Page 78 of Crown of Light and Ashes
Chapter Twenty-two
The Betrayal
Nesilhan
I WAKE TO pain and darkness. My head throbs with each pulse of my heart, and the metallic taste of blood coats my tongue. Disorientation clouds my thoughts as I try to piece together what happened. The palace corridor. The struggle. The cloth pressed against my face.
Someone took me.
Forcing my eyes open, I blink against a dim firelight that reveals rough wooden walls. I'm in a small cottage, sparse and utilitarian—a single room with a hearth, table, and bed where I now lie. My limbs feel heavy. When I try to call my light magic, only the faintest flicker responds before dying away. The sedative has dampened my abilities but not eliminated them entirely;I can feel the magic there, just muted anddifficult to grasp.
Testing my muscles, I push myself to a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain that lances through my right arm. A deep cut traces from my elbow to wrist, blood dried in a flaking crust around the wound. I remember fighting my attacker in the palace corridor, but the details remain hazy.
A shadow moves near the hearth.
"Don't try to stand," a familiar voice commands. "The sedative hasn't fully worn off."
Damir steps into the firelight, his face partially obscured by shadows. My assigned guard. The man who was supposed to protect me.
"Why?" I manage, my voice rough from disuse. "Why did you bring me here?" I'm growing more alert and studying him as he steps closer.
He doesn't answer immediately; instead, moves to pour water from a pitcher into a wooden cup. His movements are precise, controlled, but there's a tension in his shoulders I haven't seen before. When he approaches, I notice something different in his eyes—a coldness, an anger that makes me shrink back despite myself.
"Drink," he says, offering the cup.
I hesitate, eyeing it suspiciously.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't bother with poison," he says flatly. "You'd already be dead."
Reluctantly, I accept the cup, the cool water soothing my parched throat. As I drink, I study his face, searching for answers. I want to ask why he took me, but I start with something simple.
"Where are we?" I ask, setting the empty cup beside me on the bed.
"Far enough from the palace that Kaan's shadows can't reach us easily," he replies, moving back to lean against the rough-hewn table. "A hunting cottage abandoned decades ago. No one will find us here."
"Us? So you're what—my kidnapper? My jailor?" I swing my legsover the side of the bed, fighting the wave of dizziness that follows. "Why, Damir? I thought you were loyal to the Shadow Court."
A bitter laugh escapes him, hollow and laced with something that sounds almost like grief. "Loyal to the Shadow Court? No. Never that."
"Then who?" I press, noting the way to the door, measuring the distance against my weakened state. "Who are you loyal to?"
He watches me calculate my escape, a small smile playing at his lips. "Don't bother. You wouldn't make it three steps before collapsing, and even if you could run, there's nowhere to go. We're surrounded by the Dead Forest. Without a guide, you'd be lost forever."
I straighten my spine, refusing to show fear. "You didn't answer my question."
"Who am I loyal to?" He repeats, tilting his head in a gesture that strikes me as strangely familiar, though I can't place why. "I was loyal to you, Nesi. Only ever to you."
The nickname sends a chill through me. Damir has never called me that—only ever "Lady Nesilhan" with formal deference. Only those closest to me used that name: my brother, my father, and...
"You don't recognize me?" he asks, something vulnerable flickering across his face. "Look closer. Really look at me."
I stare at him, confusion giving way to unease. Had I met him before arriving at the Shadow Court? No, my memory doesn't seem to have cataloged him. Yet there's something in the way he holds himself now, something in the cadence of his speech that echoes with painful familiarity.
"I don't understand," I say carefully. "I know who you are. You're Damir, assigned to my personal guard by Kaan himself."
"That's the vessel," he says, stepping closer. "Look at what's inside."
As he comes nearer, firelight catches his eyes, and for just amoment, I see a flash of amber overtaking their natural dark color. My breath catches in my throat.
