by Kaylin Lee
He sat beside me on the bed and took my hands in his. “What can I even say to that question? How can I not love you?” His voice was hard, despite the sweet words. “I told you, my heart is yours. That doesn't change when things in this city get worse. I won't leave you in this nightmare alone. I won't. That's not who I am. If you love me too, and I think you do, then you should know that about me.”
I looked down at our clasped hands and then back at his face. He’d lost the good humor. He looked strong, serious, and perhaps a bit intimidating, but the way he held my hand was achingly gentle.
If I loved him, I should know that. Know what? That he wasn't the kind of man who would leave me alone here? My heart pounded wildly. Was he saying he would be here, no matter what—and he truly meant it?
For the first time, it struck me that the words of promise he’d spoken before the magic storm weren’t simply pretty words on the pages of a book, offered by a handsome man with his hand on his heart. They’d been a pledge, a lifelong promise—one he would act on, and one he might die to keep.
I studied the hands caressing mine. They were strong and broad, roughened from constant training but gentle and loving at the same time. He’d bound my wounds and applied the healing salve to save my life countless times. He’d mixed bowls of victus for me and washed our dishes in the little bathroom sink. He’d descended the ladder and squandered his best chance for escape finding more food for me to eat.
I stroked his right palm with my thumb and then ran my hand up his forearm, marveling at the cords of strength. He sucked in his breath.
I leaned toward him. For three days, I’d dreamed of his lips, of this moment. I’d thought I’d never experience his love again. And yet, here I was, ready to take him at his word.
Did it make me evil, that I was willing to let him into my nightmare once again, as my husband?
I leaned closer and licked my bottom lip.
He held completely still, as though he feared to startle me.
For so long, I’d survived on my own. I’d held onto my sanity and feigned peace by myself. And now I wouldn’t be alone any longer. He would never leave me alone. I let the truth of those words sink deep into my heart and accepted them, received them for the truth they held, with no more doubts and no more resistance.
Then I pressed my lips against his, igniting a fire between us.
When the kiss grew too intense, he sat back, chest heaving. “Is that a yes? Will you be my wife? I can't do this—can’t kiss you and go back and forth. I just can't. I've given you my heart. Do I have yours?”
The tower seemed to hold its breath. Could I welcome him into my nightmare? Could I entrust myself to him? If I had to be trapped in this prison, there was no one else I'd rather be with. Perhaps in him, I’d found my freedom.
I gave him a shy, hesitant smile. “Yes.”
~
We wrote our vows on scraps of paper torn from my journal, scratched with my dull pencil—words of love, promise, and sacrifice. He fashioned me a bridal necklace from leather torn from his gear, and I folded him a paper flower in lieu of the traditional garland of promise.
The early evening air smelled of wood smoke and spiceberry soap as we stood in the center of the tower to exchange our vows. When we pressed our hands together, my heart pounded so fast I thought I might faint. I wore my old, blue dress and braided my hair down my back. He wore his black Sentinel uniform. And there, in the hazy, pale twilight of the cloud that still lingered after the attack, we pledged our hearts and our lives.
Later that night, we talked until the sky brightened, lying side by side in my little bed that was both too small and too big. I told him of my dreams, the silly ones, the ones I kept locked away in that dusty cabinet in my mind. He told me of his life in Asylia—his beloved mother and his sisters, the father who’d shown them nothing but cruelty before he left their family and never looked back. He’d smiled as he spoke of the men in the Sentinels who’d become like brothers to him.
Finally, when I couldn't stay awake any longer, he curved his body protectively behind me as I drifted toward sleep.
I was nearly asleep when he spoke the words that changed everything.
“You won't be able to escape until that ankle heals, Zel,” he whispered. “And I'm too weak from that magical storm to take on your mistress myself. If we're going to escape to Asylia, to safety, we're going to need help.”
~
Late the next morning, I awoke, curled up in Darien’s arms. I pressed my face into his chest, relishing the feel of his warm body holding mine. Safety. Comfort. This was perfect, and I never wanted it to change.
He kissed my cheek. “I don't want to go. Believe me, that's the last thing I want.”
“I know,” I said. “I know. It's the right thing. And all the people she's killed. Even her own clan. It's only going to get worse. We have to stop her.” And yet …
“It will only be for a few weeks, if that. I just need to get back to Asylia. When I tell King Anton what's happening here, he’ll agree. The safest thing for all of Theros would be to stop her from taking over Draicia. The balance of power among the clans of Draicia keeps the city stable and stops Draicia from attacking the other cities. That's why he sent me here, after all. He'll listen. They'll send a team. And we will get you home.”
I snuggled closer, unable to speak.
He ran his fingers through my tangled hair. “I will get you home. I promise I will. And you're going to love it there.”
I nodded. “I know.” I kept saying that, didn't I? What else could I say? It was the right thing. It just felt so … wrong.
I couldn't stay here. We couldn't stay here. Something had to change. And if the Asylian Sentinels could defeat the Wasp Queen, didn’t I owe it to Draicia, to the whole land of Theros, to do whatever I could to help stop her?
We shared a bowl of victus while cuddling beneath the blankets. I found the gritty, dry porridge more difficult to eat than usual. I tried to keep a smile on my face, and I tried to meet his eyes as he continued to search my face while we ate. What was he looking for? I didn’t know. Assurance? Hope? I had none of either.
I’d only dreamed of escaping the Wasp’s control in order to be alone so that I wouldn’t be forced to harm anyone else. But now I had yoked myself to Darien, and everything had changed.
It wouldn’t be enough for Darien and me to escape by ourselves and simply scrape by in the Badlands. After all, he was a Sentinel. A soldier. He’d been sent here to find out how the Wasp was becoming so powerful, and now he knew that she was in the process of accomplishing something far more evil and destructive than anyone had ever imagined. He had to take action to stop her. It was his job, wasn’t it?
Besides, I’d never escape while the Wasp still lived. It was that simple. If my ankle healed and I had months to strengthen my own muscles and to grow faster, perhaps I could escape before she could use my True Name. But my ankle was growing worse with each passing day, chaining me to this tower. To her.
No. Something had to change. I understood that. I did.
I just didn't like being the one to pay for that change.
I’d managed to fake a smile when I caught sight of Darien washing our breakfast bowls in the bathroom sink. The bowls were laughably small in his large hands, and his tall form bent low over the sink as he washed them.
Air whooshed out of my lungs in a violent sob. I couldn't do it. I couldn't say good-bye. Not so soon! I buried my head on my knees, and soon, Darien's arms came around me. I tried to calm down, but I couldn’t stop sobbing.
I didn't want to do this. He’d promised he wouldn't leave me alone, and now, my husband, my love, the one I’d entrusted myself to, was leaving me? How could I possibly do this? How could he ask this of me?
“Zel. Zel. Listen to me.”
“No!” I cried between sobs.
I tried to shove him away, but he held me closer. He pulled me toward him so that my face, wet with tears, was buried in the crook
of his neck. The warmth of his skin brought some comfort, but I rejected the sensation. I didn't want comfort. I wanted him to stay.
“Please. Please stay. I'm begging you. Please stay. Don't leave me. Please! You're my husband.” The words poured out of my mouth like an out-of-control river, and I hated myself for saying them. What did I know about husbands? What was I thinking, begging him so? I’d been married for all of one night. But I couldn't say good-bye now. I just couldn't.
“Please.” I said again, my voice pitiful.
He held me without speaking, rubbing my back. He offered no reassurances. No promises. No empty words.
Finally, my tears dried up. I had nothing left to say. I was done. He would go. “Just promise me you'll come back,” I whispered.
“I promise.”
I pulled away.
Regret etched lines on Darien’s face. “I'd stay if I could,” he said.
“I know.”
“We have to get you to safety. You can't stay here. Not anymore. We should get you to Asylia. You'll see. I'll come back. We will defeat your mistress. And you'll be free—completely free. We’ll go to Asylia, and we’ll be together, and I'll never leave you again. I promise. No matter what happens, I will come back for you.” His voice shook as he ground the words out, and I wondered if he was as frustrated as I was.
I shook my head. I was tired of words. We’d said the same ones too many times. I pressed my hands on his chest and kissed him hard, and our lips mingled with the salt from my tears. He kissed me back, and I felt the same frustration in the pressure of his lips. Don't leave, I wanted to say again.
“Zel,” he said, his voice thick. “I—”
Then a voice spoke from the garden. “Rapunzel. Let down your ladder. And do no harm.”
Darien pulled away. “I will come back for you,” he whispered. “I promise.”
I nodded. It was all I could do. He got up, took his pack, and went to the bathroom.
I stood beside the bed and shot one last glance at the door as it clicked shut. We’d already decided he would escape while the ladder was down during my next outing. This was it.
Another sob coursed through me, and it took all my strength to make it a silent one so the Wasp wouldn’t hear as she scaled the ladder. I forced my face into a neutral expression and shoved my wild sorrow down as far as it would go. I had to survive while he was gone so I would be here when he returned. With the Wasp’s violent outings, surviving would demand all my focus.
The Wasp Queen lifted her lithe body through the tower window and strode toward me, a smile on her lips. “Time to go, pet.”
I nodded and started for the window, but she stopped me. “What's that on your face? Have you been … crying?”
I swallowed. What did she care? She already controlled everything about me. Surely, she didn't suspect—
“Hmm. Not my concern,” she said. She strode to the window. “Rapunzel, follow me.”
And I did.
Chapter 8
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. My stomach was constantly twisted in knots, and the nervous fear had me retching every morning. A strange lethargy took over my body, so that I slept all the time when I wasn't on an outing with the Wasp.
My thoughts revolved around Darien. So, this was what heartache felt like. I hated it, and yet … I loved it. I loved him.
Wasn’t it a beautiful thing to love someone so worthy of love? A good thing? How could I regret loving someone so brave and honorable, so faithful? I knew he would come back. One day.
As time passed, my lethargy grew worse. I should have been doing the strengthening exercises he’d taught me, preparing for his return. I could have at least done the exercises that didn’t use my sore ankle. My ankle ached and throbbed every day, but it neither healed nor worsened. I was simply too tired to move any more than I had to.
The Wasp’s outings grew less frequent but more vicious. One by one, beginning with the Wolves, each clan offered tribute to her. Even the small clans that ruled the slums were required to offer tribute, as were the powerless holdovers from the old government. The white-haired professors at the old, crumbling college. The lonely, bespectacled docent of the ransacked historical museum. Each one paid her tribute, under threat of death by my touch. Those who refused to bow the knee met an immediate end at the Wasp’s command.
Then I would go back to my tower and sleep the days away.
I had no desire to write in my journal anymore nor to read any of my old novels. How could I read and dream of imaginary love when I had known real love? How could I read of kisses when I had felt his? How could I read of hope when I was wracked by heartache?
The canister of victus grew lighter. The Wasp Queen sent the occasional bag of food, but I ate it sparingly. Her provisions usually spoiled before I had finished them.
One thought pierced my fatigue and distracted me from dreams of Darien. Just what would the Wasp do when she had subdued all the other clans? What was the point of all this killing? She was only one woman. Her clan members were few now, thanks to her magic, yet she was determined to receive tribute from all the other clans. Why?
I only hoped Darien and his Sentinels would come and stop her before I had a chance to find out.
~
Helis was back. And, as usual, the Wasp was not happy with her work. “Can’t you make it tighter? And shinier? You've used far too much fabric for a Tiger servant girl.”
The sparkling, black dress tightened around me and clung to my figure. I strained to keep my face blank.
“Like this?” Helis’ voice was soft and shaky. How had she survived this long? It was beyond me.
“I suppose.” The Wasp’s sour voice bespoke her foul mood tonight. The fact that I needed a disguise again for the first time in months was not a good sign. It had to mean that she felt she had to rely on her old methods again, that confronting the Tigers head on wouldn’t work. No wonder the Wasp couldn’t be pleased.
Her dominance over Draicia’s clans must be surface level at best. Was that good for me, or was that bad?
Another wave of warm magic washed over me before Helis stepped back. The black, Tiger clan dress hugged my body suggestively, sparkling with imbued magic. The dress’s low neckline showed off my assets a little too well. I narrowed my eyes. Surely, my bust had never been quite so … healthy. Perhaps the dress was cut to enhance that area? I shook my head. How strange.
“What's the matter, pet? You don't like the dress? Not fancy enough for you?” The Wasp’s sharp voice cut through my distraction.
“It's fine.” I coughed. “I mean, it's lovely.”
The Wasp gave me a hard look, as though searching my face for signs of insubordination. Then she tossed her hair back and smirked. “Rapunzel, follow me.”
I followed her out the window and down the ladder into the moonlit garden. The cool autumn air brushed against my face like an icy hand, smelling of smoke from the evening sky and the rotting leaves that lay thick on the path through the wood. Late autumn already? I’d expected Darien to return with his Sentinels by the end of the summer at the latest.
Didn't matter. I would wait as long as it took. He’d promised to come back for me, and I knew he would.
“Wait!”
The Wasp paused, and we both turned back to the tower. Helis looked down at us from the window. “Wait,” Helis said again, breathless. She hurried down the ladder with rapid steps, slipping here and there, with something clutched in one hand. When she reached the ground, she rushed to the Wasp and whispered something in her ear.
The Wasp held out her hand, and the girl put a thin sheet of paper in it. Helis backed up and glanced at me, venom in her eyes.
What was that about?
“Thank you, Helis,” said the Wasp. “You’re dismissed.”
“But—”
“Sophohelis, you’re dismissed.”
The power of Helis’s True Name made the air tingle with magic. Her face fell, and she left
us in the forest, going the opposite way from the fence.
The Wasp resumed walking. I followed close behind her, and then I sat across from her in the fomecoach that waited in the street outside the Wasp compound.
The Wasp tapped the piece of paper on her knee, unfolded it, and read it. The rough paper was torn on one edge, ripped from my journal. Why would Helis take a page from my journal? Why not take the whole thing? Unless—
“Rapunzel, you've been hiding something. Tell me what it is.”
Nerves twisted my stomach in knots. How could I answer such a broad command?
“Rapunzel, you’ve been hiding something about a man. Who is he, and what have you done? Tell me now.”
Nausea threatened to overwhelm me as the fomecoach bumped through the city streets. The vows. Our wedding vows. Why had I kept them? I’d stuffed them into the space between my mattress and my bed, certain that no one would ever find them. Helis must have gone searching for something to give to the Wasp.
Fierce anger coursed through me, but when the command finally found its mark, I had no choice but to answer. “His name is Darien.” I hated the sound of the words as they exited my lips of their own accord. “He’s a soldier from Asylia. And he's my husband.”
The Wasp was silent for several long, uncomfortable moments before she finally spoke. “Your husband, you say? So, he's real? And not in your imagination?”
Heat flashed across my cheeks. “He's real,” I spat out. Did she think I was a foolish child?
“And have you lain together? As husband and wife?”
The heavy weight of dread sank deeper into my stomach. “Yes,” I whispered. “I told you, he's my husband.”
The Wasp flared her nostrils, but then she smoothed her expression into one of indifference. “You may live long enough for me to find out whether you are carrying his child. If you do carry a child, the child will be mine. Either way, your service to me is at an end.”
Chills racked my body. Me, carrying a child? Darien’s child?
“And if you carry no child, I’ll kill you. I have no need for a pet who dares to betray me.” She shook her head, and her face contorted into a strangely sad mask. “After all I've done for you—taking you in from the streets when your own parents would trade you for a bit of gold, teaching you everything you know, giving you a place of honor in my own clan. And this is how you repay me? A secret affair? A secret marriage, even?” She tapped the fingers of one hand on her knee. “No. I have no use for pets like you. And besides, I already have what I want.”
