Page 65 of Betraying Korth

I slumped back, more defeated than I’d ever felt in my life. What purpose did I have now? The entire world turned hazy and blurred as I again zoned out of everything going on around me. I couldn’t even muster the energy to try to deter Tess fromteaching Peter to read. From the quick snatches of conversation that occasionally permeated my stupor, I could tell he had a quick mind.

Was that the only thing in my future? Reading while I waited to hear my family’s fate, knowing I was unable to warn them? I didn’t even have the luxury of visitors like Peter did. He punctuated their reading lesson by making anything that Tess handed him through the bars—bookmarks, a spoon from his last meal, and a silver coin—disappear with clever sleight of hand. Tess’s mouth hung open in amazement each time, earning her a few smiles that almost looked genuine from him. If I hadn’t known he was a hardened criminal with a knack for manipulating people, I could have pictured him as a doting older brother.

“Well done, Peter!” Tess chirped after a lengthy lesson during which they read pages back and forth to each other. “I think you’re ready to move up to a little more difficult of reading material. What do you want me to bring tomorrow?”

“What other books do you have?” he asked, sounding far too comfortable talking to Tess for my liking. No prisoner would ever have any positive feelings toward his captor, or else I would have ventured to say that they sounded like friends. I could only imagine what horrors would await my family and friends back in Ebora. Myself too, if I was ever shipped back on a criminal transport boat.

“All sorts,” she answered eagerly. “History, adventures, romances, myths and legends, even cookbooks.”

“Any battle strategy ones?”

“Lots of those. Korth sometimes studies them, but he reads the ones on policy and laws more often. Or bridges.”

“I’d be interested to read some battle strategy ones. Or some adventure stories. Just nothing with pirates. I’m somewhat averse to those.”

“Deal! I’ll bring them tomorrow after my harp lesson.”

“And I will wait for you right here until then. I promise.”

Tess laughed. “Good night, Peter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stopped outside my cell. “Good night, Od—Dahlia. I’ll see you tomorrow, too. Do you want me to bring you a book as well?”

I shook my head, mind still full of the fact that Korth and Odette hadn’t gotten married. I didn’t want to read. I had spent so long plotting and scheming every waking minute that I didn’t know what else to do with myself. How was I supposed to scheme my way out of a locked iron cell, sneak out of town, and traverse an ocean without a ship and without being detected? It was just as easy as instigating a civil war now that my enemies knew my plans.

Tess bobbed on the balls of her feet outside my cell door. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you need another pillow?”

I shook my head. “Just tell Korth to be safe; I really don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Hey.”Peter Pan’s voice, devoid of its usual mischievous tone, pierced through my stupor after Tess left. “Don’t give up.”

Slowly, I rolled my head around to gaze at him. He was leaned up against the bars separating our cells, staring at me with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“How do you suggest I do that?”

“Think happy thoughts.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Everyone does if they think hard enough.”

“I don’t want to.”

Peter Pan stared hard at me for a long minute. “Many things can be taken from you when you’re in prison, but no one can take your thoughts. It’s only when you let someone else have control over those that you finally lose.”

Anger flared red-hot. Did this stupid little boy think it was just that simple? That I couldchooseto be happy? He had no idea. “Thoughts won’t get me out of this cell. Thoughts won’t free the people who are enslaved in Ebora. Thoughts won’t make Korth—” I broke off, unwilling to discuss my feelings for Korth with anyone. If only those could be buried so deep that they would never resurface again.

“No, but if you wallow in misery, you’ll never be of use to anyone, including yourself. So you had some bad things happen to you. Everyone does. You can either have a bad life because of it, or a good life in spite of it, but it’s your life; live it however you want.”

“Ican’tlive it however I want. I’m stuck here and always will be.” I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes.

“Do you want to escape?”

I lifted my head and shot him a withering stare. “No,” I drawled. “Being locked in a prison cell is my life’s ambition. Not all of us can justthink happy thoughtsand have it magically make things better.”

Peter smirked and reached down to pull two small items from beneath his bunk. They looked like the soup spoons we were sometimes given, but he had shaved both the metal handles into tiny, thin rods. One had a sharp point while the other looked like a tiny hook.

“But thinking happy thoughts gives your mind the freedom to plan the future rather than wallowing in self-pity. Without hope, despair and learned helplessness traps people better than chains ever could.”

With a surreptitious glance up and down the corridor, he reached his arms through the iron bars to the lock that faced the opposite wall. Peter closed his eyes in concentration, inserted the picks into the lock, and began fiddling with it.

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