Promising Hope (22 page)

“Your Majesty, I have to tell you again, this could
make her sick,” Cobb said. “If she had taken a milder love potion,
antidotes are fine, but for one this strong, it’s much better to
wait for it to wear off.”

“Just do it!” William snapped.

Cobb fidgeted, then shook his head and walked towards
Grace.

Dar put up his hand. “Is that really the antidote?
How do I know you’re not poisoning her?”

“Dar, we would never,” King Thomas said,
indignant.

“I’m not letting you give it to her,” Dar said,
stepping in front of Grace.

William’s hand went for the hilt of his sword. King
Thomas grabbed his arm. “Cobb, drink it.”

Cobb looked down at the contents of the goblet. He
took a sip and made a face. He gagged and barely made it to the
wastebasket before throwing it up. He wiped his mouth. “See? That’s
what happens when someone who isn’t on a love potion drinks an
antidote.”

Dar studied him for a moment. Cobb held his eyes.

Dar finally stepped back. “Fine.”

Marisa gently woke Grace up. Grace’s hand immediately
went to her head, and she groaned. “My head.”

“Drink this,” Marisa said, handing her the goblet.
“It will make you feel better.”

Grace took the goblet and drank. She was so
trusting.

“Drink all of it,” Cobb said.

Grace jumped, nearly dropping the goblet. “Who are
you?” She saw William and sat up. “William—”

“Drink the rest, Grace,” Marisa said. “This will take
away your headaches.”

Grace took the goblet and downed the rest of the
potion. She shoved the cup into Marisa’s hand and opened her mouth
to speak to William when she froze. She closed her eyes and swayed
on the spot. Dar reached out to steady her. She lay down and began
shivering violently.

“What’s happening?” Dar asked Cobb.

“I knew she was going to get sick,” he said, shaking
his head.

Grace’s eyes opened, but Dar could only see the
whites of her eyes.

“What did you do?” Dar yelled. “What’s going to
happen to her?”

“She’s going to get sick, but she’ll be fine.” Cobb’s
voice sounded unsure.

Grace groaned, her eyes rolling back to where they
should be. Dar grasped her shoulder and was surprised at how warm
she was. “Grace,” he whispered.

She jerked away from him. “No… William…” She started
shivering again, and she buried herself in the covers, moaning.

Dar clenched his teeth and glared at William. “If you
kill her with this antidote…”

William smirked. “What are you going to do?

He’d kill him. He wouldn’t say it, though, not in
front of the king and Grace, even if she was sick.

“Dar,” Grace moaned. “Sierra.” She let out a long
yell, covering her head as though she was trying to block something
out.

“What’s happening?” Dar asked. “You have to do
something!”

“She’ll be fine. It will be a painful few hours, but
she’ll be okay,” Cobb said.

“Dar, you need to return to your work,” King Thomas
said.

“But, your Majesty—” Dar motioned to Grace, pleading
on his face.

“I’m sorry. You’re still a prisoner here. I’ll walk
you.”

Dar looked at Grace, who was hugging her knees to her
chest now, mumbling something to herself.

“Don’t worry,” Marisa said. “I’ll watch after
her.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t be difficult,” King Thomas said.

Dar sat down in the seat next to the bed. “I’m not
leaving her.”

“I’ll go fetch the guards,” William said.

King Thomas tried to talk Dar into returning to his
work, but Dar ignored him. He tried to speak to Grace, but she was
delirious. She had a fever, and she was in and out of sleep. She
said his name every now and then, but she also said William’s and
Sierra’s and unintelligible words.

William returned with two guards. Dar shook his head,
taking Grace’s hand. They had to drag him out, and he yelled her
name as they dragged him down the corridor back to the lower level
where the prisoners stayed.

* * *

Grace woke up with a gasp. She put a hand on her
heart; it was pounding through her ribcage. She was lying in a bed.
It was comfortable, warm. The window ahead showed a dark sky and a
full moon. She slowly sat up, then started when she saw William
sitting in the chair next to her bed. It all came back in a
rush—Mumbar Jungle, the love potion, William finding out.

He turned a dagger over and over in his hands.
“You’re awake.”

She nodded. “How long have I been sick?”

“Four days,” he said.

She leaned her head on the bed frame, taking a deep
breath. All she wore was a thin nightgown. She pulled the covers up
to cover her chest and glanced at William. He met her eyes. She
felt none of the delusional adoration for him that had consumed her
for the past weeks.

He was William, prince of Haltar. They could have had
a future together, but she was marked. She was a Protector of the
Avialies, and that would always come between them. He had tried to
kill her. Nearly strangled her to death. She touched her neck and
found tender bruises on her skin.

“Go on,” he said softly. “Ask it.”

She licked her lips. “Is Dar alive?”

He chuckled. “Unfortunately. My father is in favor of
mercy. Tisha and Kilar would have had no problem killing him. Nor
would I, of course. But he lives.”

She let out a breath of relief. “I’m glad you found
out.”

“So am I. Now I know where Tisha and Kilar’s
priorities lie.”

“They’ll place their hatred above everything
else.”

He stood and sheathed his dagger. “I’m going back to
bed.” He stepped away.

“William, wait.”

He turned back. “Yes?”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

She swallowed. “What are you going to do with
me?”

He sat down on the bed, close to her. His body
weighed on the mattress, making her lean towards him. He touched
her chin, then her neck. Goosebumps spread across her body, and she
held her breath. She started to consider what she could use as a
weapon against him. The lamp on the nightstand. His dagger.

His breath tickled her ear as he spoke. “You’re not
going anywhere.” He trailed his fingers down to her chest, and she
jerked away from him. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at
him. “I suppose it’s not so bad we didn’t kill him. Because if you
do anything to upset me again, I will.”

His weight was off the bed in a moment, and he left
the room. She wrapped the blankets into a wad and screamed into
it.

* * *

Chapter
Fifteen

“Grace. Lady Grace, you need to get up.”

Grace pulled the covers over her head, ignoring
Marisa’s voice.

Marisa tugged on the blankets. “The prince requests
your presence at breakfast.”

Grace glared at her. “I’m not feeling well.”

“You look just fine.” Marisa pulled the blankets
down, and the cold air hit Grace. Grace huffed and rolled out of
bed. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window. The
forest on the east side of the castle stretched out. She stood up
and let out a breath. She felt fine. Her headache was gone. Her
stomach had stopped stirring. She only worried about Dar and the
position she’d put both of them in.

“The prince sent you a gift,” Marisa announced,
motioning to a stunning blue dress hanging from Grace’s
wardrobe.

“He did?” she asked.

Marisa nodded. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Grace moved over to the wardrobe, where Marisa would
dress her. She was getting used to being handled like a child by
her maidservant, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. The
dress felt like air around her, comfortable and loose, and it fell
in all the right places. Why would William give this to her right
after finding out about the love potion? Was it his way of showing
forgiveness? Asking for it?

She went to the dining hall by herself. With each
step, the burden on her chest seemed to intensify. She wrung her
hands in front of her. They couldn’t do anything to Dar unless she
did something wrong. The two of them would work together to get out
of here. They’d be fine. She just had to figure out the men in the
castle. What did Tisha and Kilar think of her presence here? What
did William want with her? What was the king willing to do, if
anything, to keep her and Dar safe? As soon as she knew where she
stood, she could move forward.

At the bottom of the staircase, she paused and stared
in the direction of the dining hall. There was no way to avoid
this. She took a deep breath and walked forward. As she neared the
corner, she heard footsteps and tried to step to the side to avoid
being in anyone’s way. Queen Kate rounded the corner at a clip and
nearly walked right into her. She darted back when she saw
Grace.

“Oh, Your Majesty, I’m sorry,” Grace said
quickly.

Queen Kate glared at her, pursing her lips. “Sorry
for what, exactly? Sending my son across the country after you?
Your friends storming the castle? Tricking him with your love
potion?”

Grace’s mouth went dry. “I… yes, I never meant—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “I told you I didn’t want to
hear excuses. The Jolenians have a saying: ‘The act is more
powerful than the thought.’”

“Your Majesty, I—”

She stepped closer. “My son and my country, what do
those two have in common, Grace?”

“You care about them,” Grace whispered.

“Yes, that’s right. And you’ve become a spider in my
bed. I’m finished with you.”

“But Your Majesty—” Grace began. What could she say?
She didn’t want to be here anymore than Queen Kate wanted her to
be.

The queen brushed past her, making a sound of
disgust. “Don’t bother.” She strode off, her dark pink dress
sashaying behind her like she was in a wind storm.

A wonderful morning so far
, Grace thought.

She slowly walked the rest of the way to the doors of
the dining hall. Her breathing was coming out in short pants, and
she put a hand on her chest to steady her breathing. A servant
opened the doors for her, but she wasn’t ready. She almost called
out to stop him, but he motioned to her to enter, and she had no
choice.

She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin,
then walked into the dining room. The men seated at the table rose
at her presence. Except for the king. Her gaze swept over them
quickly, and she froze in her steps when she saw the man in the
seat next to hers.

He was a tall, older man with short black hair and
striking green eyes. He wore black clothes with rubies lined
through it. Darkness seemed to emanate from him. An image flashed
before her eyes: the vision from the cave, the man who spread his
hands out over the map and sent an evil force of magic out across
the world. This was him. The Thieran who’d cursed the Avialies.

Kilar’s chuckle broke through her thoughts.
“Gregorio, you’ve frightened her.”

“My presence has that effect on some people,”
Gregorio said. He smiled at Grace, his gaze sweeping over her body.
“Especially women.” Bile rose up in her throat, and she swallowed
it back. He strode over to her. Her heart pounded in her ears, and
she took a step back. Gregorio chuckled. “My, my. I’m not that
horrible, am I?”

Her mouth was dry, and she opened her mouth to say
something, though she wasn’t sure what.

“She’s been sick for three days,” William said,
walking over to them. He took her arm. “Please excuse her. Grace,
this is Lord Gregorio.”

“I know who he is,” Grace said. Her voice came out
low.

‘Lord’ Gregorio raised his eyebrows. “Fascinating. I
didn’t think your abilities would extend beyond the cave.”

Her mouth fell open. Had he known the moment he saw
her? Felt her presence as she’d felt his?

“Yes, I know what you did in that cave.
Måljivea
adëab
—”

“Don’t you dare say those words,” she snapped.

“Grace,” William said, his grip tightening on her
arm.

Gregorio took a step closer, making her crane her
neck to look up at him. “I felt something else counteract my magic,
my art, my creation… something that smelled like rotten Avialies.
Even now, in your presence, there’s a strange… stench. I could
smell if before you even came in.”

“You’d be very familiar with that smell since you
killed hundreds of them.”

Gregorio laughed and took a bow. “And proud of
it.”

“Come, sit and eat,” King Thomas said. He stood at
his spot now, his hands on the table. “Can we not have one peaceful
meal?”

Gregorio turned and strode to his seat. He hesitated,
then walked around the table. “If it would make the lady feel more
comfortable, I will sit over here.” He sat next to Kilar.

Grace didn’t even want to be in this room any longer,
but William tugged on her arm and gave her a warning look. She
followed him silently and sat next to him.

As the servants were serving breakfast, the doors
opened and Sashe walked in. The men stood, even King Thomas, and
Sashe moved to sit next to Grace.

“Wait, Sashe,” Kilar said, putting up his hand. “This
is Lord Gregorio.”

Sashe inclined her head. “Pleased to meet you, sir.
I’m Sashe.”

“He’s a Thieran,” Kilar said. Sashe glanced at the
man, only a trace of surprise on her face. “Perhaps…” He motioned
to Sashe. “Perhaps he could look at your womb, tell you how the
child is developing.”

Grace opened her mouth to speak when she felt
William’s hand on her knee.

“Do you remember what I said last night?” he asked,
his voice soft.

She looked at him, pursing her lips.

“Just be quiet, for once in your life,” he whispered.
His fingers tightened on her knee before withdrawing.