Page 119 of Scarred

Sara B.

This is my first time in the dungeons, and they’re exactly as I expected them to be. Dark and dreary and smelling of must.

My head pounds from the remnants of the laudanum and I clank my chained-up wrists against the dank stone wall, knowing they’re much too strong for me to break.

I have no clue how long it’s been. I’m not sure if Tristan is still alive, although, as insane as it sounds, I think I’d know if he was no longer in the land of the living.

Despite everything, there’s still a small ember of hope flickering in my chest, and that keeps me holding on.

All is not lost until it islost.

A door slams open and small cracks of light filter through the iron-barred window of the concrete door. My stomach cramps, icy tendrils of fear worming through my psyche as I wonder if it’s the king coming to claim retribution for my sins against him. Or maybe it’s a guard wanting to take advantage of a chained-up girl with no way to escape.

Turns out, it’s neither.

The cell door swings open, and Marisol, wide eyed and wild-haired, rushes in, her hand covering her mouth as a muffled sob breaks free. She runs over and scans me from head to toe.

“Marisol,” I croak, my voice shaky and strained.

“Milady,” she whispers. There’s a key in her hand, and relief pours through me until I shake.

“Quiet. We have little time.” She looks behind her as she unlocks my chains, blood rushing through my limbs as they drop to the ground. I wince as the feeling comes back into my extremities and I heave myself forward onto my knees, gritting my teeth through the ache of my muscles as I push myself to a stand.

“How?” I ask, rubbing my wrists to help the blood flow.

Marisol smiles. “Together we rule, divided we fall.”

Shock freezes me in place. “You’re arebel? But you spoke of them so cruelly, I don’t—”

“Once upon a time, I was young and foolish and desperately in love.” She pushes me forward, out of the cell, lowering her voice to a whisper as she leads us to the back corner of the dungeons until we’re facing what looks like a solid stone wall. “He was a penniless man with no title to his name.” She shakes her head. “But I loved him more than anything.”

She turns toward me then, gripping my shoulders tight. “You asked Ophelia about her family, but you never cared to ask of mine. If you had, you would have learned that my father is a social climber. So…” Tears spring to her eyes. “It should be no surprise he threatened to kill my child, in order to keep glory to our name.”

My heart clamps down, somersaulting with pain for what she’s saying.

“But someone came to my aid, and took my precious baby, hiding him deep in the shadows along with the man that I loved. He fed them, clothed them, and promised safety as long as I helped usher in a new dawn.”

My breathing stutters, hope flaring to life in my chest. “Tristan.”

“The scarred prince.” She nods. “The rebel king. He saved my family. It was imperative no one knew of our connection. So yes, I said despicable things. But only because my son’s life depends on us succeeding. I could not trust you, and therefore, I could not speak.”

I open my mouth, my brain trying to catch up and re-slot the pieces of the puzzle into fresh places. “I—”

She shakes her head. “There is no time for this, milady. You must go. Edward is waiting for you in the black forest. He will take you to the shadowed lands, and you can lead the rebels here to save our king.”

“He’s alive?” Tears burst from my eyes, and relief drums through my veins until my legs threaten to collapse. “Tristan’s alive?”

“He is.” She nods, her hand pressing against the stone until a secret passage opens wide. “Now go, before they catch us both.”

* * *

Edward’s not alone.Sheina stands next to him, holding my boots, trousers, and black cloak, my daggers lying on top. Emotion swells like a balloon at the sight of her, and I fall into her arms, the clothes dropping into a heap at her feet.

“Shh, milady. Everything will be okay.”

“Sheina, I can’t—I don’t…” My body trembles as I hold her against me.

She strokes my hair, rocking us back and forth, tears streaming down her face as fully as they pour down mine.