Page 141 of The Freedom You Seek

“You murdered my son, my only heir. Surely, I deserve at least that much of a courtesy.”

Gritting my teeth, I felt acid rise in my throat at the mention of his son Jelric, and it forcefully dragged back the memories of his weight on top of me. “Your son tried to rape me.”

“He was your betrothed, and he merely wanted to take what he was entitled to.”

“You’re as despicable as him. I see where he got it from.”

The King of Merchants took a step toward me, and I observed that his guards didn’t move with him. Maybe, if I lured him further away, I might have a chance to give him the same treatment I’d given Jelric. My hand tightened around the hilt of my dagger.

“My, my, no need to throw insults around, Miss Ortha. Even though your actions so far suggest that you’re intellectually challenged, let’s still try to have a simple chat here like reasonable adults. I’m sure you are aware of how outnumbered you are.”

Indeed, I was aware of that and also of the fact that it was my fault that I was alone in the first place. If I’d kept my promise to Dion, I’d still be in relative safety. Did it make me a monster because I yearned for the protection of an even more evil monster? “Outnumbered or underestimated?”

“Oh, I’m not underestimating you. You’re a murderer after all, escaped your own execution, evaded capture for months, and today I find you walking away from the Godless City wearing the most peculiar choker I’ve ever seen. What kind of dark bargain have you struck?”

My hand touched my neck in reflex, but there was only skin beneath the pads of my fingers and a faint darkness writhing and humming beyond—I refused to acknowledge that my binding mark might be purring.

“None,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I find that hard to believe. So, Miss Ortha, I’ll repeat myself one more time. How have you evaded me all these months?”

I retreated as Perran followed. I had to lure him further away, needed to keep him talking, so he’d be separated from his guards, who were still standing where they dismounted, looking slightly bored at the King of Merchants.

“By being more intelligent than you. Ever thought about that?”

“You see, that’s also hard to believe. You, a young villager, a woman no less, untrained in weaponry and survival, with no special skills according to your father, and who escaped from the gallows being drugged and half-strangled. And the way how you escaped, this unnatural darkness no one could explain. It’s very peculiar, Miss Ortha, wouldn’t you agree?”

I just shrugged, letting him talk while luring him further away.

“But you can solve this little mystery for me, can’t you? So, who helped you, and how did day turn to night? It still terrorizes the dreams of the poor inhabitants of Credenta.”

A pang of satisfaction swept through my veins. It felt weirdly good to know that the people who would have gladly watched me die were still suffering from the aftermath of Dion’s power, but I shoved those thoughts far away. They would make me even more of a monster. Or a hypocrite—maybe both.

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

“See, and that’s where you’re wrong. Whoever rescued you took significant risks to keep you alive. I need to know how and why.”

“Well, I won’t tell you.”

“Miss Ortha, did you know that right after you fled, my only wish was to subject you to the same death you gave to my son?”

“What’s stopping you? Like I said, I won’t tell you a single word.”

“No, but I have a feeling others would, given the right motivation. After all, you didn’t travel alone. Who are the men who have been protecting you all this time?”

Bait. He was talking about baiting the others. Well, such an attempt would be in vain, considering how I’d fled from Dion, but Feroy didn’t need to know that. The others, even though I believed we’d become friends over the last months, were loyal to the princeling first and foremost.

“Do you think I’d be alone if anyone cared where I was?”

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

It was now or never. We were a few paces away from the guards. I yanked my dagger from my skirts and charged at Perran Feroy, who didn’t even flinch.

I had almost reached him when I was jolted back. A hand tightly circled my wrist and squeezed until I dropped my blade and screamed in pain.

No, no, no. Please Immaru, please. This couldn’t be happening!

I struggled against the grip, kicked, and tried to bite. Panic had me in its grip, and I thrashed like a feral beast possessed. The guard holding me let out a displeased grunt as my foot connected with some part of his leg. Good.