Captive and Crowned

by Elizabeth Newsom

  Evelyn pressed closer to Draven, lest she become lost in the writhing mass of people. The crowd was so thick in some areas that they’d had to creep forward inches at a time until the crowd dispersed or the street widened.

  Children darted in and out of alleys like black-cloaked ghosts. Many men and women were unwashed with greasy clumps of oily hair slithering down to frame their black-pored faces. To Evelyn’s surprise, a few nobles wandered in and out of buildings, though they were always accompanied by guards.

  She tugged at Draven’s sleeve. “So, where to first?”

  “We’ll be visiting an… acquaintance of mine. Braaten.”

  She ducked behind Draven to give a burly man room to brush by them.

  “When we speak with him, remain close by my side. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe.”

  She wasn’t sure she would like this Braaten character.

  Draven slowed next to a stone mansion, its entrance framed by pillars. Brown streaks discolored the walls, and areas of the roof had been stripped of shingles, leaving only wooden beams. The windows on the bottom floor were boarded with thick planks, and the windows on higher levels were edged with broken fang-shaped shards of glass. Evelyn counted five mostly intact windows.

  “He lives here?”

  “He does.” Draven strode forward. As they neared the door, he cast a glance behind him as if to reassure himself of her presence. He knocked twice on the wooden door.

  “Who is it?” someone asked from the other side.

  “Draven. I’ve come to make a few inquiries of Braaten.”

  To Evelyn’s surprise, a hook-nosed woman cracked open the door. Evelyn had been expecting a buff bodyguard. Despite her sharp nose, she was still pretty, with wide, lustrous eyes rimmed in thick golden lashes.

  Draven shoved his brown cloak behind him and leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest. Stick him in a three-piece suit, and he could’ve been a cover model. “Bulya, wasn’t it?”

  The woman snorted. “Bulga.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” A heart-stopping grin spread across his lips. “Bulga. Would you mind letting us in? Braaten is a friend of mine.”

  The door thudded shut, and a soft snick announced it’d been locked.

  “Well, aren’t you the charmer?” Evelyn elbowed him.

  Draven grimaced. “Yes, well, typically she’s more amenable than that.”

  Something twisted in her chest. “Really?” Draven had always seemed rather flirtatious with her, so it shouldn’t have surprised her that he acted the same way toward other women. But she’d been hoping his behavior toward her was… special. She folded her arms. Tuteno. And just as she’d really been getting to like him.

  Draven’s forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows rose. “What?”

  “So you know her pretty well then, huh?”

  His cheeks dimpled. “You’re jealous.”

  “No, of course not.” She lowered her voice and added, “I’m the queen. What do I have to be jealous of?”

  His green eyes sparkled. “You tell me.”

  “And I’m married.”

  “You and I both know it wasn’t consensual, so it’s not a real marriage.” He set his back against the wall. “But fear not. I don’t blame you for being jealous over someone such as myself.”

  Before she could threaten to pummel his pretty face, the door swung open.

  An elderly man peered at them, one eye magnified by a cracked monocle. “Ah, Draven! You’ll have to excuse Bulga. The business hasn’t gone as well lately, so her pay has taken a cut, I’m afraid.”

  Draven bowed with a flourish and a wink in her direction. “After you.”

  She marched past him, and Draven shut the door behind them.

  The main room was spacious but eerily empty, save for a few stone pillars and stained pieces of furniture. The Lux stones above shone dimly, casting them in an eerie yellow light and tossing slender shadows across the floor. With all of the boarded windows, no other light came in.

  She turned and found the old man assessing her with a cool gaze.

  He clasped his grimy hands together and rubbed them. “What a peculiar figure. How much do you want for her? I know quite a few clients who prefer their servants a bit on the exotic side, and I think she could catch a fair price.”

  Evelyn swallowed tightly. A fair price? Was he expecting Draven to sell her as a slave? She stumbled back a step, her gaze swerving to Draven to search for signs of betrayal or deceit.

  But Draven’s gaze was glued to the old man. “She’s not for sale, Braaten.”

  Braaten’s chin crumpled as his lip jutted out in a pout. “What is she? A palace maid? I doubt anyone would miss her. The palace has plenty of maids as is.”

  Draven slid in front of her, shielding her from Braaten’s eyes. “No. I’m here to deal in information, not people. If you don’t have what I need, we can simply go elsewhere.”

  He huffed. “Fine, fine. Why don’t you and your maid seat yourself? And then we can have a discussion over a lovely drink of korosasth.” Braaten led them over to a divan.

  Draven seated himself first, and the cushions dipped beneath his weight. When Evelyn sat, she found it so soft and saggy that she had to strain away from Draven to keep from falling against him.

  Bulga crossed the room and shoved a mug into Evelyn’s hand with enough force to make its contents slosh over her wrist. Bulga handed another to Draven and a third to Braaten before disappearing into a hallway.

  Evelyn sipped at hers politely, only to nearly cough it up. Its cinnamon taste was so intense it scorched her tongue. She set it on the floor, doubting she’d want to drink any more.

  Braaten tilted the mug up, took a large gulp, and swiped the froth off his grizzly chin. “What can I do for you, my boy?”

  “We found a razor net and a note, and we were wondering if you could identify the owner of the razor net.” Draven handed Braaten the note.

  Braaten unfolded it and looked it over. “Seems like it’s from the Scorpio… A razor net, eh? Who was it set up for?”

  “That’s irrelevant. Can you tell us anything more?”

  “Afraid not.” Braaten handed the note back.

  Draven flipped a coin in the air, and it landed in Braaten’s lap. “Well, thank you for your time. We won’t trouble you any longer.”

  That was it? Draven wasn’t going to press for any more information?

  “Wait,” she said.

  Braaten eyed her with raised brows.

  “Do you know anything else about the Scorpio? Like what they’re trying to achieve? Or how to find them?”

  The old man’s cackling laugh echoed. “How to find them? You needn’t worry about that. If they left a razor net and a note, they’ll no doubt find you.”

  She huffed. Well, he wasn’t much help. Evelyn began to rise, but a sudden bout of dizziness made the room spin. She thumped back onto the couch.

  Draven’s arm encircled her, and she leaned against his solid warmth. “Evelyn?” He glanced at her goblet. “The korosasth. How much did you drink?”

  She placed her hand on her forehead. “Just a sip.”

  Draven glared at Braaten. “What did you put in the korosasth?”

  Braaten shrugged his knobby shoulders. “Just something to relax her nerves a bit.”

  The jerk. They paid him money for worthless information, and he drugged her. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  “Earth?” Braaten’s eyes brightened, and he eyed her again. “Interesting… I’m afraid tainting your korosasth serves little purpose, since the Duke didn’t drink any. If you had, you both would have taken a lovely little nap, and I could’ve taken you into my employ, little maid. If that is indeed what you are.”

  Chills prickled her skin. He had been trying to drug her and kidnap her? “I want to leave, Draven.”

  Draven rose, his arm hugging her against him. “Thank you for your assistance, Braaten. I’m afraid we must be going.”


  When they’d reached the door, Braaten lurched out of his chair. “You’re a Hybrid, aren’t you?”

  Draven opened the door and ushered her out, but not before she heard Braaten say,

  “And not just any Hybrid, hmm? The Queen herself, the one the Scorpio want.”

  Draven turned back, jaw muscles flexing. “You’ll not speak of this to anyone, Braaten.”

  “Oh, no. Of course not.” His grin curled at the corners. “Guard my soul, hope to die, stick a sweet tart in my eye. Never would I even dream of betraying you,” he swept into a gallant bow, “Your Majesty.”

  Draven shut the door and interwove her fingers with his. “I think it’s time we expedite our trip.”

  She pressed a hand to her head, hoping it would still the swaying streets and buildings. “But we didn’t learn anything we didn’t already know.”

  “There’s hardly anything else to know anyhow. Now that we’ve looked, you will uphold your side of the bargain and stop with this nonsense. It’s time we focus on your escape rather than hunting down the Scorpio.”

  “What if they assassinate me before I can escape?”

  “They won’t. I’m sure of it.” Draven tugged her along.

  She scowled at his back. There was no way he could guarantee that. And now he wanted her to just pretend the Scorpio weren’t trying to kill her?

  She slipped her hand away from his and folded her arms as she walked.

  Draven glanced back, and once he was assured she followed him, continued to worm his way through the crowds.

  Well, even if she hadn’t learned anything during this excursion, at least she’d gotten to see the city—even if it was begrimed in poverty. The crowds grew denser, clumping so tightly together Evelyn could hardly see more than two people in front of her. Through the thrum of voices, she couldn’t help but overhear one conversation in particular:

  “The Queen is completely and utterly useless. The King married her so he could change the laws around here, yet what’s happened? Nothing.”

  Evelyn turned to see two elderly women, one plump and one big-boned with a muscular build. The latter looked like she could take on a bear.

  The big-boned woman rummaged through her basket, apparently counting the number of fruits she had. “Now, now, Bellia. Remember that she’s only a Hybrid—and a human one at that. How much should we really expect of her?”

  The plump lady thrust her fists on her generous hips. “King Vulcan was a selfish tyrant—”

  “Bellia! Lower your voice.”

  “—yet Queen Amara nearly made up for his shortcomings. She spoke with commoners like ourselves, charmed the nobles, planned celebrations, and—most importantly—produced an heir. Despite his Hybrid appearance, he’s turned out to be a fine king. It’s unfortunate he doesn’t have a queen to match.”

  Heat surged through her chest and winged across her cheeks—a fusion of anger and embarrassment. This woman didn’t have any right to speak about her in such a manner. Between planning an escape and avoiding being assassinated, she barely had time for silly things like planning balls.

  Though, to be fair to the woman, she likely didn’t know that. From her perspective, the last queen had fully devoted herself to the kingdom, while Evelyn had done nothing.

  It still hurt to think she was viewed so poorly. Still, with her escape sixteen days away, her reputation here was hardly a concern.

  A guttural snarl sent goosebumps shooting across her skin, snapping her out of her thoughts. Where had Draven gone?

  It only took her a moment to scan the crowd and pick out his lean, tall figure.

  As she neared Draven, fixing her eyes on his gray cloak, she went on her tiptoes to see what the commotion was about. Ahead of them loomed a cage, its metal bars jagged and shimmering. There was a blur of black, and the crowd lurched away from one side of the cage, some of them laughing, some shrieking.

  Draven wove closer to the cage, and she followed. There was a creature inside, its back as high as Draven’s chest. Its eyes were molten pools of gold, flickering from one person’s expression to the next with an intelligence that chilled her. Its teeth were as white as wave crests, slender and curved. In the corner of its mouth was a black gap; one tooth was missing.

  A wolf—a giant, beastly wolf with fur as black as the stuff of nightmares.

  She tugged on Draven’s sleeve. “What is—” She glanced up at him and stifled a yelp.

  That wasn’t Draven.

  The man’s bulbous nose crinkled over his frizzy mustache. “Well, hello… woman-girl.” His hand latched onto her wrist. “Are you volunteering to provide us with a little entertainment?” He pushed her closer to the bars of the cage.

  Her gaze darted to his gray cloak. Draven’s had been brown. How could she have forgotten? She tried wriggling out of his grip. Pulling her rank on him was tempting, but she had a feeling it’d get her into more trouble—especially considering those women’s comments.

  “Release me!”

  The man chuckled and shoved her closer. Warm, sticky breath slipped down her neck. She glanced back, and found the wolf’s luminous eyes inches from hers, and its jaw even closer. Up close, it was apparent the wolf had been neglected. Its fur was matted and its skin clung to its ribs.

  The man edged her closer, and the starving wolf’s nostrils and pupils flared.

  She twisted out of the man’s grip.

  He released her with a bellowing laugh, and some people chuckled. Evelyn darted through the crowd until it thinned enough for her to see. She swayed sharply to the left and caught herself against the wall of a building.

  Where was Draven? Not only did she not know her way back, but the world wouldn’t stop tilting.

  One man wore a brown cloak, but his build was stout and thick. Someone’s frame was tall and slender, but it was a woman with daggers dangling from her waist.

  She stumbled in the direction Draven had been going before she’d lost him. If she kept going this way, she’d run into him. Eventually. She stuck to the main parts of the road, avoiding the dark alleys. Just looking at them made her palms clammy.

  She rounded the corner of a building. A hand shot out and dragged her into the alley.

  “Drav—” Her throat seized up as an unfamiliar figure peered down at her from the darkness of his cloak.

  Once again, not Draven.

  With a sudden jerk, Evelyn found her back pressed tightly to his chest. Something narrow and cold brushed against the curve of her neck, and she stiffened.

  He bent close. “You wanted to find the Scorpio? Now you’ve found them. Congratulations.” The voice was surprisingly soft, almost melodious.

  She swallowed tightly. Braaten must have betrayed them after all. She wasn’t surprised he’d sold them out, only that he’d done so that quickly. “What do you want with me?”

  The dagger continued to caress her neck. “I think you know.”

  “But… why? What did I ever do to you?”

  “It’s not anything you did or didn’t do.” The knife’s tip hovered over her skin for a moment before drifting down, past her shoulder, her collarbone, then gliding to a standstill above her heart. “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  He applied pressure, and a drop of blood trickled down her chest.

  She gasped and pressed closer to the man. “So you w–want Kimberly to be queen?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want, only what Sephtis wants… and he’s longed for your disappearance for a very long time.” The man raised the dagger, and his arm tensed, as if he were going to plunge it into her chest.

  Something glittered through the air, and the assassin released the dagger with a muttered curse.

  Evelyn ducked beneath his arms and ran blindly through the alley until she rammed into someone. She glanced up. The sight of Draven’s face sent a warm wash of relief over her skin. Draven shoved her behind him, and she clung to the back of his cloak. Partly to steady the swirling in her head
, partly because she just wanted to keep him close.

  Draven’s hand movements were so fluid, another dagger practically glided into his palm. “Leave her alone.”

  The assassin stilled, cradling his bloodied hand against his chest. His gaze locked with Draven’s, and his eyes glittered beneath the darkness of his hood. Then he scooped up his dagger and disappeared around the corner of the alley.

  That was it? The assassin wasn’t even going to try? Evelyn’s gaze slid to Draven. Why didn’t the assassin think he could take on a duke? Or maybe he had assumed Draven was her bodyguard.

  Draven didn’t even glance at her.

  “Draven? Is something—”

  He made a slicing motion with his hand, and she fell silent. After ten seconds, he finally turned, placed a hand on her back, and strode out of the alley. “Never turn your back on an assassin.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Because the last time I did, someone else paid for it.”

  “Your mother?”

  He nodded curtly. “They say she died of Bloodburn, but certain poisons can cause similar symptoms.”

  “Do you think it was the Scorpio?”

  He shook his head. “No. But I know who was responsible.”

  She waited, but no further explanation was forthcoming. “So why do you think this Sephtis dude wants me to die so badly? You said he was some sort of master of poisons, right?”

  “The Master of Poisons, rather.” Draven pulled her to the side of the road.

  She narrowly missed being run over by someone barreling through the streets, a wagon of pots clanging behind him.

  “What did the assassin say?” Draven’s hand drifted down her forearm to clasp her hand.

  Since things hadn’t gone so well the last time she’d refused to hold his hand, she allowed it. “He implied that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. So maybe they wanted my sister to be queen instead? I don’t really know. He also said that Sephtis had wanted me to disappear for a very long while.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Excellent?”

  “If he wants you to disappear, he should stop hunting you once we’ve escaped.”