We step into the castle’s grand foyer, and the imposing figure of Lord Easterlin emerges from the shadows. What is he doing here so late?
“Your majesty, you finally return,” Lord Easterlin’s voice resonates through the cavernous space, a mixture of relief and urgency coloring his words as he strides purposefully toward Nickolas.
“Callum, what brings you here at this late hour?” Nickolas inquires, his tone measured yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.
“I have news of my daughter’s whereabouts, Your Majesty, and I couldn’t wait until morning to share it with you,” Lord Easterlin’s words send a jolt of shock through me. Why were they looking for Ember? Did something happen that I didn’t know about?
“Really?” Nickolas asks, excitement in his voice from Lord Easterlin’s news. A sense of betrayal claws at my insides, cutting deeper than any wound I’ve ever known. He expresses an emotion I never thought I would see him show, yet here it is, plain as day, etched across his features. All because of Ember-the woman who inflicted upon me such profound pain, nearly to the point of death.
The fragile threads of trust I had begun to weave towards Nickolas unravel in an instant, replaced by a seething anger that courses through my veins like wildfire. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as my blood boils with rage.
“As we speak, Your Majesty, my men are bringing her back this instant,” Lord Easterlin adds, and that’s it. With a frustrated huff, I turn to walk away, but Nickolas’s hand clasps onto mine, stopping me in my tracks. His brows furrow in confusion as he takes in the tears welling in my eyes, but Lord Easterlin pulls his attention away before he can question me about it.
“Your majesty,” Lord Easterlin calls, waiting for a reply.
“That’s good to hear, Callum,” Nickolas says, placing his other hand on Lord Easterlin’s shoulders. “I doubted trusting you with finding your daughter because of what will happen to her if she returns, but I’m glad you proved me wrong.”
I tug my hand out of his grasp, desperate to free myself from the suffocating grip of this emotional torture, but I halt at
Lord Easterlin’s words.
“My daughter has brought shame to my family by disobeying the crown. The only way we can right this wrong is with her head, and I shall give it to you,” Lord Easterlin’s words land like a blow, leaving me frozen in my spot, utterly speechless.
Did I misunderstand Nickolas? I never told him Ember kidnapped me, so the last thing I would deduce from their conversation was that they were looking to kill her, not wed her. Besides, Lord Easterlin is the one reporting news about her whereabouts. My first thought wouldn’t be that he was delivering his daughter on a silver plate. The very idea of him orchestrating his own daughter’s execution sent a chill down my spine, shattering any illusions of familial loyalty or compassion.
“Good to hear, Callum. I will be expecting your daughter on her knees in chains tomorrow in the throne room,” Nickolas states firmly, squeezing Lord Easterlin’s shoulder before guiding me away.
As we ascend to my room, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from Nickolas, my mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. I’m shocked to the core that he’s taking steps to ensure justice for me. It’s a gesture I never anticipated, and I’m left wondering what prompted him to act on my behalf. It certainly isn’t out of guilt for what happened to me, so what could it be? The question lingers, unanswered, as we reach my room.
Once inside, Nickolas cups my face in his palm, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. “Why were you crying? Did I hurt you earlier?” he asks, genuine concern etched into his features. I shake my head, unable to find the words to speak with the tangled mess of emotions swirling within me.
“Are you sure?” Nickolas presses, his gaze unwavering as he searches my eyes for any hint of deception. I nod, mustering a weak smile to reassure him.
“I’m fine,” I murmur, hoping he’ll drop it. There’s a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging inside me, and as much as it feels like cowardice, I’m not ready to confront them just yet. I just want to head to bed and sleep.
“Alright, sleep well. Go to bed,” he relents, finally releasing his gentle hold on my face.
I collapse onto my bed, burying my face into the sheets, muffling the frustrated noises that escape me. Why couldn’t my life be simple? One minute, I’m nursing a broken heart, convinced that he’s betrayed me. And the next, I’m thrown into a whirlwind of confusion by his actions. It’s enough to make me want to scream into my pillow in frustration. Why do things between us have to be so complicated?
With a heavy sigh, I drag myself up and head for the shower, hoping the warm water will wash away some of the turmoil raging inside me. But even as I slip beneath the comforting spray, my thoughts remain fixated on Nickolas and the changes I’ve observed in him. I can’t help but wonder what they mean and why they keep happening.
As I finally crawl back into bed, I know sleep will be elusive tonight. My mind is too busy turning over with possibilities, the uncertainties of what lies ahead. Eventually, I drift into a restless slumber.