Only when the lord was gone did I allow myself to sink back down to the cold stone ground, leaning my head against the equally frigid stone wall.
Davin slid close to me on the other side of the bars, his posture nearly as defeated as I felt.
“Do you think they’ll actually kill us?” I asked.
He let out a slow breath. “I would like to think they wouldn’t risk a war, but Socairans hold grudges. They may feel safe on their side of the mountain. And stars, Row, killing us is hardly the worst thing they could do. They could just leave us in this dungeon to freeze to death.”
I dropped my voice. “As charming as staying in this dungeon sounds, at least it will be warmer tonight.”
“That is a comfort. I love it when your woo-woo powers come in handy.”
That was unusual enough. The most I could do with my basic weather intuition was tell someone when to pack an extra cloak. Still, Davin was the only one of my cousins or siblings without any fae blood, so he had always insisted it was “woo-woo.”
“It’s science, Dav, not magic.” I whispered the familiar argument, laughing a little under my breath. “I’m just a little closer to nature than most people are. You know, like how you’re a little closer to all the ladies of the court than most of the other lairds are.”
He huffed out a laugh, returning to his usual glib demeanor. “Speaking of things I miss about Court, do you at least think the stuffy lord left to get lunch?”
“One can dream.”
But when Lord Theodore returned several hours later, there was no food in sight.
I opened my mouth to comment on it, but closed it as he pulled a heavy iron key from his coat. He unlocked the door, swinging it open as he barked something in Socairan to someone I couldn’t see.
Two hulking guards marched in, wearing uniforms similar to Lord Theodore’s, only the buttons were black and theirs had matching flat-topped caps. Wordlessly, they hauled us to our feet and escorted us up the winding staircase.
“If you’re going to kill us, can we at least eat first?” I rasped out, my mouth even drier than it was this morning. “I’m starving.”
Maybe they were taking us to be hanged. Or to torture our kingdom’s secrets out of us. Either way, my stomach flipped and my mind raced with each step, but I didn’t want them to know that.
“I second this movement!” Davin chimed in. “No one should be sent to their deaths on empty stomachs.”
If I thought that Lord Theodore didn’t care for us, the guards made their disdain even more obvious. Rough hands squeezed my arms after my plea for food, all but dragging me the rest of the way up the stairs.
Theodore led the way down several long hallways while my much shorter legs scrambled to keep up, lest I give my guard another excuse to drag me. Finally, we stopped at a large open room with no furnishings.
It appeared to be an entryway of sorts, with a black domed ceiling looming high above us. Long navy banners hung on either side of the massive doorways, adding the only pop of color to the oppressively daunting room, and just above each of the three door frames were gargantuan brown antlers.
“I think I preferred the dungeons,” Davin said once he was right next to me.
Though he was quiet, his voice carried through the spacious room, echoing off of the bare walls.
I nodded my agreement just as the door to our left groaned open, admitting a tall, dark-haired man in brocaded tawny robes. He surveyed us with a sharp, hawklike expression.
The surrounding men dipped their heads in respect, but I held mine high.
“You two present quite the conundrum to me,” the man said, his accent milder than Theodore’s. “Imagine my surprise when I send my brother to patrol the tunnels for smugglers and he returns with Lochlannian royalty.”
This must have been Iiro, the Duke of Clan Elk. His words hung in the air between us as I studied him. I would have known he was Theodore’s brother even if no one had mentioned it.
His features were nearly identical, though the small lines around his hazel eyes and downturned mouth indicated he was in his early thirties. The only discernible difference between them was that where Theodore’s hair was so light blonde, it was nearly white, Iiro’s straight locks were deep brown.
“Sir Iiro, if we could explain—” I began.
“You will not address his grace without being spoken to,” my guard stepped forward and hissed, interrupting me.
I snapped my mouth shut, though I didn’t hide the aggravation burning from my eyes.
Lord Theodore stepped forward, raising a hand. “She is unfamiliar with our ways, Lev, and a princess.” The authoritative arch of his features morphed to something more respectful when he turned to his brother. “Perhaps an exception could be made.”
Sir Iiro’s eyes narrowed as he looked between his brother and me, but he waved a hand. “You may speak.”
How very gracious of him.
“As I was saying, we weren’t smuggling to resell for profit. It was only a bit of vodka—”
“Only?” He cut me off with a condescending laugh. “Only a breach in the laws of your kingdom and mine. Laws I can hardly believe you were unaware of, if you are who you claim to be, as it was your father who banned trade between us to begin with.”
I swallowed back guilt at the truth of his words. One more reason for Da’ to kill me, if I managed to make it back alive.
“And I’m sure we will be amply punished for that in Lochlann, just as you would be amply compensated for our return,” Davin spoke up. No one told him not to speak out of turn, confirming my suspicions about backward Socairan ways. “If you could arrange a way back to Lochlann for us, we would be very, very grateful.”
Everyone laughed except for Lord Theodore.
“The mountain road is impassable for the season,” he explained. “If what you say about the tunnels is true…there is no way back to Lochlann.”
