Page 35 of #Resort Love
Leaving the library, I rounded the corner, grunting when the lithe body of a female ran into me. Looking down, Arianna glared at me, rubbing her nose. Arching a brow, I swallowed my growl, ready to excuse myself when an amusing thought formed. “If you’re looking for Ambrose, I just left him in the library,” I said coolly, fighting a smile.
“I have better things to do than look for Ambrose,” Arianna sneered. “Get out of my way, dog.”
My jaw clenched, but I shoved that insult aside when her eyes flicked to the library door. Smirking, I moved, letting her pass, giving her a dramatic bow as she went. I swallowed my laugh and continued walking down the hall. Ambrose was about to have an interesting night, and I hoped Arianna would burn him alive.
When I stopped in front of Sybil’s door, a part of me begged to knock, to check if she was okay. But I was still furious with her, furious with how she let Ambrose get so close to her. I was torn between wanting to throttle her, spending every moment warning her against him, and letting fate play her little games. But I knew, even if I spent every waking minute urging her to see reason, Sybil would not take those warnings to heart, not whenhetoyed with her emotions. Deciding not to knock, I set her things by the door.
Leaving the hallway behind, I entered my room, walking to the bookcase that blocked the hidden room and passageway. I pulled on the book that opened the bookcase and slipped through. My meeting with the rebels wasn’t for another two days, but with the timing of the soldier’s visit to Lowbrook, two days wouldn’t give them enough time to prepare, which meant I needed to meet withhimas soon as possible.
The meeting that pulled me away from Sybil earlier today did not go well. Ezra was on edge when we met to discuss Sybil’s training. According to him, Ambrose decided they would make a trip to Lowbrook, a village outside Volmire. Seeing as Ezra had just returned from Lowbrook on his latest round, he figured—as I did—that the trip was just a disguise. Officially, it was a search for rebels that may be camped close by. But we knew that some type of plan was being put into place.
With him ordering Sybil to join their search, every part of me itched to take her away—to take her someplace whereAmbrose would never find her again. But I knew that if I did, Sybil wouldn’t see it as me trying to help her, to protect her. I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat. Sybil was smart; however, she was still too wary of this world and her magic. She needed more training and Ambrose knew that,countedon that.
Breathing in the stale air of the passageway, I bristled, thinking back to yesterday, seeinghimsitting by the window. The clod knew being in the city was reckless, yet he showed up anyway, pretending his scarf was enough to hide him from the guards that patrolled the city.
I walked along the dark passage that led into an empty field near the back of the palace, annoyance from his foolishness trickling down my spine as I went. Pulling my hood up, I hastily made my way through the field into the dark, haunting forest I had warned Sybil of when we came, and eventually found myself in front of a once beautiful but now rusted gate.
Knocking once, then twice, and finally knocking once more, the gate slowly groaned open. Standing there, in the middle of the path, a brute of a man blocked my way, his arms crossed over his chest. Daggers adorned his belt, ready to be used, and the hilt of a sword rose behind him. His hair was black as night, but those crimson eyes glowed bright in the moonlight.
“You’re early. Our meeting isn’t until two days from now,” he grunted. My shoulders tensed at the deep rumbling of his voice.
“Yes, but there have been some developments that couldn’t wait that long,” I said, keeping my tone calm. Casual.
The silence stretched between us, neither of us making a move as I unblinkingly held his stare. A moment passed, followed by another, when suddenly he barked a laugh, crossingthe gate and pulling me into a hug, his large hand clapping against my back. I grinned, returning the action.
“It’s been a while, Kieran,” I teased before I frowned at him. “You shouldn’t have been in the city. He could have caught you.” My frown turned into a scowl when he waved me off, his face tight. Worry tugged on my heart for him. Last I heard, he was visiting the outer villages, giving out food and medicine while finding more faeries to join our cause. “I hope your mission went well,” I asked softly.
“As well as it could have gone, I suppose,” he said, sniffing, avoiding any eye contact. “Made it back in one piece, that’s all that counts.”
I stayed quiet, nodding thoughtfully, and followed Kieran into the camp toward the abandoned manor the rebels camped in, waving to those that knew me as we passed by. Studying the tightness in Kieran’s back, my jaw clenched. I knew better than to ask what had happened in the villages that made him act so reserved. Kieran and I had been close friends since our teenage years. As a boy, I had accompanied the queen during her visits to the villages. I was young and restless in those days, which drove her crazy. Exasperated, the queen would eventually throw me out of her meetings, telling me to make myself useful elsewhere.
During one of those trips, a farmer found me eating from one of his apple trees. After a good scolding, he made me help his son, Kieran, pick the rest of the ripened fruit. Ever since then, Kieran and I had been thick as thieves. I even convinced Queen Cassia to allow him to attend the school with me at the palace, against the advice of her former advisor and Ambrose’s father, Alister.
Finally reaching a dimly lit room inside the manor, we came to a table covered in maps of theouter villages. “So,” Kieran said, straightening the papers thrown about the table, “what important news do you have for us that couldn’t wait two more days?”
Sighing, I took a seat across from him. The room was empty except for Kieran and me. Looking to the door, I huffed a laugh when a shadow crouching low to the ground moved.
Kieran’s eyes followed mine and frowned. “Amara,” Kieran grumbled, rolling his eyes, though his tone was soft.
Giggling, a short, willowy girl burst through the door, followed by two others, Vivi and Orin. “Sit and be quiet,” Kieran gently ordered Amara.
As they took their seats, I cut to Kieran’s, my expression darkening as I swallowed. “He’s sending a group to Lowbrook in three days. From what my informant has said, he will be sending Arianna and Ezra, along with a few of their soldiers.”
Kieran cursed, and the others paled. Packing and moving the rebels away from Lowbrook would be difficult to do in just three days.
“That’s not all,” I said hesitantly. “Sybil will be joining them.” My jaw clenched tight. The rage I had pushed down surged through me and the table splintered down the middle. Kieran’s mouth tightened, giving me a look of warning.
“Is that bad?” Amara asked quietly, her eyes nervously shifting between me and Kieran.
Shoving that rage back down, I gave her a small apologetic smile. “I don’t know,” I offered truthfully. “He is going out of his way to get close to her and she’s not listening to my warnings. He has something planned for her, though what that is, I’m not sure. Neither does my informant. All I know is that she’s having trouble controlling her magic. Her emotions are all over the place, which makes her dangerous. I have a feeling that he will use that against her. He has already offered her a bargain once,which she refused. I doubt he will let that slide. I believe hewantsher to feel unstable, to be afraid of her magic and what she can do.”
Kieran nodded, his features stiff while quickly thinking of a plan. “Viv, tell the camp to start packing up. Have them leave by tomorrow night and move them to the other side of the mountain until the soldiers leave. Don’t let them dawdle. Orin, get to Lowbrook as quickly as you can. Remain unseen and warn Silas of the soldier's visit, along with them bringing a newcomer. Tell him that she is potentially dangerous and to tread lightly around her. Tell any rebels in the village to hide or lay low.”
Standing quickly, Vivi and Orin bowed and left the room.
“What can I do?” Amara’s voice was soft, uncertain.
Sighing, Kieran tapped a finger on the table, his face softening. Amara was the youngest of the rebels, having joined their group a few years ago as an orphan after an uprising in one of the villages. She became fast friends with Orin and Vivi and promptly wormed her way into Kieran’s heart. He didn’t stand a chance against her bubbly personality, reminding him too much of better days. She was quick and stealthy and often got into trouble in the camp, but Kieran didn’t like her running around with the other rebels.
