Page 95 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

He swallowed, beads of sweat forming at his temples as he struggled to answer. “I…” he tried to say. “I can’t tell you.”

“Yes, you can,” she encouraged, hovering closer to his lips, squeezing her grip tighter.

He struggled against her pull, the magic embedded within him fortifying his thoughts. But her siren persisted, squeezing the answer out of him—another large crack formed in the wall.

She despised the feeling of invading his mind, but she was desperate.

She won the battle as the last of the barricaded wall crumbled and he let out a painful sigh. “Last I heard, they had made camp just outside of Carnthe, close to the northeastern border, but that was some weeks ago.”

Her heart leapt. Finally, something they could use. “How many of them are there?”

“Not many. I’d say no more than twenty.”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. How could that be? How could so few do so much damage? Overrun cities? Kill all those innocent people?

“What were they looking for?” she asked, wanting to know more.

He struggled a great deal more with this one, his face twisting in pain. “They were… looking… looking for a girl.”

That certainly wasn’t something she would have ever guessed. “A girl? What girl?”

Moretti swallowed hard, still wrestling for words as his face flinched. “A girl named Rosalie Versalles.”

A chill swept through her—even her siren quivered.

“Did they ever find her?” she asked, her voice deathly still.

“Yes.” He struggled for breath as if she were holding him by the throat. “She’s at the castle.”

Shock hit her like she’d just been dunked into icy water. “How’d they find her?”

“Because I told them,” he answered, at least having the decency not to look proud of the fact.

“It was the piece of information I leveraged to save the city. I know Prince Tristan well. He often came in place of the king for meetings during the war. He was the one who told me about her. Just the way he spoke about her—I could tell she meant a great deal to him. He told me her name was Rosalie Versalles. I thought nothing of it until the men asked if I knew anything about her. So I told them.”

She processed the information with a pause. “What did they want with her?”

“They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

She believed him.

They knew. Whoever these men were, they knew her. But how? And why were they looking for her? And if they already knew she was at the castle, why had they not shown themselves? Were they connected to what happened to her in the third trial?

Her mind raced. The castle wasn’t safe. Her mother wasn’t safe. No one was safe. She had to go back. She had to warn them.

She released her siren’s grip. “Thank you.”

Moretti blinked as she retreated from his mind, giving him back to himself. He gasped in a small breath. He read her fearful expression. “You know this woman?”

She didn’t answer, her mind working overtime.

“Draya?”

“My name is not Draya,” she admitted. “It’s Rosalie Versalles.”

His eyes widen with fear. “Tell me you’re lying.”

She blinked at him in response.

His mouth fell open. “ You’re Rosalie? Tristan was the previous suitor you mentioned before? You’re the throne seeker?”

Apparently, court gossip had spread to the capital. She shouldn’t have been surprised. “It’s not my favorite title, but yes.”

Moretti stepped forward, grabbing her lightly by the shoulders. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“No, no one… besides my companion.” She shouldn’t have told him that bit.

“Who?”

She hesitated, but she felt like she owed it to him to be honest. “Prince Roman.”

His face hardened into ice. “Was he the man in the tent?” Moretti clenched his fists.

She nodded weakly.

His lips curled up into a snarl. “Damn you. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Why should I have? I didn’t know you. I had no idea what you were like,” she said, defending herself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? The Snorri, the conversation we had at the tavern. You had no interest in me. You just wanted to use me.”

Her eyes lowered with guilt. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that you would be?—”

“Be what? A human being?”

“Kind,” she corrected, looking back up.

He sneered at her, betrayed. “A trait I reserved only for you. But now I see I was mistaken.”

“I’m sorry.” It surprised her how much she cared. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Just use me.”

She took a few steps back, bumping into a chair. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Moretti stopped her by grabbing her arm. “I need to know—was any of it real? And damn it, tell me the truth. I deserve that, at least.”

“Yes. Everything I told you about my feelings was true.” The powder had confirmed her statement, even if he didn’t know that. “But then after that… things changed.”

He took her answer with a grain of salt. “You can’t go back to the castle. If those men are searching for you, you need to run like hell.”

She wouldn’t cower away. “No. I have to warn them. My mother is there.”

“Send for her. Take her with you. I’ll help you. Come with me. I’ll hide both of you.”

She studied his face. Then she said with a softer voice, “Sounds like you don’t hate me so much after all.”

Moretti’s expression remained hard as he came closer, even as he said, “Of course I don’t hate you. I want to despise you, but this is my fault; if I knew it was you—gods, if I only knew—I would’ve never told them.”

“Sorry” wouldn’t help her now. She was wasting time. “I have to go.”

She turned, making her way quickly to the door.

Moretti followed close behind. “I’m telling you now, don’t go back. You won’t survive.”

She didn’t stop as she said, “I’ll be fine. I know how to take care of myself.”

Thunder clapped overhead as Moretti snatched her arm again just before she reached the door.

“You have no idea what you’re up against,” Moretti said, pleading for her to see reason. “These men fight like nothing I’ve ever seen. I can’t even tell you what they look like. They wear black hoods and masks—they could be anyone. Even coming to the city like this was a risk.”

“I have to try.” She couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

He gripped her arm tighter. “I can’t let you.”

“Let me go, Moretti,” she warned, sensing his desperation.

“I’m not letting you get yourself killed.”

“I survived the Snorri—I can survive this.”

Her siren recognized his greedy desire to keep her there, to force her to stay with him. He thought for a long moment while he searched her eyes. Finally, he gave a loud, exhausted sigh. “If you come to your senses and change your mind, my offer still stands.” He released her arm.

His disappointment became hers. The feeling was so strong that she wanted to reach out and comfort him, but she knew it would only make his pain worse. Instead, she gave him a small smile. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”

Moretti drew close. For a split second, she was worried he’d try to kiss her, but his lips veered to press themselves to her cheek.

“I only pray you’re here to remember me,” he whispered in farewell.

Roman and Rose didn’t speak until they arrived back at Highland Haven, too worried about being seen or overheard to stop and discuss what she’d discovered. Once they reached the estate’s front steps, she recounted everything Moretti had revealed as the sky threatened to pour rain.

“I should go kill the snake,” Roman said with a vengeful scowl.

Moretti was the least of their worries. “We have bigger problems; we have to go back, Roman. What about your family? The people at court? What if they’ve infiltrated the castle under their very noses because of me? It’s all my fault.”

He shook his head sharply. “No. We stick with the original plan and send for your mother to come here. It’s not safe. For anyone. If it’s you they want, the best thing to do is stay away.”

She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. “What if something’s already happened to her?”

“Your mother is strong, just like you. She’ll be fine. If they wanted to hurt her, they would’ve done it already.”

Rose had been so involved in their discussion that she hadn’t noticed Gretta exit the manor until she heard shouting.

“Roman!… Roman!” Gretta called from the front door, shuffling out as fast as she could, holding something in her hand. “It’s a letter from the castle… it’s your mother. Her illness has taken a turn for the worst.”

The hits just kept coming.

Roman snatched the parchment from Gretta, reading his father’s scribbles. After he finished, he lowered the letter, letting it fall to his side as his gaze drifted. “It looks like I have to return after all.” His eyes returned to her. “But I still think you should stay.”

Not a chance in hell. “I’m coming with you.”

“We just got done discussing how dangerous it will be,” he said with a stern look.

“I’m coming,” she repeated, refusing to be left behind. “Besides, I don’t want you withering away without me.”

He looked like he wanted to disagree, but instead he sighed, looking down at her with a defeated expression.

He squeezed her hand, leaning down to gently kiss her forehead.

She could feel his desire for her grow as he breathed in her scent.

But he contained himself. “Then we leave as soon as possible. Send for Onyx… If we ride him, we can be there before nightfall.”