"How would I know? We didn't follow it. We didn’t come here to infiltrate the castle. We came here to find you two."
I suppose that makes sense. The three of them would've only gotten themselves killed considering how many noctis are supposed to be here.
"You did the right thing," Elison says reassuringly, and I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. It's no wonder he likes her. She's so agreeable. Far from me. "And now we know something that the noctis didn't want us to know. We can use that information to our advantage."
It takes me a moment to figure out what she’s insinuating."Hang on. Are you suggesting that when we break out of these cages that instead of finding the closest exit outside, we wander into a noctis stronghold? No thanks."
"What else can we do?" Rowland asks, voice stern but as quiet as mist in a meadow. "I'm not willing to sit around and wait to die."
“Neither am I!” I counter.
"I'msorry to interrupt but—" a meek voice calls from our cell, and the three of us spin to find Mira rubbing her arms, unsure where to settle her gaze. "But I'm afraid Charlotte is right. That plan is awful. No offense. And, well, it doesn't matter if there's a way out now, anyway. I'm afraid you already missed your window of opportunity."
Rowland leans closer. "How so?"
Elison pinches the brim of her nose. "It's the Hunt, isn't it? We're too late. It's here."
"That can't be right," I say, my thoughts racing. They just assigned us our meal designations. If the Hunt was so soon upon us, why even bother? There must be something else. "What is it, Mira? What do you know?"
"It's not the Hunt," Mira says, and the tightness in my chest temporarily loosens. "Not yet. That's still a few days away. But...it's the king.He'shere now. And I overheard the guards. They said they'd been waiting to commence the celebration until his arrival, and now it seems that they'll begin."
“Begin what exactly?" Rowland asks.
Mira swallows, tucking a chunk of dark hair behind her ear."I—I don't know, exactly. But the way they talked about it, it sounded big. Like the grounds would be crawling with noctis for the rest of the week as they...indulged themselves in their vices."
Soothing herself, Mira’s begins rubbing her arms.
"That’s actually perfect!" Rowland pushes off the bars with excitement. He paces. "That means they'll be distracted. Maybe drunk if we’re lucky."
Elison winces. "Do they drink anything other than..."
Her unfinished question turns my thoughts to Malachi. I do what I can to ignore the burning sensation that consumes me from the inside out, but it refuses to go away. It's like he's still here, watching me in that far-too-intimate way that Rowland sometimes does when he's figuring out more about me and the walls I've put up.
Only, with Rowland it's taken him a decade to fully understand those secret parts of me. Malachi's barely known me a week.
"Maybe," I say, trying to stay focused on the present conversation and getting us out of here as soon as possible. "Prince Malachi was drinking something earlier. It could’ve been wine."
Rowland's expression sours. "PrinceMalachi? You're calling him by name, as well as title now?"
The heat in my chest burns hotter, but I roll my eyes and ignore his very perceptive questioning.
Fuck me for even opening my mouth.
"Whatever was in that glass," Elison interjects, and the way she looks at me makes me wonder if she isn’t intentionally saving me from his accusations. "They’re a bunch of brutes a few nights away from an expedition. If I were them, I’d drink."
The smile Rowland flashes her way makes my heart ache. On second thought, maybe she didn’t interject for me, but for Rowland. Maybe her goal had been to alleviate his frustration, to give him a reprieve from the chaos of the night by granting him the simplest yet most profound things: an opportunity to smile.
Suddenly, I become all too aware again of their close proximity and the way I feel like a weed trying to sprout between two lilies.
"It's getting late," I say abruptly.
“So?” Rowland laughs. “Got somewhere else important to be?”
I cross the small cell to where Mira was cradled earlier and slide to the floor. "It’s been a long night is all. We should rest. We can talk more tomorrow."
I don’t glance their way again, though I think if I had I might’ve caught Rowland watching me, slack-jawed, and trying to work up the words to say. If I had looked a moment later, I would’ve seen Elison step into his line of sight, blocking me from view, and leaning her forehead toward his.
As I curl up on the stone floor, I'm acutely aware of their conversation. Their caring whispers and hushed giggles.
