Page 43 of A Dagger in the Ivy (Blade Bound #1)

C Hapter

I awake in a nest of warmth, cocooned in Dante’s arms. My body still tingles in the most glorious way. I’m almost afraid to move and break the spell, but I know I cannot stay here. I don’t even know if anyone has discovered I’m not in my room back at Ivystone. If the king finds out I’ve run off, I fear what he will do to Nadya, my uncle, and the people of Delasurvia.

Dante’s eyes are closed when I look up at him, and I’m tempted to run my fingertips along his long, dark lashes. I would love to stay here in his bed all day, to do what we did last night—and once more in the middle of the night after I shifted closer to him and brushed my hand against his hard cock, rousing us both into a heady act of ecstasy—but it’s urgent that I return to the castle. I should have returned this morning, but the cozy bubble Dante and I have created has been holding me captive, making it impossible to pull myself away.

I need to get up and leave now. If I’m lucky, I can get back before anyone thinks to look for me. I know Nadya will hold off anyone who might ask for me, but that can only work for so long.

I slide my arm out from under his back, but when I lift my head from his bicep, he stirs. His gaze travels over my face, sparking a smile on his lips. He draws me closer until our forms are flush, and my body immediately reacts. Heat seeps into my core, threatening to burn away my thoughts of leaving.

Fuck, I want to stay. But I can’t.

“Dante, I have to go back.”

He cups the back of my head, leaning his mouth closer to mine. “I want you to stay.”

I can feel his erection seeking me out, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have to not touch him, stroke him, guide him into me. “You have no idea how tempting that idea is. But I have to go before they discover I’m gone.”

He pushes my hair back, his lips brushing against mine. “You can’t marry him.”

I close my eyes, my fingers curling against his skin. “I know. But I need to come up with a plan. And until I do, I have to pretend. I have to keep up a ruse to protect Delasurvia.”

He closes his mouth over mine. The kiss starts out soft then grows greedier, and I feel like he’s trying to hold on to me for as long as he can before I go. His hands move over my body, and though it tears at my heart, I push back from him.

“Dante…”

“I know.” He rubs his nose over mine, his lips pulled into a frown.

I’m so close to giving in, but I steel myself and sit up. My clothes are scattered all over the floor, and I have to search and bend to gather each piece. After I pull on my underwear and chemise, I glance at Dante, who lays with his hands propped behind his head as he grins at me.

His amused look makes me laugh. “What?”

He tilts his head. “Just enjoying the view.”

Though I’m tickled by his playfulness, I can’t fight the gravity of our situation. I pull up my trousers. “Do you think there’s a chance to save your brother from the tsar’s influence?”

He sighs and throws the covers off. My eyes do a slow drift over his magnificent body as he slides his legs over the side of the bed and starts to get dressed.

“I want to believe there’s a chance. He seems to be in pretty deep, and apparently the tsar has been making him promises that Torbin finds irresistible. It’s going to take a lot to convince him to walk away from that.”

I adjust my blouse, tucking it in. “And if we can’t?”

Dante buttons his shirt, a grave look on his face. “I don’t know. But we have to try. I don’t want to give up on him.”

Dante’s resolve is admirable. His refusal to give up on Torbin speaks to the depth of his loyalty. It’s one of the qualities I’ve come to respect about him, this unyielding hope that there’s still good in his brother. But deep down, I’m not so sure Torbin can be saved. Though the doubt gnaws at me, I keep these thoughts to myself, not wanting to crush the hope that keeps Dante going. He’s already carrying so much.

I return at noon, guiding Thora carefully through the narrow, shaded paths that lead through the forest to the stables. It’s a familiar, secret trail that Torbin and I used to use when we were kids. I’m not sure many know about it, because I never see guards patrolling the area. Thora’s hooves are muffled by the thick underbrush, her dark coat blending with the shadows.

My mind and heart are filled with apprehension as I try to figure out how to unravel this web I’ve been caught in. Dante stayed at his manor but said he would also try to come up with some kind of feasible plan. I can only hope that between the two of us, an idea sparks.

As Thora and I near the stables, I pause, peering around the corner to ensure no one is nearby. Once I’m sure no one is around, I lead her into the cool, dim space, where she nickers softly, sensing the quiet urgency in my movements. I rub her neck, calming her as I quickly unbuckle her saddle and bridle, storing them out of sight. I fetch water for her and give her a final pat, leaving her to rest.

As I slip out the stable door, I bump into someone. My heart lurches into my throat, and my stomach twists. But my breath returns to me when I realize it’s Jasper, the stablehand who looks after Thora .

He eyes me curiously, but his expression softens as he recognizes me. “Your Highness, you’re back.”

“Yes.” I hold a hand to my neck, registering only now that Torbin or his men could have questioned Jasper and discovered that my horse had been gone the entire night. “Jasper, did anyone notice that Thora wasn’t in the stable last night?”

“No one besides me, Your Highness. No one visited the stable since yesterday afternoon.”

My heart lightens with relief. It occurs to me that the stables and stablehands could be useful to me in my time of need. In lieu of riding to the Garrison myself, I could send someone to deliver a message, to get help. But I don’t know if anyone is able to pull off the job.

At this point, I’m desperate and have to take a chance. “Jasper, do you ride? I mean long journeys, across lands?”

“Yes, I do.” Pride straightens his shoulders. “I have.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Would you be in any kind of trouble if you were to disappear for a couple of days?”

His eyes widen. “‘Disappear’?”

“I need a message sent to my uncle in Delasurvia. But I need it sent discreetly.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to react. In essence, I’m asking him to betray his king, and for all I know, Jasper might be a man who is completely faithful to the crown. In this moment, between breaths, Jasper’s reaction could decide my fate.

Jasper inclines his head. “It would be my honor, Your Highness.”

The sigh of relief that leaves my chest scratches at my throat. “You have my thanks, Jasper. Would you happen to have parchment at hand? And some ink?”

“Yes.” He bounces on his toes, running past me into the stables.

I check my surroundings, hoping there are no nosey courtiers nearby, until Jasper reappears. He hands me the parchment and ink, and I crouch down, quickly jotting down a message to my uncle. I’m unable to explain everything on the small piece of paper, but I write down the most important points.

My fingers tremble as I clutch the parchment tightly once I’m done, the weight of my message heavy on my conscience. I hold out the parchment, my hands trembling. “Jasper, It’s urgent.”

With a nod, he takes the parchment from my outstretched hand. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll prepare a horse and see that it reaches him safely.”

“Thank you, Jasper. I won’t forget your kindness.” I offer him a small smile as I turn and head toward the castle.

With each step, I feel the weight of the kingdom’s fate resting on my shoulders. The hood of my cape conceals my face, shielding me from prying eyes as I hurry to the kitchen entrance. It’s the route Torbin and I would use when we snuck in and out of the castle, stealing treats for our childhood excursions. Every nerve in my body is on edge, every sense heightened as I listen for any sign of danger.

The castle is busy at this time of day, with servants and guards bustling about, so I keep close to the walls, slipping through less-traveled corridors. I turn my head away as I pass two guards, hunching slightly to throw off the scent of who I am. When I reach the corridor where the hidden passageway is located, I check over my shoulder once more.

With my ears perked, I lift the tapestry that conceals the entrance and press my hand to the familiar stone. It gives way, revealing the narrow staircase that leads up to my room. My heart pounds as I ascend, each step bringing me closer to safety. The passage is cool and damp, the air thick with the scent of earth and old stone, but I move quickly, my mind focused on reaching my chamber before anyone notices my absence.

When I pull open the secret door to my room, I spot Nadya sitting on my bed. She gasps when she sees me and jumps up, her hand held to her heart.

“Celeste!”

I hold a finger to my lips as I approach her. “I’m sorry I took so long.” I close the distance and embrace her, thankful that she’s all right. After squeezing her tightly, I back up and search her eyes. “Was everything all right? Did anyone come looking for me?”

“Someone opened the door in the middle of the night, but I was under your covers with my face turned away. No one lit a candle, so I don’t think they noticed that it wasn’t you.”

I squeeze her hands. “Thank the gods.”

“And this morning, Indira was asking for you, but I lied and told her you’d gone for a walk and would return later. She told me to tell you that you are expected at dinner this evening. The queen insists you attend because she has an announcement.” She shakes her head. “Where did you go? I was afraid you’d been caught and something sinister had happened to you.”

Nadya’s eyes search mine, her brows pulled together. I can see she’s ready to hear whatever burden I’m carrying, but the thought of dragging her into this makes my stomach twist. If I tell her, she’ll be on edge, and I need her to stay calm, to play her part flawlessly. But keeping her in the dark feels wrong, a betrayal of the trust we’ve built. She deserves the truth, and I owe it to her to be honest, no matter the risk. After everything, I can’t leave her wondering or guessing—I have to let her in.

“I’m going to tell you everything, but you’re going to want to sit down.”

I’m refreshed after my bath, but my mind is still swirling. Nadya took the news about Torbin’s involvement with the Shadow Tsar with the shock I expected, but she quickly added that looking back, his escalating bouts of temper were clear warning signs. And I agreed. Somehow, her resolve shone through, telling me that whatever I decide, she’s on my side.

Then I told her about Dante and me last night, and she nearly fell off the bed.

It’s dinnertime, and Sir Holden escorts me to the grand dining hall. In an effort to spare Nadya from any danger that might occur, I told her to stay in her room and that I would tell the royals that she wasn’t feeling well.

When I arrive, the dining hall is alive with the murmurs of courtiers and the clink of silverware against the fine flatware. A tapestry of rich colors and elaborate decorations adorns the walls, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me.

The warm glow of flickering candlelight bathes the opulent embroideries that adorn the walls. The scent of freshly cooked delicacies wafts through the air, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation as the royal family and their guests gather around the ornate table.

As I step closer to the table, my eyes are immediately drawn to Torbin. He stands near his mother’s side, his posture rigid, the dark gleam in his eyes betraying the false warmth in his smile. Our gazes lock for a moment—his filled with unspoken threats, mine carefully guarded. I force a smile to him for those watching us, a shallow gesture, as I nod in his direction, masking the unease churning within me.

The king is already seated, his fingers drumming lightly on the table as he speaks with two lords sitting at the table. His gaze sweeps over me, and for a brief moment, I catch the flicker of suspicion there. He nods in acknowledgment, with the hint of a cold, calculating look that makes my skin crawl. I lower my eyes in a show of respect, even as my thoughts race with the knowledge of the messenger I just sent away. I cannot let him see my fear.

The queen sits beside him, regal in her composure, yet her face is pale, and her eyes cast on a few ladies of the court. But every once in a while, her gaze drops, focusing instead on the table settings as if they hold some great secret. Her fingers trace the edge of her wineglass, trembling slightly. It’s a subtle movement, but one I notice.

As I make my way to my seat, a few nobles murmur their greetings, and I respond in kind, my voice steady, betraying none of the tension that coils within me. Every step feels heavy, the distance to my chair far greater than it should be. When I finally reach it, I take a slow, measured breath before sitting down, the mask of composure firmly in place.

I have to force myself to not recoil from Torbin as he takes his seat. Being in the same room with him fills me with an anxious rage, but sitting within reach of him puts me on edge. My dagger is strapped to my thigh, but I can’t see a situation in this setting where using it could end well .

The king eyes me as I straighten in my chair, and I have to wonder if he suspects what I’ve done. Jasper must be long gone by now, and no one has accused me of anything, so I can only hope that my efforts to deliver the message have gone undetected.

“I’ve been very busy organizing the engagement celebration,” the queen says, continuing the discussion with the guests at the table. “It will be a brilliant spectacle. The only thing bigger than this event will be the actual wedding, which will of course take place earlier than expected—in one month’s time.”

One month? I didn’t expect that she would move up the date. That’s all the time I have left to come up with a plan to turn everything around, to convince the king of Torbin’s true intentions and somehow get the regiment to successfully infiltrate the tsardom of Dulcamar.

Of course, that most likely means war. The tsar has a growing army of fierce creatures I’m not sure the regiment is ready to take down. We need more soldiers, and without the king’s compliance, we could very well be outnumbered.

The queen’s animated voice fills the air, her excitement palpable as she regales us with details of the extravagant affair she has meticulously planned.

“There are still some things I must finalize for the wedding, of course.” The queen beams, raising her wineglass as she speaks. “We simply must have the finest musicians from Alphemra. And the most exquisite cake adorned with sugared roses in every shade imaginable. Oh, and let’s not forget the fireworks display! It must rival even the grandest spectacles of the past.”

I nod along politely, my back straight, my expression carefully composed, but inside, my mind races with worry. Time is running out.

The queen’s enthusiasm is almost infectious as she goes on about the wedding, about how the most prominent members of the realm are invited, how the celebration will last for days. Beneath the facade of excitement, I notice that she avoids looking directly at the king. She keeps her focus on me and Torbin. Even when he speaks, she averts her gaze .

I finally see through her. She longs for the castle to be filled with celebrations and festivals, to be surrounded by people, not for the joy of it, but to avoid being alone with the king. She is as much a prisoner here as I am, bound by the weight of the crown and the king’s oppressive gaze.

Is this my fate as well? Am I going to be forced into union with a monster with whom I must share a life, a tyrant whom I can’t even look in the eye?

“I commend your attention to detail,” the king says to his wife. “But let us not forget the true purpose of this celebration: to honor the union between our beloved son Torbin and the Princess Celeste, and what that union stands for.”

I swallow hard, understanding the true meaning of the king’s words. They settle upon my shoulders like a leaden shroud. Despite the queen’s attempts to distract us with talk of festivities and merriment, I can feel the suffocating grip of reality closing in around me, reminding me of the grim fate that awaits me in the days to come.

“Well, of course,” the queen says, smiling at Torbin. “That’s the very reason the celebration must be so grand. It’s not every day a son takes a bride.”

“That’s true, Mother.” Torbin grabs my hand under the ruse he’s being affectionate, when in fact his fingers are clenching mine like a vise. “I believe this will the beginning of a reign that will fascinate all of Terre Ferique for decades to come.”

The servants bring in the dinner, but I can only stare at my plate. My stomach churns, and every glance from Torbin is like a sharp prick to my senses. I push the food around with my fork, hoping no one notices.

Every passing moment feels like an eternity as I wait for any sign, any indication that Torbin or the king are on to me, that they know what I’ve been up to and are about to haul me away to the dungeon. The tension is palpable, and I just want this evening to end so I can retreat to the safety of my chambers.

Halfway through the meal, the heavy, oak doors swing open, making me jump. I turn to see Farvis stride into the room with purpose. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of him, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. He approaches the king’s seat with a solemn expression, and I can barely breathe as I wait for him to speak.

“Your Majesty,” Farvis begins, his voice echoing through the hall, “my apologies to you and your guests for interrupting your meal, but I’ve just been informed of an incident and thought it best to let you know.”

“What is it, Farvis?” The king spares him a glance before gulping down his wine.

“A horse has returned to the stable. It was unmanned, but there were traces of blood on the saddle.”

A gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I clasp a hand over my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest. Panic grips me as I realize the implications of Farvis’s words. Jasper… He never made it to Delasurvia, and if the blood is any indication of what transpired, he’s most likely dead. My heart cinches, but I fight to keep defeat out of my face.

Torbin’s eyes flicker to mine, and for a brief moment, I see a flash of something in his gaze—triumph, perhaps, or fucking amusement. But just as quickly, he raises his wineglass to his lips, masking his expression behind a facade of indifference.

I swallow hard, fighting to maintain my composure, but inside, I am consumed by a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. The walls of the dining hall seem to close in around me, suffocating me with their oppressive weight. And the realization sinks in that I may have just gotten Jasper killed and my message may have fallen into the wrong hands.

“Who would be taking a horse out at this time of night?” the queen asks.

The king doesn’t look up from his plate, chewing around his words. “Whoever it was and whatever their reason, they weren’t successful in their efforts.”

“Ah, shame about the rider, whoever that might have been,” Torbin says, feigning concern. “But at least the gods saw fit to make sure we didn’t lose the horse.”

The nobles murmur their agreements, sharing their thoughts with each other. But I can’t take it. An innocent man is most likely dead because of me. I can’t sit here any longer and bear witness to the mindless chatter.

I steady myself, forcing my voice to remain calm as I address the table. “Your Majesties, I’m terribly sorry, but I must ask if I may be excused.” I strain to keep my tone polite and composed despite the tornado of agitation destroying my insides. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well and would like to lie down for a while.”

The king’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering across his face. “Nonsense, Celeste. You’re being rude to our guests. Besides, a little food should make you feel better. I’m sure you can stomach it.”

Before I can respond, the queen interjects, her voice soft but authoritative. “Now, now, we can’t expect her to enjoy the meal or our company if she’s ill. Besides, I’m sure the ladies at the table can understand the sensitive composition of a woman’s body. Let her rest, my king. She’ll be much better for it. After all, we want her to be at the top of her health for the engagement celebration.”

The king hesitates, his jaw tightening as he considers her words, but finally, after hearing the agreement of the women at the table, he gives a reluctant nod.

“Thank you, Your Majesties. And once again, my apologies.”

Just as I rise to leave, Torbin stands as well, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“I’ll escort her,” he says, his eyes locking on to mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

I fake a smile and curtsey to the king and queen. Torbin has a tight hold of my elbow as we leave the room, but it isn’t until we step into the hall and out of sight that I jerk my arm away from him.

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my own room.” I don’t even hide my contempt in front of Sir Holden, who stands near the door, waiting to accompany me.

Torbin’s eyes darken. “I’m aware. But I also know that you’re capable of fleeing.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” I begin walking, not caring to look at him any longer .

He is fast to catch up with me, matching my strides as Sir Holden follows.

“Don’t take me for a fool, Celeste. Where were you last night?”

It takes every effort to remain calm. “I was here. In my room.”

He grabs my arm as we reach my room and pulls me to a stop. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

My hand hovers over my sheathed dagger. “I will not be a prisoner here. If I’m so important to your future plans”—I narrow my eyes at him, intentionally disguising my words in front of my Royal Ward—“then you best mind the way you treat me.”

Torbin’s jaw is set, but his eyes dart between me and Sir Holden.

“Was it you who sent someone to check on me in the middle of the night?” I ask him.

“I was simply ensuring your safety, Celeste.” He speaks his words through clenched teeth.

“That’s what my Royal Ward is for. I never left my room. You can ask Sir Holden if you don’t believe me.”

He scrutinizes me. I can’t tell if he knows about every secret passageway in the castle, in particular the one accessible from my room, but even if he does, he might be hesitant to bring it up, not knowing if I’m aware of it. “You’re a smart woman, Celeste, so I won’t have to remind you what fleeing will cost you.”

I can only grind my teeth in response.

He leans closer, and I flinch.

“There’s no use stopping the course of events, Celeste. Despite your futile attempts to change things, you know there is only one possible outcome.” He inches forward, his eyes darting over my face. “It’s inevitable, with or without your cooperation.”

Before I know what’s happening, his mouth is on mine in a rough kiss.

I whimper, trying to break free, but he’s strong. Much stronger than I remember, a clear indication that the potion he took has changed him.

With one last push of my fae powers, I yank my face away from his and slap him hard. For a split second, he glares at me in surprise, but then a demented laugh escapes his lips.

Standing nearby, Sir Holden watches us, and I notice that his hand is on the hilt of his sword. It gives me a small sense of relief to know he might have stepped in to help me if necessary. Though it could very well cost him his life.

Torbin smirks at me as he backs away. “Sleep well, my dear. Our big day is approaching faster than you think.”

Deep down, I know he’s talking about more than just the wedding.