‘You should be feeling fine in a few hours. Is there anything I can get you?’
I wanted to say a hug, but couldn’t bring myself to beg for his affections; so instead I shook my head.
‘I’ll let you sleep. Next time you wake up you’ll feel a little closer to normal. Then I’ll take you out into the gardens. The light and the greenery will lift your mood.’
‘That’d be great.’ I wiped my eyes and forced myself to smile at Marko, to assure him I was okay. He smiled back, but his eyes didn’t. Was he disappointed somehow? Did I not live up to his memories of me? What happened to ‘I care for you, more deeply than I’ve cared for any other girl…’
‘Wait, Marko.’
‘Yes?’
Hang on. Did his eyes just flicker with something that looked like hope?
‘I…um…just want to…’ Argh! I couldn’t say it. As much as I wanted to let him know that I still had feelings for him—strong, romantic feelings—the words wouldn’t come. I had to think of something else to say, quickly. ‘Um…is Damir still in the dungeons?’
Marko’s face turned to stone, superfast and scarily so, his eyes equally as hard. ‘Yes. He’s still there. Though I’d much rather him dead.’ He sighed and stared at the ground for a long time. ‘It’s Sylvia I keep him alive for. She and Damir were so very close as children, true twins, that I somehow feel his death would affect her wellbeing.’
‘And how is Sylvia?’ I asked, my voice catching at the abrupt change in him. I wanted the warm Marko back, the one who’d joked that I’d moaned and groaned in my sleep; but I had to ask after her. I needed to know if he’d listened to my hysterical ravings and warnings last year.
A slight frown wrinkled Marko’s forehead. ‘Sylvia is well.’ He stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck, an invisible wall shooting up between us, before saying a curt, ‘Goodnight.’ On his way across the room he gestured with a wave of his arm to a small dining table with a tray of food, a carafe of wine and another of water. ‘There’s plenty to eat and drink, so feel free to help yourself.’
My question about Sylvia had hurt and bothered him. I shouldn’t have asked about her yet. She was his sister and also the only mother he’d known. He wasn’t exactly going to love hearing that I still thought she was a threat to his throne and his life. He wouldn’t listen to me last year, so why would he now?
He closed the door behind him, sealing his room off from mine. I wished that he’d kept it open; at least then I’d feel connected to him somehow. Like this, I felt so alone and shut off; not only from Marko, but also from the rest of the world.
I was literally on my own, at the bottom of the cold dark sea.
Settling back beneath the covers, I thought of Lauren, all alone like me, especially now that she and Jackson were over. Nana and Pop would keep her occupied for the time being, as would her retail job at the city fashion boutique. Also, having no-nonsense Aunty Lynn there would help. From what I could remember of our childhood, she ran her house with military precision, but had a warm, caring heart and shared a close bond with Lauren. She’d be Lauren’s rock. And Nana would be comforted to have her sister living with her. They’d always been as close as twins, Pop used to say.
Tears blurred my eyes at the thought of Nana asking after me. Hopefully Lauren wouldn’t tell them the truth of my whereabouts. Hopefully she’d stick to the ‘staying with friends’ story I’d made her memorise. They would eventually carry on, unaware that their youngest granddaughter had chosen another life, in a foreign world, with a guy who may or may not reciprocate her feelings, and a bunch of people whom she didn’t truly know.
I rolled over and buried my face in the soft pillow, which smelt faintly of sea salt. Marko was in the next room, and yet I felt further away from him now than when we’d been oceans apart.
Perhaps hours later, I opened my eyes to the dim glow of the light-crystal lamps on the bedside tables. With a clear, drug-free head, I scrambled out of bed and approached the main door to my room. Maybe I’d catch Anne in the corridors on her rounds. From the day I met her, when she brought in my first meal during captivity, I had instinctively known she was going to be someone I could trust. It would be so good to see her again. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to say goodbye in my rushed exit last year.
The heavy wooden doors creaked and groaned when I pushed against them, the sound echoing down the vast hallway. A draft of cool air tickled the sweat-dampened tendrils of hair that had stuck to my neck.
Someone coughed and I froze. A huge, muscled guard sat in a chair right in front of Marko’s double doors. He raised his head and fluttered sleepy eyes at me before suddenly leaping to his feet, daggers in each hand.
I nearly screamed, but recognised him before I did.
‘Jordon,’ I whispered, before swearing beneath my breath. ‘You scared the hell out of me.’ He was dolphin-loving Henrietta’s brother. A guard I could trust. I felt immediately better about Marko’s safety now that I knew Jordon was looking out for him.
‘What’s wrong?’ he nearly shouted. ‘Is it Marko?’
‘Shhh. No. He’s gone to bed, I think.’ We locked eyes and I grinned at the way his blond hair stuck up in different directions. ‘Nice to see you again.’
He scowled at me. ‘You got me into big trouble the last time I saw you, running off into the city like that, on my watch.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ I stared at the ground, at my bare feet, which were freezing on the smooth, stone floor. Jordon seemed grumpier than I’d remembered. I turned to retreat to my room when I heard a low rumble of laughter. Henrietta’s brother was grinning at me, his light-blue eyes sparkling with humour.
‘I’m just messing with you, Miranda. It’s good to see you again.’ He bent forward and sheathed the two daggers on the inside of his long, black boots, the muscles in his arms flexing as he did so. ‘I’m not sure I can forgive you for stealing what should have been my room, though. I have to share with Jonathan and one of the older guards, and they both snore. There are only two beds in our room so I have to sleep on the floor.’
I shrugged, unsure what to say, but then he grinned, revealing straight white teeth.
‘No, seriously, Marko kept this room for you since the day you left. Nobody has touched it. And I wouldn’t know if Jonathan or Brent snore because we each take turns guarding Marko as well as the castle entrance, so there’s only one of us sleeping in the room at a time.’ He winked.
Shaking my head, I finally smiled. He was such a dork.
A door closed somewhere far off in the castle and Jordon immediately straightened his spine then nodded his head. ‘That’s just Sylvia turning in for the night. You develop a keen sense of hearing when you spend most of your time in silence.’
‘That’s good to know,’ I said, reassured by his heightened senses, before realising that it wasn’t actually good to know this. I didn’t exactly want him listening to my every move or eavesdropping on my and Marko’s conversations. He must have realised what I was thinking, because his cheeks coloured a little and he laughed.
‘I don’t hear everything; just the important sounds. Everything else gets filtered out. I’m here to protect Marko—and you—that’s all.’ The chair scraped against the stone floor as he sat down.
I nodded and gnawed on my bottom lip.
‘So…does Marko have many enemies?’ I asked hesitantly. A sudden cold draft sent goosebumps up my legs and across my arms.
Jordon avoided my eyes and stared down the length of the corridor. ‘Not since Damir’s arrest. But it’s best to take precautions.’ He tapped his foot against the ground and alternately beat the dagger hilts like he was playing the drums, but in an agitated way. I watched him for a moment before he stopped and smiled shyly. ‘Henrietta hates it when I do that.’
‘I don’t mind.’ I rubbed at my arms. ‘How is Henrietta?’ I asked, grateful that he’d mentioned her. It was obvious I’d made him uncomfortable asking about enemies and I didn’t want him to put a
ny walls up between us so soon—like I’d already made Marko do.
He shrugged, but his face seemed to redden within a second and his hands balled into fists.
‘She’s engaged.’
‘Engaged?’ I smiled. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’
‘He’s a guard, like me. Well, if you can call him a guard. He works at the Colosseum.’ The hilt tapping started again. It was clear he didn’t think much of this guard his sister was marrying. After about a minute of jiggling around, he stopped.
‘Can I get you anything, Miranda? The new chef, Maria, is a good woman. She doesn’t mind us sneaking in for a late-night bite.’
I thought of Dina, the chef who’d helped the horrible, treasonous guard William to kill Pat, a kitchen-hand who had been so kind to me and had ended up saving my life. I still had nightmares about the sickening crack of the death-blow William had delivered to Pat’s skull.
‘Are you all right? You look pale,’ Jordon asked, getting to his feet.
‘Oh.’ I rubbed at my eyes and yawned. ‘I think I’ll get back to sleep. It feels late. Do you know what time it is?’
‘After midnight,’ he said, before stretching his bulging arms out and folding them behind his head. ‘Only five hours to go and I get to sleep in a soft bed.’ He winked at me and grinned. ‘Sweet dreams, Miranda.’
‘Say hi to Henrietta for me,’ I whispered, before slipping back into my room.
I closed the door but, instead of going to bed, headed straight for the dining table. There was no need for me to ask the kitchens for a midnight snack. A delicious assortment of food awaited me, and my empty stomach groaned with excitement. Though the big table was only set for one, which kind of made me feel even lonelier than I already did, it gave me the licence to pig out big-time, without an audience.
There was a plate of cold prawns, already peeled and coated in a parsley dressing, a salad of cherry tomatoes and delicate slices of cucumber. There was a fresh round loaf of bread, which I immediately ripped into, tearing off a chunk and then topping it with a marinated prawn before shoving it into my mouth.
I washed it all down with a long gulp of cool water. After I’d demolished all of the prawns and had my fill of the deliciously crunchy salad, I sipped on another glass of water and took in my surroundings with a little more appreciation than I had done when I’d first woken.
There was an ensuite, and to its side there was a bookshelf crammed full of books. Setting the water down, I hurriedly wiped my hands with a white cloth and ran over to the shelf to study each and every spine, caressing them with my fingers, feeling every crease and indentation. I wondered if Marko had brought the books in especially for me, or if they’d once belonged to Robbie.
A sense of unease washed over me, to be looking at Robbie’s things without his permission or knowledge. But surely Marko would have wanted to rid the room of all things Robbie before he had put me in here?
I closed my eyes and tried to push Robbie from my mind. It was hard to imagine him living another life outside of the castle. Did he live by himself? Or had he now settled down with somebody like Lily, his childhood friend? A tiny prickle of jealousy tickled the back of my neck, but it was completely unreasonable. I had no claim on Robbie, sisterly, friendly, or otherwise. I’d pretty much ruined his friendship with Marko, and they’d been like brothers.
No. That wasn’t true. Sylvia had ruined Robbie and Marko’s brotherly bond, not me. It was her lies that had poisoned things between them.
When I opened my eyes they fell on a massive hardcover resting on top of the bookshelf. It was a book I’d always wanted to read, The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett.
‘Perfect,’ I whispered. I needed something huge and epic to temporarily sweep me away from my very odd current predicament.
I lugged the huge slab of a book back to bed with me and was soon sucked into the darkness and danger of medieval England. For the first hour or so the distraction of the story worked, but then I heard what I thought was a low voice, mumbling, and then a soft moan, from behind Marko’s door, and I couldn’t read another word.
Setting the book down and using the corner of the bed-sheet as a bookmark, I got up and tiptoed across the room. Putting my ear to the door that separated us, I strained to listen, but heard nothing. Perhaps he’d rolled over in his sleep. Or, perhaps he had—I hated to think it—company. It was all too easy to remember the way the women of Marin had looked at Marko, as though he was some kind of man-banquet they wanted to dig into.
I edged away from the door, sickened at the idea of Marko with someone else. But then an irresistible pull drew me back. The need to know was overpowering.
Without pausing to consider my actions, I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned. It was unlocked. At a snail’s pace, I opened the door and peered inside the room, the hinges creaking in the process.
As I’d recalled, Marko’s quarters were much larger than mine. Though most of the area—the dining room and lounge—were well lit with light-crystal chandeliers, his bedroom was dim, lit only by a lone light-crystal lamp on the bedside table.
He was in bed, alone, sprawled out on his back with an arm thrown across his face. His chest was bare, pale and smooth. I stood there gaping at his spectacular sleeping form. The noises I’d heard had been Marko’s sleep talk.
Before I could backtrack to my room, Marko stirred, moved his arm away from his face and opened his eyes. He lay there, blinking at me for a moment, with that lost, dreamy look on his face, as if he wasn’t quite awake yet. Perhaps if I retreated without saying a word, he’d roll over and go back to sleep, and forget I had ever entered his room.
But just as I drew the door to a close, Marko said, ‘Miranda,’ in a low, sleep-gravelly voice that sent a thousand warm tingles spreading across my skin.
I sucked in a deep breath and opened the door, halfway, so that only a portion of my peeping-Tom face showed.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked.
‘Sorry. I couldn’t sleep and I thought…thought I’d heard something.’ I drew the door almost shut. God this was embarrassing. ‘I’ll just go back to sleep now.’
‘Wait, come back.’
I gently pushed the door open and slipped back into Marko’s room. It smelled of the beach, and pine, and that distinct man smell that made my blood swish through my veins extra fast.
‘You sure you’re okay?’ He was sitting up now, the sheet bunched up around his waist, his face serious with concern, until a half-smile formed on his lips. ‘I wasn’t snoring, I hope?’
‘No, no snoring. I just thought I heard…voices. It was nothing.’ I kept my eyes on his, not allowing them to slip down to his naked chest. It was a struggle, and a good reason to get out of there, fast. ‘Okay, then, goodnight.’
‘Wait.’ He frowned and chewed on his full bottom lip. ‘Miranda…’ he hesitated for a while after my name, ‘you can come in here whenever you like and wake me, no matter what. That’s why I’ve put you in the adjoining room. I wanted you as close to me as possible while you settle in.’
His words gave me mental images of us ‘as close as possible’ on his bed.
‘Oh. Okay.’ I forced my eyes away from his sexy, sleep-hooded ones, the pupils dilated so that his eyes seemed dark, bottomless pools.
I needed to get out of there before I flung myself at him. He hadn’t yet indicated that he still felt the same way about me. Perhaps he still cared—but just not in that way. He still needed me, after all, for Marin; even if he didn’t want me.
The more I thought about it the more it made sense. He would have told me on the beach, when we’d reunited for the first time, that he still wanted me in that way. He would have demonstrated it physically, somehow, like in a passionate kiss. But he hadn’t. He had probably just turned up at the beach out of politeness, because of his promise; a chaperone to an underwater city and nothing more. Or—and I didn’t want to entertain this thought but I had to be realistic—his reasons for showing up we
re more than likely to do with Marin’s lack of an heir.
‘Why are you staring at me like that?’ Marko ran a hand through his mussed hair and smiled in a way that made my heart melt. ‘Do I have sleep creases on my face or something?’
‘Oh…it’s nothing. I think I’ve got ocean-lag, but…I’m finally feeling sleepy.’
Marko nodded and eyed me thoughtfully. ‘You’d let me know if you were feeling ill or if anything was wrong? I’d like to think that we’re friends enough for you to trust me.’
And there it was—friends. Oh God. I’d been friend-zoned by the guy I was in love with.
‘I do trust you.’ My throat tightened and my eyes stung. A dark feeling spread through my chest, as though a great hollow had opened up and sucked my heart into oblivion. I felt stupid to have hung my hopes so high on the idea of Marko and I being together after a year apart.
‘Okay…so, goodnight.’ I waved, like an idiot, before scurrying out of his room.
Closing the door behind me, I leant against it, catching my breath. In a bid to stem the impending tears I sank my teeth into my bottom lip and counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty, until a strange calm passed over me.
In a sense, knowing that Marko only saw me as a friend gave me some kind of clarity. Instead of focusing on flirting and guessing his feelings towards me I could concentrate on the other reason I came down to Marin: to make certain the city and Marko were safe, and to find out once and for all if Sylvia was as true as Marko believed.
I ended up reading into the early hours. It wasn’t until halfway through the book before my eyes became heavy and I finally fell asleep.
While sleeping, I dreamed Marko came into my room. Bare-chested, and looking like some kind of dark-haired angel, he knelt down beside the bed and pressed his wine-stained lips, feather-light, against my own, before disappearing into the blackness of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
THE NEXT MORNING, remembering Marko’s promise of a visit to the gardens, I dragged myself out of bed, forcing the memory of last night’s depressing conversation out of my head, and opened the wardrobe, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a fitted black-and-white striped stretch top. The temperature in Marin was controlled into seasons by their source of energy, the light crystals. If I remembered correctly, it was the end of their summer and the beginning of autumn. I eyeballed Marko’s door and debated knocking on it to see if he was awake, when I noticed that it was slightly ajar. Certain that I’d closed it last night, I wondered if maybe I hadn’t dreamed up his visit, and if perhaps the dream-kiss had been real.
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