Home > Books > Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(49)

Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(49)

Author:Raven Kennedy

“Fine.”

My eyes jerk to her face. “Fine?” I repeat back, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re sure? Because this is a dangerous game, and we could both be punished severely.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she snaps. “I’m not a fool.”

My heart leaps with hope. “Then we’re in this together?”

She sighs. “I suppose.”

I can’t help but give her a tentative smile before I hold out a gloved hand for her to shake. “We’re on the same side. You handle your end, I’ll handle mine, and then we will get out of here. We’ll be free, Rissa.”

She hesitates for a second before taking my hand. Her hold is hard, fingers squeezing mine. “Don’t double-cross me, or I’ll make you regret it,” she tells me, ruthlessness in her face.

Well, it’s certainly not a friends forever promise, but it’ll do.

Reaching into my pocket with my other hand, I pull out the gold apple and watch her eyes widen. “No betrayal. No double-crossing.”

She releases my palm to snag the fruit, testing the weight of it before she stuffs it in the pocket of her dress. “Alright, Auren. We’re on the same side.”

She doesn’t have to tag on the unsaid words of that sentence. The or else is implied.

But maybe, just maybe, the two of us can learn to trust each other enough to get the hell out of here and not have to do it alone.

Here’s hoping.

Chapter 12

AUREN

As I leave the saddle wing, I debate how to get back into my rooms without being seen, but the decision is ripped right out from under me when a worried looking Scofield comes barreling down the hall.

I freeze and glance left and right, which is stupid since there’s nowhere to hide and he’s already seen me anyway.

“My lady, how did you get here? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaims, rushing forward.

“How did you know I wasn’t in my room?”

He stops in front of me, brown hair disheveled. “I had a feeling you’d gone against the king’s orders,” he says as he fidgets with the golden buckles of his uniform. “Plus, I kept knocking on your door, and you didn’t answer.”

“I could’ve been sleeping,” I say defensively. “Honestly, Scofield, that’s a little rude to jump to conclusions like that.”

His brow furrows. “But you’re not sleeping.”

“Well, you know that now.” I look around the empty hall. “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

Scofield shakes his head and scratches his sideburn. “Not that I know of. I had someone take my post so I could come looking for you, just in case. The others thought you were just ignoring me.”

“See? That’s a much more reasonable assumption. You should listen to them next time.”

He gives me a pointed look. “They were wrong.”

I just shrug, like that’s beside the point. “Well, you found me now, so you can escort me back to my room if that makes you feel better. Lead the way.” I gesture down the hall. “The sooner you get me back, the less of a chance King Midas has of finding out that I snuck out during your watch. He probably wouldn’t be too happy with you.”

I feel a bit guilty about the way the blood drains from Scofield’s face as the weight of my words sink in, but I’m not above playing dirty.

Too bad Midas is already waiting in my room when we get there.

My stomach drops as soon as I open the door and find him standing inside. Scofield makes a choking noise next to me, while Lowe avoids eye contact in the hall.

As I pause in the doorway, Midas’s unreadable gaze flicks over me. “Close the door,” he orders.

Swallowing hard, I step in, swinging the door closed behind me before I face him. He has his arms crossed in front of him, and he’s dressed impeccably. In formal pants and a long shirt, he’s buttoned from collarbone to hips with elaborate filigree embroidered along the length of his tunic. I briefly wonder who he’s dressed to impress today, but I’m more distracted by the set of his jaw and the cut of his glare.

To keep them from trembling, I clasp my hands in front of me.

I have the power. Me.

Those silent thoughts help me steel myself against the onslaught of temper I know I’m about to receive.

His brown eyes pin me in place, like a pair of needles to stick me against the door. “Where were you?”

I raise my chin. “I told you I wouldn’t stay locked up.”

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