Page 98 of Merciless Prince
I closed my eyes and tilted my head the other way. When the doctor came back to ask Killian some more questions, I quickly spat the tablet out and slipped it under my pillow. Then I rolled back over and looked at Killian. “Goodnight,” I said, making the word sound as slurred as possible.
I lay in my fake slumber for hours, listening to every little sound around me—Killian playing on his phone in the chair across from my bed, the doctor leaving for the day, the night nurse treating a man who’d fallen over in a hallway and grazed his arm, the radio playing soft music in the small waiting area.
Somewhere around ten o’clock, the lights in the clinic switched off, apart from a lamp near the nurse’s desk. I thought Killian might finally leave, but he stubbornly remained in the chair. I kept sneaking peeks at him through heavily-lidded eyes, wishing his phone battery would die, but every time I looked, he was still there, reading something on the screen.
Dammit.Everything had gone so well until he decided to stay in the clinic. I should’ve known he wouldn’t leave me alone for a second.
I could still do this, though. He had to sleep sometime, so I just had to force myself to stay awake longer than him.
Several more hours passed, as slowly as molasses pouring from a vat. My legs and arms tingled with restlessness, and my mind started to drift off into a fantasy world. I bit the inside of my cheek to snap myself back into reality and opened my eyes to peek at Killian again.
He was slumped in the chair with his eyes closed and his head tilted back against the wall, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. I let out a light cough to see if he was just pretending to be asleep to catch me out, but he didn’t stir.
I waited another few minutes, just to be sure. Then, moving as quietly as a mouse, I slipped out of bed and padded down the short hall. The night nurse was still at her desk, working on some sort of newspaper puzzle.
“I need the bathroom,” I murmured in a sleepy tone, rubbing at my eyes. I knew she wouldn’t say no to me. After all, as far as she knew, I was just a sick staff member who happened to be friendly with the owners. She had no way of knowing that I was actually Killian’s prisoner.
“Oh, of course,” she said in a hushed tone. She pointed to the right. “It’s just down there. Do you need help getting there?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m okay.”
She smiled and returned her attention to her puzzle.
I walked down the hallway to the right, turning my head over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure the nurse’s eyes were still on her paper. Then I quickly ducked into the hall on the left and headed out of the clinic, breathing a massive sigh of relief.
I turned back again a moment later to make sure no one had followed me. The hallway was empty and silent.
Giddy with hope, I crept through the cold castle corridors until I found the entrance to the dungeon. Now that it was accessible to tourists again, there was a large sign on the door which stated the opening hours and rules, along with a few short paragraphs of information about the history and architecture of the place.
“Shit,” I muttered as I rattled the doorhandle. I should’ve known it would be locked at night.
I squinted down at the lock. I figured it might just be a good replica, but it looked exactly like an original padlock from the nineteenth century—rustic iron with an engraved crest and a large slit in the middle for an old-fashioned key.
If it was as old as it looked, I could probably smash it with a hammer until it gave way. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a hammer.
I blew out a frustrated sigh. I had to go through the dungeon to escape the castle, because I knew every exterior door in the place would have security guards patrolling nearby. Besides, even if I managed to sneak through one of the exits without being seen, I had no way to get off the island from there. I didn’t know how to hotwire a car, so I couldn’t make a speedy escape across the bridge, and if I tried walking, I’d be spotted in no time.
I peered around the hall, looking for something heavy. There was an upright medieval suit of armor on display a few feet away from the dungeon door, and one of the fake knight’s metal hands held a short replica sword.
Furrowing my brow, I stepped over to the knight to see if I could somehow get the sword out of his hand. It was carefully slotted through a gap in the curled fingers, so I was able to slowly pry it out.
The metal part of the sword was useless—it wasn’t even remotely sharp or heavy—but the hilt was made of thick metal. Lips flattening with grim determination, I headed back to the dungeon door, lifted the sword, and smashed the hilt down on the padlock.
There was a heavy clanging sound, but it didn’t break. “Shit,” I muttered, whipping my head around to make sure no one had heard me.
The halls remained mercifully silent. The security guards were obviously patrolling elsewhere. That made sense. After all, who would try to breakintoa dungeon?
I smashed the hilt down on the padlock again and again, checking each time to make sure no one was coming. On the fifth hit, the padlock finally twisted and broke, and I was able to open the door.
I glanced behind me one more time to make sure no one was watching me from the shadows. Then I slipped down the steps and headed into the dungeon.
It smelled a lot nicer than I remembered, and the floor wasn’t as grimy and dusty anymore. The castle staff must’ve been forced to clean it up for the tourists. Small yellow-orange lights had been installed along the edges, too, where the candles used to be.
I walked over to the inky underground stream on the right side of the space and followed it all the way to the far end of the dungeon. There was a large hole carved in the stone wall for the water to flow through.
I had a strong intuitive feeling that the castle grotto was right on the other side.
I took a deep breath and immersed myself in the cold, murky water. Then I gritted my teeth, ducked my head under the surface, and swam through the hole.
