Page 106 of Ransomed to the World
Without another word, he strode away and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd. Being surrounded by so many phantoms was overwhelming, especially since she used to believe she was the only one left.
To find so many still alive was amazing…and if the way they were looking at her was any indication, incredibly sad. They saw her as nothing more than a servant. She edged her way around the crowd, not wanting to be in the center of them without someone to protect her back.
People slammed into her as if they didn’t see her, a splash of darkness spilling over onto her every time—a test to see how much she could take without crumbling. Not willing to give them any satisfaction, she smiled and swallowed it all down, the magic burning along her bones as she dragged it out of the spells, not giving them a chance to land.
They expected her to be weak and seemed disappointed when she didn’t fall to the ground writhing in pain. She barely resisted the urge to push back at them, but Edgar’s warning to keep her abilities hidden rang in her head.
More than one person looked horrified when she got too close, like she was a dog that had just rolled in shit. She found it amusing. Since it was the only fun she was going to have today, she decided to follow a few of them around just to aggravate them.
But there were so many, it got old fast.
She scanned the crowd again. While they were all phantoms, a third of them were…altered.
Then she understood.
They were branded.
Elites were gathered in the middle, milling about in order to see and be seen. Gathered around the perimeter of the room were the others, the less desirables. Their outfits weren’t as refined…still polished, but not as dazzling. Some preened and strutted around, trying to gain attention, others were clearly there under obligation and wished they could be anywhere else.
She could sympathize.
As she made it to the edge of the crowd, she breathed a sigh of relief…when a man spoke in her ear.
“So we meet again,” Cedwyn murmured, then offered her a glass of sparkling wine.
Annora hesitated, but his strained smile showed that he might actually dislike being there as much as her—if that was possible. She accepted the glass gratefully. “Thank you.”
He gave a murmur of acknowledgment. “You looked like you need it.”
She snorted at him, lifting her glass to cover her grimace. “You have no idea.”
He gave her his first genuine smile. “I’ve heard that you’re Daxion’s favorite and going to succeed him as his heir.”
“That would happen when hell freezes over.” Annora snorted. “I’ve also heard that I’m the runt of the family, and he’s taking pity on me by taking me into his home.”
“Half the people here are hoping you bring down House Daxion, and the others are hoping you can unseat him from the council. None think you earned it or that you can handle it. They’re just waiting to swoop in and pick over your bones.” Cedwyn swirled the wine around in his glass, surveying the crowd.
When a powerful spell crashed into her back, Annora nearly staggered. She gritted her teeth, struggling to swallow the pain down. Cedwyn winced in sympathy, but otherwise, neither of them acknowledged what was happening.
Rage simmered through the connection, the guys literally experiencing every blow, and she quickly shut it down. She didn’t need the added distraction, and they didn’t need the additional worry.
She’d withstood much worse when she was younger. This was just a different kind of pain. As she breathed through the last of it, she gave Cedwyn a strained smile. “Not that anyone would believe it, but I want nothing fromhimbut my freedom.”
“You might be surprised at how many of us wish for the same.” Pain lurked in his eyes, and she wondered how many times he had suffered the same type of attention from the elites. “If it helps, they do this to everyone they consider weaker, anyone they think they can step on to prove themselves better.”
People strolled past, not bothering to conceal that they were studying her. “Are you sure you want to be seen standing next to me? Consorting with the enemy? I’m a pariah. An abomination. You might gain a reputation.”
A familiar face in the crowd made her pause.
The captain from the ship.
Only he was not the same man. His scruff was gone, his ragamuffin clothes replaced by dapper finery. He executed a perfect bow toward them, then disappeared into the crowd.
Confirming what she suspected—Cedwyn was working with the rebellion, his position precarious at best. If the elites caught him, she had no doubt they’d torture him to give up the other members of the rebellion, then banish him to the dead zone for betraying them.
Annora took comfort at having an ally in the room for all of a second before her cynical nature kicked in. Were they there to keep watch over her, or make their own move? They wanted her powers as much as Daxion—both believing she was the key to claiming victory. But she had no intention of letting the captain or Cedwyn interfere, not with the lives of her men in the balance.
“Cedwyn…you need to let things here play out.” She brought up her drink to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. “You mustn’t interfere.”
