In the Veins of the Drowning(17)

Two of Nemea’s guards, clad in their ominous black armor, stood before my chamber door. They wore helmets that only showed their lower faces. One guard, whose jaw was covered in red spots and pock scars, shoved the other with a gangly elbow when he saw me. “She’s there.”

The older guard offered me a quick half bow. “Into your chamber, my lady.”

“You have no right ordering me around.” I spoke with authority, even as my heart plummeted. “I’m the king’s ward.”

“You’re the captain’s lady now,” the pock-faced boy-soldier mumbled. “And he’ll make my life hell if you’re not in that room when he’s back.”

“I’ll not be a prisoner in my own home.” I trudged onward, but he reached out a single wiry arm and scooped me up. I yelled as he hefted me toward my open door. I thrashed and clawed before I was unceremoniously dropped to my rug and shut in. “I’ll have the king skin you for this.” The door rattled in its frame as I beat against it.

“Forgive me, my lady.” The guard sounded unrepentant through the heavy oak. “Captain’s orders.”

The entire afternoon passed with guards barring my door. No one entered. Not Agatha, nor Evander.

I scrubbed my face with frigid water. Washed my hair and slipped on a clean chemise and dressing gown. All the while I thought on how I might escape. Perhaps there were passages I’d failed to discover when I’d been a curious girl exploring the fort. Dark and winding tunnels I’d missed that might lead me to the base of the mountain. But unsurprisingly, I found no secret doors behind the tapestries in my room. There were no cobwebbed halls behind my hanging gowns.

As the sun began to set, I sprawled over my mattress, staring up at the ceiling while a horrific maw widened in my stomach. My hope slowly slipped inside it, swallowed up.

Three quick knocks came. I sat bolt upright. The pock-faced soldier swung my door open, and Agatha walked in. Her hair was loose and wild, black curls haloing her wan face. She held a single lit candle. “I’m allowed to stay until it burns out.”

My throat shut at the sight of her, so I nodded and patted the mattress beside me. Her gown was creased, and her knit wrap was pulled tightly around her narrow shoulders. She walked silently, grabbed a book from my table, and set it at the foot of my bed. She placed the candle atop it, then drew all the bedcurtains shut. She climbed onto the bed and propped herself up beside me. We both waited until the door snicked closed to talk.

“King Theodore came to speak with me,” Agatha whispered.

Angry tears sprang to my eyes. “Did he tell you I was an imbecile? That I was a coward and that all of this is my fault—”

“Shhh.” Agatha moved closer, wove her fingers through mine. “No. He came to tell me of your conversation. And that he would work on a plan to get you out.”

I shook my head. “He said it would take him time. Time I don’t have.”

“He’ll get you out,” Agatha said, with assuredness. “I trust him.”

“Tell me why.” I peered up at her from where I lay. The firelight flickered around our little cocoon. “You only knew him as a boy. He’s certainly changed since you were his governess. He’s a dashing, priggish king now.” Agatha squeezed my hand and I fell silent, and then, quietly, I asked, “How did you come to leave him and end up here?”

Agatha hesitated. “When I knew the king—the prince, then—he was about seven. I was only sixteen, and I fell in love with a young soldier in the king’s guard.” She swallowed hard. “After some time, we decided to perform a blood bond. In secret. Just the two of us one night in front of the fire.” Melancholy filled her voice as she recalled it, and I wondered if she saw the flame-lit memory in her mind. “But when King Athan, Theodore’s father, found out—well, he ordered that our bond be severed.”

I turned to see her better. “Severed? But you loved each other.”

“If only love were enough to overthrow the will of a king.” She huffed a breath. “Afterward, I left and came to Seraf. Word hadn’t spread yet that Nemea had started hunting Sirens when I set sail.”

“I see.” I propped my head on my hand. “Do you still love him? Your soldier.”

“That was nearly twenty years ago, Imogen.”

“Do you?” She shook her head too quickly and wouldn’t meet my eye, which pulled a smile from me. “Well, when my future husband has tied me to some bed, or some mast, and I am no longer allowed to keep a handmaid, I hope you leave this place and go find him.”

“Imogen.” She scowled at me. “I know Theodore. He will help.”

“Was he imperious as a boy too, or is that quality something he needed time to grow into?”

Agatha snorted. “He was a sweet boy.” She gave me a sidelong look. “I remember him constantly whining for sugar cubes, though.”

I grimaced. “Disgusting.”

“Imogen.” Agatha’s voice went low and somber. “The news I hear from Varya is filled with stories of what a generous ruler he is. He is duty-bound to his core.”

I quirked a brow. Fort Linum was a distance from Port Helris and the connected town of Stowand. Whatever information Agatha received about Varya and its king came from far outside the fort. Correspondence from the rest of the archipelago came sporadically, unreliably. “Who told you that?”