. "Do what you need to but, if either of you touch me in a way that has nothing to do with securing me for transport, I will kill you."

You have my word. The Colonel called for Mattao, who attached heavy chains to the cuffs on her ankles and wrists. He linked them together with another heavy chain which ran down the centre of her body. She couldn’t spread her arms and could only take tiny, awkward steps when she walked.

Next, Mattao pulled out a long black cape and moved to sling it over her shoulders.

She shuffled back with a hiss. "What don’t you understand about do not touch me?"

Mattao froze under her cold glare.

I’m sorry, Miss Netherhaven but we have to. The Colonel gave Mattao a pat on the back to get him moving.

Why? She leaned away, eyeing the cloak suspiciously.

You’re too noticeable. Mattao shrugged apologetically.

Aeloy looked down at herself. She looked exactly like any prisoner should: stinky, filthy and unnaturally thin. Well, some prisoners had shoes, but she’d never owned a pair, nor had any desire to.

It’s more than what you look like, the Colonel clarified. It’s what you are. Female prisoners are rare. I would prefer to keep your identity and gender a mystery. We don’t want word of a female prisoner leaving Denbar to reach— He clamped his mouth shut.

Yes? Aeloy leaned forward with a purr.

We have a deal, Miss Netherhaven, he reminded her sharply.

She pursed her lips then sighed dramatically. Fine.

Aeloy stiffened as Mattao threw the black cape over her shoulders and tugged up the hood. He fastened it under her chin then held out his hand for her apple. After a moment’s hesitation, she dropped it into his waiting palm. He added it to her belongings in the bag.

Wedged between the Colonel and Mattao, she was escorted out of Denbar. The shadows of other prisoners shifted beneath the doors as Aeloy passed, the rattling of her chains drawing them close. They would find out soon enough she had left. The Pits would be open again the next evening. It would be boring and less profitable without her. Whoever sent these two strangers had to be wealthy. The profit from three matches was a lot of money for the warden to lose. They must have compensated Warden Emrys handsomely if he was willing to let her out for seven days.

Prisoners weren’t the only ones attracted to the ringing of her chains. Guards intercepted them at every turn. By the time they reached the stables, word of her departure had spread, and there was a small audience waiting for them. Every one of the guards looked the trio over, surprised to see no blood or broken bones.

All this for me? Aeloy asked with mock surprise. You shouldn’t have.

The Colonel and Mattao wasted no time leading her to a narrow cage hitched to a sturdy-looking horse. She had never seen a real horse before and didn’t know the first thing about them beyond what she had read and heard. Quickly and efficiently, they helped her into the cage and secured her chains to a metal ring between her feet. The gate slammed shut with an ominous ring.

Aeloy swallowed her fear and scanned the crowd. Surely, he must have heard she was leaving by now. He wouldn’t miss saying goodbye. He always found a way to see her. Always. Something, or someone, must have prevented him from reaching the stables.

The answer pushed through the gawking guards a moment later. Aeloy bared her teeth at Warden Emrys and growled. He shot her a withering glare and wiped at his jowls with an already damp cloth. He had grown fat off his illegal enterprise. He was in charge of Denbar, after all, and practically ran the betting rings. He gave her cage a wide berth as he rolled up the Colonel, smiling at his new best friends in gold.

Sir Vilar. He flopped into an awkward bow. I trust your master will find his new toy satisfactory.

Aeloy locked her knees to stop them from shaking. She knew better than to trust anything that came out the Warden’s mouth but couldn’t stop the fear that settled over her. Sir Vilar? Master? Had she really been so easily fooled by the Colonel’s civilized approach?

I’m sure he will, the Colonel replied coldly and mounted his horse.

Warden Emrys stepped up to her cage, chest puffed up in triumph. Have fun, my little darling.

All those times they had tried to remove her, was it because Warden Emrys had agreed to rent her out? Her fear was replaced with anger. She lunged for him. Chains crashed, snapping taut before she could reach the bars.

He stumbled back with a squeak. When he realised she couldn’t reach him, his cowardly bravado returned. I’ll be waiting. His bloodshot eyes slid down her body. Make sure you come back to me in one piece. I’m not finished with you yet.

A sharp smile cut her face. Don’t worry, Warden, I’ll be back. Aeloy tapped her ear twice.

His hand shot to his left ear.

Her smile grew wider. Feral.

He quickly dropped his hand, revealing an ear with the lobe missing.

She began to laugh. There was nothing sane about the sound. I’m not finished with you either.

The cart lurched forward. She desperately scanned the crowd for a glimpse of her friend’s chestnut hair. But she knew it was pointless. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and fear rolled in her belly. She was leaving. She was finally leaving. Even though it was just for a short time. Maybe to a place worse than Denbar. Maybe to a man worse than the one she was leaving behind. But she would rage against whatever came her way. She would kick and punch and break and bleed like she always did. She would do whatever it took to survive at the end.

Aeloy forced herself to look at the place where she had been born. Where her mother had died. At the cold stone walls and the barren earth its mass squatted in. She looked at the tiny prison windows that fought to let any light in and cold out. At the long wooden structure that grew from its side like the cancerous disease it was. There, the soil had sated itself on her blood under the jeers of the spectators, screaming in pleasure at the sound of breaking bone.

Aeloy looked at her prison, her hell, her home.

She would be back. Maybe in a day, maybe in a week, maybe in a year. But when she did, she would come back stronger than before. If Denbar had not broken her, she would not be broken elsewhere.

Aeloy Netherhaven took a deep breath, raised her eyes and began to devour the world.

Chapter Five

Aeloy wasn’t sure if she had blinked. If she had even breathed. She had just stared.

And stared.

And stared.

At the grass and the flowers that pushed up in the spaces between. At the trees, their new, unfurling leaves dancing in the early spring breeze. At the mountains so vast and the sky even more so. At the light so…clean, so alive, as it glinted off a stream, flashed off a butterfly’s wing, glossed down a rabbit’s tawny fur. And the colours, so vibrant compared to the filthy hues of Denbar. Outside its cold dead walls, the world pulsed. It breathed. It lived.

So, this was the world she had read about. The world from her mother’s stories. The world she fought for in the Pits, three times a week.

Her eyes darted everywhere. Her head whipped from side to side. Aeloy wanted to touch and smell and submerge herself in it all. She couldn’t seem to breathe fast enough, deep enough. Gorging herself on air that had never tasted so sweet. So pure.

At some point, they had turned off the main road and rattled down a narrow, abandoned track. Leaves scraped against the bars of the cage, and she wondered what they would feel like against her face. She wished she could reach through the bars and touch them. They bumped along for a few more minutes before stopping inside a small clearing. It felt like they had travelled for mere seconds but, by the position of the sun, Aeloy guessed it was around midday.

She barely noticed their touch when the Colonel and Mattao helped her out the cage. As soon as her feet touched the grass, she sucked in a sharp breath, immediately curling her toes against the new sensation. She pressed her chained hands flat against her cloak and peered down at her feet. Slowly, achingly slowly, she unfurled one foot, then the other, until the soles of her feet were flat against the grass. She released a shuddering breath, then curled and uncurled her toes again and again and again.

For you.

A flower, the size of her thumb nail, appeared under her nose. It was so perfectly purple, and the little white border around each petal so brilliantly white, she had to blink a few times to confirm it was real.

It’s called a germander speedwell. Scar-flecked fingers twirled the flower, blurring its colours.

She reached for it then snatched her hand back. No.

No? The Colonel frowned at the little flower in his hand. I could have sworn I had its name right. It doesn’t matter anyway. I picked it for you. He held it out to her again, an excited smile on his face.

Aeloy stepped back, fists clenched. No.

I— His excited smile dropped. It’s just a little flower.

I don’t want anything from you.

His arm holding the flower dropped. Ok. He nodded. Swallowed. Ok.

Liar, she hissed.

Excuse me? He straightened.

You heard me. She spit at his feet. You’re a Karrion-infested liar.

If you’re going to accuse me of something, then at least have the decency to let me explain whatever it is I have lied about, he challenged.

She regarded him with eyes carved from ice. You lied to me about who you are.

The Colonel’s frown deepened, then his face cleared. You mean what Warden Emrys called me back at Denbar?

She waited.

"Sir Vilar is the name I used for the benefit of Warden Emrys only," he clarified.

Are you even a Colonel? Aeloy accused. Or is that another name you use to lure helpless woman out of their prison cells?

"I am a Colonel, and you are by no means helpless, Miss Netherhaven. We felt it necessary to conceal our true identities from the Warden."

Why?

Because who we are is none of his business.

Then what is your name? she pressed. Or is that none of my business either.

Those dove-grey eyes studied her for a heartbeat. Colonel Cascade Forrester.

And Mattao?

Major Mattao Ashworth.

Where is he?

Colonel Cascade Forrester pointed the way they had just come. Making sure we weren’t followed.

She stared at him. His brown skin glowed in the midday sun like he belonged exactly where he was—surrounded by greens and blues and little purple flowers. It was too late to regret her decision now. She had agreed to his deal and promised to cooperate.

She sighed, then said, Now what?

Now, we’re going to leave the cage here and continue the rest of our journey on horseback. The horse, waiting patiently in front of her cage, whinnied on que.

No, she said.

I’m beginning to think that’s your favourite word. Cascade chuckled and shook his head. The spring breeze danced through his dark, rebellious curls. Don’t you like horses?

Rattling her chains, she said, Apart from the obvious, I don’t know how to ride a horse. Between art class and school, I never had the time for horse riding lessons.

He chuckled again, and she hated how much she liked the sound.

We’re going to leave those here, too. He nodded at the chains.

Aeloy eyed him suspiciously.

"You agreed to give us your full, peaceful cooperation," Cascade reminded her.

I’m a criminal, she reminded him. How can you trust me not to run away the first chance I get?

Hold this. He held the flower towards her.

She hesitated for a moment then took it from him, careful not to touch his skin with her filthy fingers.

I can’t trust you. Cascade pulled out a key and started unlocking the chains at her ankles.

Then why? With her feet free, she could easily overpower him, steal the keys and run away.

"Because I have chosen to trust you, Miss Netherhaven. Just as you have chosen to trust me."

Aeloy could accept that the person who wanted to talk to her didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. Maybe they were bed ridden and couldn’t make the trip to the prison to talk to her themselves. Maybe they were holding a private fight. Maybe they wanted her to kill someone outside the prison. Everything about the situation was bizarre. But whatever this person wanted, the situation was sensitive and desperate enough that they were willing to pull her out of Denbar and disguise the fact she was a prisoner.

I don’t need your pity, Colonel. Aeloy stepped out of his reach. We both know the cape is long enough to conceal my chains.

This has nothing to do with pity and everything to do with necessity. He stood up. The person you are going to see is in a position of authority, and their movements are closely watched. We need to take certain measures to ensure your appearance doesn’t attract unwanted attention. Now, hold out your hands, he commanded.

They had done nothing but treat her like a human so far. Even when she was in chains, they had been respectful. They hadn’t pushed or threatened. They hadn’t tried to take advantage of her just because she was a woman. They had seen her as a person and tried to treat her as one. To a nothing like Aeloy, that meant the world.

Tentatively, she held out her shackled wrists to him. This wasn’t prison. Things were different out here, so she had to be different.

Chapter Six

Riding a horse was nothing like Aeloy had imagined it to be. According to the stories she’d read and the tales she’d been told, riding a horse was supposed to be what dreams were made of. She’d lived on tales of rider and horse charging to the rescue of a damsel while defeating foul dragons. Of war horses trampling on the enemies cut down by its fearless rider. Of contests where horse and rider had to complete gruelling tasks, or of races spanning vast distances littered with near-death experiences. Her favourite had always