His sorrowful gray eyes disappeared and I was alone once more. Heaving a sigh myself, I replaced the key at Ken’s belt and hurried out.
My muscles were stiff as I half walked and half ran down the unguarded hallway that led to the barred cells. There would be a great many guardsmen at the exit. But I had magic at my fingertips. I felt powerful, like I could get away with anything.
But any semblance of confidence deserted me when I stumbled into an armored figure.
Before I could scream, the guard clamped a gloved hand over my mouth. A metallic smell filled my nostrils. I kicked and twisted, but the arm wrapped around me refused to budge.
“It’s me.”
I stopped struggling and turned to my assailant. He had taken his helmet off. Even in the darkness of the dungeon, I knew those eyes. And that nose. And mouth. And every other part of the face that had haunted me for the past four days.
I slapped him.
Ash stumbled back as my palm met his cheek with a sickening crack.
I glared, my hand stinging. It took all my willpower not to cry. Even then, tears seeped out. “Why are you here?” I demanded, wiping my eyes furiously. “I thought you were finished with me.”
Ash flinched. “I—” He shook his head. “I’m here to rescue you. But it seems you’ve done a decent job yourself.”
I searched his face for any sign of deceit, but he looked earnest—even sorrowful—despite the red mark blooming on his face. I thought back to his passivity at my arrest. The distrust and betrayal in his eyes. Where were they now?
“Amarante—”
“This isn’t the place to talk,” I said coldly, hoping my tears weren’t as noticeable as they felt. There would be time for explanations later. I stuck out my arms. “Get on with it.”
A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he pulled out a length of rope and tied it around my wrists, tight enough to look convincing but loose enough not to hurt. I was immensely glad when he put his helmet back on. I didn’t want to see his face.
The grates overhead let in just enough of the fading daylight for us to navigate the rest of the dungeons. As we passed the endless hallways of open cells, I recalled the first time I had come here with Ash to question Captain Greenwood. It wasn’t long ago, yet so much had changed.
Ash stopped when we drew nearer to the exit. Two armed guards stood watch on either side. He stopped and unfastened his cloak. I was enveloped in his scent when he threw it around me.
“Just in case they won’t let you through,” he said quietly, pulling the hood over my head and fastening the drawstrings. His fingers paused. “Your eyes. They’re purple.”
“Yes, they are,” I snapped, turning my face away.
It seemed like he was going to say something else, but didn’t. He took the rope around my wrists and led me around the corner.
“Where you off to?” a guard asked when we approached the gates. Beyond, the short tunnel opened to the back of the east wing. Even the last bits of daylight were blinding to me.
“This one’s got a hearing,” Ash said in a deep voice, tilting his head to me. I kept my head down, making sure the hood hid my features.
The guard narrowed his eyes. “A hearing? The king has yet to return.”
Ash flipped a gold coin into the guard’s hand. “Indeed.”
He grunted and pushed open the gate, tucking the coin into his pocket as we passed. My heart pounded as we climbed the stairs out to the palace grounds. My lungs nearly wept from the fresh air. The paved path felt wonderfully smooth under the soles of my boots.
We trotted across the grounds, ducking whenever a servant or gardener appeared. Ash led me to a row of tall hedges across the pond we had unceremoniously fallen into. The sun had fully set, plunging the land into a purplish haze. A few swans were silhouetted on the water, flapping and bugling. I knew now they had been under Narcissa’s influence, but I still had no love for the creatures.
Ash pulled off his helmet and kicked it underneath a hedge. Heavy clunking followed as he did the same to the rest of his ill-fitting armor.
“You really like disguises, don’t you?” I said.
He paused. “Being a prince is very limiting,” he said.
“Being a witch is even more so.”
He straightened his shirt and met my eyes, his stare unwavering. “Yes,” he said. “I would imagine.”
I looked askance, suddenly finding the grass very interesting. I wanted to scream at him. What could he possibly mean? Why had he decided to believe me after falling for Narcissa’s lies?
“Olivia told me,” Ash said, answering my unasked question.
I looked up. “What?”
“She told me everything yesterday. Everything.” Ash’s voice was strained. He raked a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you trust me with the truth?”
“Because I couldn’t let you know I was a witch!” I exploded, clenching my fists. “And I was right. You didn’t want anything to do with me when you found out.”
Silence pervaded the air before he spoke. “Is that what you thought?” he asked quietly.
How dare he be so calm after what he’d done? The urge to scream at him resurfaced, but he spoke again before I could.
“First you somehow knew to search Peter. Then you ask Captain Greenwood for gold. At the soirée you stayed with Narcissa. Then I find you at an obscure snail shop at midnight with cuts all over your arms. And you went to the palace when you said you were going home. What was I supposed to think when Narcissa piled all those accusations against you? Don’t you see, Amarante? I couldn’t defend you because I didn’t know what you were hiding from me.”
I stared. Ash had been more observant than I thought, but he was right. I never
