Page 16 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

I huffed a laugh at my thoughts. If only fire burned half so hotly as the woman in my quarters.

Chapter8

Ilya

Two young guardsmen escorted me to breakfast the next morning. They lacked the strength and gristle of seasoned warriors. We’d heard that Ryszard had recruited many young men and women into his ranks—those who wanted to serve and even those of his people who didn’t. War required soldiers, and he’d refused to take the armies of his captives, taking the weapons of those who survived battle instead. A smart move. No soldier of Sorrena would have bowed to his command. The governors and spies he left behind in the city-states he conquered saw that local armies were disbanded. No training. No weapons. And certainly no rallying against him. That would earn death for the offending, and quite possibly for the city-state’s honored guest.

Lady Elin met us just outside the dining hall.

“Ilya!” She rushed to me, her long, blonde hair fluttering behind her. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back last night. I asked the guards, but they wouldn’t tell me much, and I just…” She wrung her hands together.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “I just got a little lost after dinner and stumbled into a restricted hallway.”

Elin’s hand flew to cover her open mouth. Her blue eyes widened. My small offense was something the sheltered girl would never consider.

The two guards behind me waited patiently, or so I assumed from the lack of commands or other comments. However, this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have around prying ears.

“Come on, I’ll explain over breakfast.” I waved her toward the open double doors just a few steps away.

The scrape of silverware on dinner plates met my ears, along with the scratch of wooden benches on stone. People milled about as they ate, the scent of fatty meats and roasted potatoes heavy in the air.

Ryszard held meals as communal affairs. His captains, advisors, higher-ranking guards, andguestsall ate together at long tables in the great room. We served ourselves from large dishes passed up and down the tables. The only advantage of the often-rancorous meals was that we could occasionally talk without having every word overheard—just every other.

A few whistles and lewd comments floated my way as soon as we entered. My cheeks flamed hot as the fires burning in the hearths on either side of the large room. Elin looked even more uncomfortable, her face turning pale as we advanced to our traditional table. A few other captives already waited there for us.

Only three people had been present when Lucien ordered me to his quarters the night before. We’d passed some guards in the hall who might have made assumptions, but I had a suspicion about who’d spread rumors. One day I’d gut Orson like a fish for that, if for nothing else.

“Lady Ilya.” Gabriel’s grey eyes were full of sorrow as I took a seat across from him, Elin at my side. Gabriel had once again donned the role of honorary uncle, both to Elin and me. His brother’s sole heir after the loss of his brother’s only child, he was well suited to be a presence of calm and reason. Further, he seemed to enjoy his fatherly role, perhaps because of the child-sized hole in his own life—not that Elin and I were children anymore.

“I got lost,” I said. He’d know something was wrong already, perceptive as he was. Besides, he’d helped develop my plan and knew what I would attempt last night. He took risks for his people too, as did Fernand at his side. “Unfortunately, I ran into some unexpected company.”

Fernand bit back a curse and ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair.

“Then the rumors are true.” Gabriel’s shoulders hunched. His greying head shook.

“What do they say?” I had to know for certain.

Both men glanced at Elin. I understood their concern. If Orson spread the rumor, as I assumed he did, it likely would make the poor girl faint.

“Never mind. I think I know, and it’s not true.”

Gabriel breathed an audible sigh of relief. “If that had happened, I wouldn’t forgive myself. I should have gone instead.”

I dropped my voice to a low whisper and leaned forward on the table. “I chose to involve myself. I know the risks. Anything that happens is not your fault.”

“Still…” Gabriel frowned, adding to the fine lines marring his features.

I cut him off with a shake of my head before I slopped a spoonful of what I assumed was an egg and potato mixture onto my plate. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll have to wait and try again.” They’d keep a closer eye on that door, at least for a while, but time and boredom had a way of making people complacent. “Also, I’m to stay in Lucien’s quarters until he decides I’m innocent and not up to any mischief.”

Elin’s spoon clattered onto her plate, her face white as a sheet.

If the worst had happened, she may never have recovered on my behalf.

“He didn’t do anything. Barely touched me. Certainly not what they imply.” I tilted my head toward the table of men that made the crude remarks. Nearby guards and other hostages eyed us curiously, though nothing we spoke of was a secret. In another day or two, likely everyone would know.

“How long will you stay there?” Elin asked.

I shrugged, finally swallowing a spoonful of the unappetizing food that tasted of soil and grit. Had no one washed the potatoes properly? The food in Zhine simply couldn’t compare with the fresh fruits and fish we often ate at home.

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