Page 17 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“Perhaps…” Gabriel leaned forward. “It could be an insightful stay?”

I frowned, swallowing down the thick breakfast. “Not so far. There’s nothing of note outside his personal room.” I’d checked. “And I—” A thought struck me like waves in a storm, crashing against my mind.

“What is it?”

I couldn’t get in Lucien’s room right now, locked as it was, but what if I could? Breaking in might not work. No doubt he’d notice that, and I’d be in worse trouble than now, but if I earned myself an invitation… “What if I made the rumors true?” I whispered. Fernand had suggested as much the day we were outside of the castle, but I’d thought the notion ridiculous. Swaying guards when I saw them for moment? Unlikely. But sharing quarters with someone lent more time and far more possibilities.

Gabriel’s fingers drummed on the table as his lips pursed.

Fernand relaxed in his chair, looking me over appraisingly. “See, you liked my idea after all.”

I knew the moment Elin caught on. “You can’t mean to—” she practically yelled, catching far too much attention before she clamped her hand over her mouth.

“I do.” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “It might be just the break we need.”

I hated the man. He disgusted me. But, on my terms, it might not be terrible. I’d pay that price to find some weakness, some information we could use to our favor. Who would know Ryszard and his strategies better than his first captain? Besides, I didn’t need to go all the way, just far enough to get into his room and get him to let his guard down. And if it took everything…well, then it did.

A wicked grin tugged at my lips as I dug into my breakfast with gusto. “Trust me on this. It will take time, but I can do it.” While we waited on the guards outside the workroom to lose their sharp edge, I’d take steps toward a new target.

Chapter9

Ilya

Two evenings later, I reclined on the leather sofa in Lucien’s sitting room after dinner. Burnt orange and faded pink light spilled in from the open balcony doors, catching the gold clasps of my thin, sleeveless dress. In Sorrena, I would have worn a tight underdress, something to further disguise and conceal the peaks of my nipples where they poked against the thin material, especially in this cooler climate. A fur cape as well, perhaps. Tonight, I didn’t bother. I wanted sultry and seductive. I needed every advantage, even if the cooling air raised gooseflesh across my skin.

I rubbed my bare feet against the smooth leather as I stretched and adjusted the fall of white fabric about my legs. The little dinner I’d eaten rolled uneasily in my stomach.

A lady and future leader of this city should not parade about like a harlot.I could practically hear Mother’s criticism of my idea.A future leader must respect herself if others are to respect her as well.

Every day had been a lesson. How to lead, to rule, to earn respect, to be balanced and fair. Sorrena must always come first.

All for Sorrena.

Those words had been drilled into me for longer than I could remember.

But Mother wasn’t here, nor could she move against Ryszard without signing my death warrant. So, it was up to me to free our city. I was born to rule and lead, after all.

The last rays of sunset trailed out of the room, leaving me in chilly darkness broken only by the flickering wall sconces illuminating the room with a soft glow.

“Where are you?” I grumbled. If he’d returned to his rooms the last two nights, it had been late, long after I’d retired to sleep.

The guards had brought me straight here after dinner again, as Lucien instructed, yet the man himself had yet to make an appearance. Unless I’d missed him and he already hid away in his room? I’d tried the door to his room as I had every night, but as always, it didn’t budge.

The lock of the main doors clicked.

I flew into action, assuming my practiced pose with one bare arm draped across the back of the cushion and my legs dangling gracefully from the side. My body reclined at the optimal angle to show off my assets while looking relaxed and inviting. Or so I imagined. This wasn’t exactly something I’d practiced before.

“Good evening,” I pitched my voice higher, giving a soft lilt to my words, so at odds with the slimy feelings sliding under my skin like seaweed.

At first, he didn’t acknowledge me. He crossed the room, head tilted upward as if lost in thought. But after a cursory glance in my direction, he halted mid-step, metal armor locking up with his body. His lips formed a thin line, just visible through the slit in his helm. Only his fingers moved as they toyed with the pommel of the dagger strapped to his waist.

Eternity passed before he responded, words tight as his frame. “Do you need something?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting against the frown aching to break free.

“Perhaps some company?” I stroked the back of the sofa, leaned forward, and scooted my legs back to offer him room.

“So you can stab me in the neck with a knife you’ve squirreled away from the dining hall?”

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