Page 20 of The Rebel and the Rose (The City of Fantome #2)

It was several hours from dawn and Sera was back in the dungeon of the Summer Palace, trying to fathom how on earth they had got themselves into this mess.

Theo, meanwhile, was working on what they could gain from it.

‘Think of it as a turn of fate,’ he reasoned from the next cell. ‘It’s not like we have to kill the king’s marks, but at least this way, we’ll be able to find our way to them.’

Sera’s mind whirled. Were there really two more saints, like her, turned loose in the kingdom? Presented to her on the very night she had wished to know if there were others out there?

She couldn’t shake the feeling that fate’s hand was resting on her shoulder. That this awful night – this grand task – was no coincidence. But the plan was far from straightforward.

‘Once we find them, the Daggers will kill them.’ Of this, Sera was unerringly sure.

What did Ransom Hale and his ilk care for saints, when they already enjoyed the protection of the king and the enduring power of Shade?

This prince posed a threat to the Dagger too. If he survived, he might change everything. And who knew what kind of secret power bloomed on the misted Isle of Alisa?

Her heart sank. ‘We might not even get the chance to speak to Andreas before they strike.’

And saints, she wanted to. Desperately. Whatever magic Prince Andreas had gained in that storm seemed to be working just fine for him.

He had managed to whip up a fervour never before seen in the capital and amass a band of devoted followers to his cause.

The prison break had clearly helped, gifting him an army of disgruntled mercenaries who had their own scores to settle against the King of Valterre.

Yes, Prince Andreas had grabbed onto his new-found power with both hands. And now the King of Valterre was sweating about what he was going to do with those hands. Or indeed who he was going to extend them to.

‘I doubt he’ll go down easy,’ mused Theo, and Sera realized that might be true too. Her hopes brightened. ‘The Daggers are going to try and kill him whether we come along or not. At least this way we’ll have a chance to speak to him. Perhaps even help him.’

Or join him .

Sera’s heart raced at the thought. To work with a traitor to the Crown was tantamount to signing her own death sentence.

But it was clear to her now that being a saint already afforded her one.

If the king ever found out about her true power, she’d be hanged.

Or maybe this time, Ransom really would kill her.

He was different than he was before. Still irritatingly handsome, but sharper somehow. Shade-bitten. Hardened by the last few months, the shadow-marks on him had created a new and devastating tapestry. A reaper made flesh.

In any case, the more salient truth of the matter was this: if they tracked down Prince Andreas, perhaps he could help her .

She would have to consider her allegiance carefully. After all, Andreas could end up being more powerful than any ruler that had come before him. A revolutionary and a saint. Maybe even a king one day.

Who was he? What would he do with that kind of power?

Questions swirled inside her head, anxiety and anticipation making her thoughts heavy. Her lids too. Sighing deeply, she laid her forehead against the bars.

They had been fed, at least. A crusted bread roll stuffed with stringy gammon and hard cheese. Nothing like the platter the king had feasted on during their late-night meeting. Still, she had devoured the stale bread in six bites, washing it down with a canteen of cold water.

‘Of course we have to keep Bibi in mind,’ Theo said, quietly.

Sera frowned. It was an impossible dilemma.

Whatever their feelings about Prince Andreas and the rogue Alisan, they had no choice but to play along with the king’s plan for now.

To defer to Ransom and his Daggers. Until they could figure out a better way forward.

A way to save themselves and their friend.

At least Val had got away. Sera was sure if they’d managed to capture her, too, the king would be dangling her fate over them just as keenly as he was dangling Bibi.

A small mercy.

‘Try and sleep,’ said Theo, through a sprawling yawn. ‘Dawn will be here before we know it.’

Sera eyed the narrow bedroll in the corner of her cell. The servants had brought those too. She shuffled over to it now, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie down. She hugged her knees against her chest and sat with her back against the damp wall, willing sleep to come.

Sooner than expected, she nodded off. Her head lolled, jolting her from nightmare to nightmare, where she found herself falling – always falling – down, down, down…

Then choking, the dirt so thick in her mouth, she couldn’t scream.

Get me out! Get me out! Get me out!

She woke at the sound of approaching footsteps.

It was still dark outside, the only light flickering from the oil lamp beyond her cell. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been asleep for, only that she felt groggy and sore.

The footsteps drew closer, and then stopped abruptly. A shadow loomed outside her cell. She stared blearily at it, thinking it was some kind of apparition. A leftover remnant of her nightmares.

‘Seraphine.’ Ransom’s voice trickled through her like warm water. A pair of large shadow-marked hands curled around the bars of her cell. ‘Are you awake?’

She lurched forward without meaning to, leaving her bedroll and crawling towards him like he was a life raft bobbing in a violent sea.

Dimly, she knew she out of her senses. There wasn’t supposed to be anything comforting about seasoned assassin Ransom Hale, Head of the Order of Daggers and sworn enemy of the Order of Flames. Of her.

Except for the way he uttered her name like a prayer in the dark. It stirred something deep inside her, like a coin tossed into the pool of her soul.

When she reached the front of her cell, he came to his knees, his hands sliding down the bars until his fists framed the sides of her face.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she hissed. Now he was no longer standing to block it out, lamplight poured over them, illuminating his face. It was stark.

‘Making sure you’re not planning to do something reckless tomorrow,’ he said in a low voice.

Sera narrowed her eyes. ‘Can you be more specific?’

‘Like shoot off that smart mouth of yours and refuse the King of Valterre.’

‘Are you saying that’s an option?’

‘This isn’t funny, Seraphine.’

‘You think I find any of this funny?’ she said, jutting her face forward, until his curled fingers brushed her temples. ‘ Look at my face. Am I laughing?’

Voice strained, he said, ‘It makes me feel murderous.’

‘You’re always murderous.’

He huffed a sigh.

And just like that they were bickering again. Home sweet home.

‘I’m pissed at you,’ she said. ‘Just so you are aware.’

He gave her a flat look. ‘You’re one to talk.’

‘Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t see me coming.

You hardly thought I’d retire the secrets of Lightfire once I saved my own ass?

Let you get on with your little reign of terror?

’ she scoffed. ‘Leadership obviously suits you. You’re covered in shadow-marks.

’ She drew back, running the pad of her finger along the marks on his knuckles, not missing the way he shivered at her touch.

‘And after I went to all that trouble to erase them.’

Momentarily, she was seized by the memory of that reckless, heady kiss in the alleyway near Hugo’s Passage, how he had groaned against her neck, slid his hand down her trousers and shattered her whole world.

How the Lightfire in her cloak had responded to the swell of her pleasure, running through him like a current and shredding all the Shade festering inside him.

It had been perfect, before everything went to hell.

By the way his eyes darkened, she knew he was succumbing to the same memory. ‘Don’t talk like that when there are bars between us.’

She regretted it herself. Her heart was like a volcano, spewing heat through her blood. She could feel her magic waking up, getting ready to erupt into an inconvenient and possibly deadly spectacle.

She scrunched her hands, schooled her breathing.

Not here. Not now .

She’d never make it out alive.

Think of something else. Anything else . ‘How many kills have you notched up since I last saw you?’

There. An ice-cold bucket of reality to douse the bonfire of her lust.

‘Where are my prized smugglers?’ he parried. ‘You know, the ones you stole from me?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I hardly stuffed them into a big sack and ran off with them into the night. I offered them a different path. And better coin.’

‘And Lark?’ His voice turned cold, his eyes too. ‘What about him?’

Sera pulled back from the bars. ‘You know what happened with Lark. He tried to kill me.’

‘I’m not talking about the night at the Aurore.’

‘Then what are you talking about?’

He said nothing. He just watched her in that unnerving way, like he was waiting for something.

Let him wait. ‘If you came down here to speak in riddles, you can piss off. My head aches enough already.’

He frowned, shaking off whatever strangeness had come over him. ‘We’ll talk in the morning. Once you officially offer your services to the King of Valterre and thank him for the opportunity to prove yourself.’

‘I’ll kiss his feet too, shall I?’

He gave her a stark look. ‘Play the game, Seraphine. You’ve always been good at that.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why, so Nadia can strangle me out on the road the first chance she gets?’

‘Leave Nadia to me.’

‘My gallant knight,’ she taunted. ‘I thought you hated me.’

He rested his forehead against the bars until those firelit hazel eyes were all she could see.

‘Not enough to watch you suffer, Seraphine.’ He reached through the bars, his voice gentling as he traced the bruise on her cheek.