Page 54 of Destiny Redeemed
My face twisted into an ugly sneer, eyes narrowing to slits. “What do you want in return?” I hissed, praying he wouldn’t ask for the one thing I feared.
Gareth’s laugh quickly turned into a wet, hacking cough. Blood speckled his lips as he grinned. “Now that’s the Lady Ilyana I know.”
“Cut the nonsense,” I snapped, my patience already wearing thin. “Tell me what you want in exchange for keeping your mouth shut about my father’s involvement.”
“Straight to the point,” Gareth mocked, wiping blood from his chin. “Not even a ‘hello, how are you doing?’ So much for working for your father all these years.”
“Those years you spent plotting behind his back,” I corrected. “Now tell me what you want before I leave you to rot.”
Every second wasted was a second closer to Lennox’s return.
Gareth’s expression turned serious. “I want out of here. You’re going to ensure my freedom.”
I sighed. Of course, that’s what he wanted. Why had I prayed for anything else? “And how exactly am I supposed to accomplish that?”
“You’re clever. You’ll figure it out.” His tone shifted, becoming deadly serious. “You have four days, Lady Ilyana. Four days, or I tell your precious prince everything about your father’s dealings with the Red Cross.”
Something snapped inside me. Before I could think, my hand shot between the bars, fingers wrapping around his throat. “Don’t you dare threaten me,” I snarled, yanking him forward until his face smashed against the cold iron.
His good eye widened in shock, but I tightened my grip.
“Listen carefully,” I whispered, my voice trembling with rage. “I will provide you with funds to disappear from Aetheria forever. That’s more than you deserve. But if you deceive me again, I will personally ensure they find pieces of you under Lake Calista. Do we understand each other?”
I released him abruptly. A flicker of satisfaction coursed through me as he collapsed to the ground, gasping and clutching his throat.
“Four days,” he wheezed, looking up at me with disgust and a hint of fear in his swollen eyes. “And Lady Ilyana? He’s coming for all of you. Red isn’t working alone.”
With that ominous warning, we emerged from the dank corridors of the dungeon; the cloying stench of mildew and despair clung to my skin like an unwelcome embrace. Lennox’s questioning gaze bore into me as we walked, clearly searching for any sign of distress.
I looked like a wilted flower. All gloomy and sad.
“My lady,” he ventured cautiously, “did you… manage to learn anything new from Gareth?”
I looked up at him from my slightly hunched posture, feeling dead inside. All my anger and bravado had drained away the moment I left the prison. “Nothing of use, I’m afraid,” I said in a flat voice. “The man’s as stubborn as a mule.”
Lennox’s expression softened, a hint of sympathy creeping into his usually stern demeanor. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Even seasoned interrogators like Prince Anderic and myself have struggled to get every ounce of information out of him. It was unfair to expect results from someone like you… vastly inexperienced.”
I didn’t say anything.Let him come to a comfortable conclusion on his own.
At least he wouldn’t suspect what really happened there. If only he knew the thoughts currently swirling through my mind – escape routes, bribes, and the distinct possibility of shoving Gareth off a cliff once this was all over.
We fell into an uncomfortable silence as we made our way back through the winding palace corridors. My mind raced, plotting and scheming. How the hell was I supposed to orchestrate a prison break in four days? And without alerting Anderic or his annoyingly observant guard dog?
As we rounded a corner, a familiar voice rang out, shattering my internal panic.
“Ilyana! There you are!”
I looked up to see Rosalind striding towards us, her riding boots clicking against the polished floor. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she exclaimed, waving her hand.
I raised an eyebrow at Rosalind, taking in her flushed face and the distinct scent of horse and fresh air that clung to her. Her hair was windswept in a way that somehow looked elegant rather than messy.Of course.
“Well, someone’s in an unusually good mood,” I remarked. “Where have you been off to?”
Rosalind’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she gestured dramatically at her outfit. “Can’t you tell?” Her leather ridingbreeches and fitted jacket were splattered with mud at the hem. “Or has your recent brush with death affected your powers of observation?”
“You went riding,” I stated flatly. “How very thrilling.”
