She swallowed the fear that had suddenly risen inside of her. “How far down?” Her voice sounded wobbly to her own ears.
“Far. Prepare yourself. And don’t let go of the railing.” Grey stopped and looked up at her. “Your father’s crimes are grave. In accordance, he’s being held in the dungeon.” The darkness obscured his face, his ominous tone raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
“His purported crimes,” she said.
“Of course.” Grey continued down the stairs.
She didn’t want to follow into the darkness, but what choice did she have? As they descended, the temperature dropped, the air became damp, and the steps narrowed and shortened. She clung to the railing for life and sanity. The overwhelming sense that she was marching willingly to her own doom filled her. The disgusting, sticky cobwebs clinging to her arms didn’t help calm her. She wanted to rub at her skin to get rid of the cobwebs, but she was afraid to let go of the rail. She gritted her teeth and kept her hand on the rail.
When they reached the end of the stairs, she gasped and rubbed at her arms.
“What’s wrong?” Grey’s tone vibrated with worry.
“Cobwebs.” She couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice.
“Maybe you’re more like the average woman than I thought.”
She glared at him in the darkness. “I’m not like the average woman. Cobwebs are disgusting.”
He chuckled. “Come.”
She followed him through a creaky door and stopped in a room where mold and dirt swirled in the air and filled her nostrils. Coughing, she eyed the door she assumed led to her father’s room and tried to ignore the despair rising in her chest and threatening to spill over.
Bitter laughter escaped her. “I’m surprised they don’t have a guard down here.”
Grey held up a key. “There’s no need. There’s no way out except the way we just came from, and there’s no way into this room except this key.” With a click of the lock, the door creaked open. Madelaine stepped inside, not sure what to expect. Her father stood in the middle of the room facing her. His clean-shaven appearance took her by surprise. She’d been expecting him to be ragged.
“Madelaine.” Her father opened his arms, and she rushed into his warm, loving embrace. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes and leaked down her cheeks. Behind her, the door clicked shut. Later, she would have to thank Grey for giving her time alone with her father. She pulled out of her father’s embrace and studied him, looking for signs of abuse. “Have they been kind to you?”
A smile twisted his lips. “As kind as you’d expect men bent on proving my guilt to be.”
“But I see no bruises or cuts. It appears they’ve not raised a hand to you.”
Her father scrubbed a hand across his face. “No, Maddie. They’ve not beaten me. You can be sure they have other ways of trying to gain a confession from me.”
She wrinkled her brow, considering what her father had said. “What ways?”
“Come.” He led her to the table in the corner of his room. “Let’s not waste our time together on how they mean to coerce me. There’s no preventing it anyway, and we’ve important matters to discuss.” Her father’s gaze danced around the room and settled on a crack in the brick. He stared overly long at the crack, then turned his gaze away and stared at his hands mumbling about “not being sure” while his fingers clutched and unclutched hers.
“Father.” She gripped his fingers in order to get him to stop his rhythmic motion. For a moment, it seemed he hadn’t heard her. His mumbling continued and his fingers moved spasmodically under hers, and then suddenly it stopped and his blood-shot gaze rose to her face.
“Father, I know you’re not guilty!”
His expression was vacant. “It matters not. I’ll likely die in here.”
“Don’t say that.” She moved her chair until she sat beside him. “You’re innocent, and we’ll prove it. I’ll prove it.”
His cloudy gaze became alert and clear, his hands clutching her arms in a grip that made her wince. “Listen to me, Madelaine.” His voice reverberated off the stone walls. “Stay out of this. You’re but a mere woman. God help me, your mother was right and I was wrong. Act like a woman, not the creature I was raising you to be. Forget everything I ever taught you and leave this place as quickly as you can before they hang me, despite my innocence, and then perhaps turn an eye to punishing you for the crimes they’ve decided I committed.”
Madelaine scrambled to her feet wanting to escape the horror of what her father was saying, but her legs barely held her up from their trembling. She stumbled and then righted herself by pressing a hand against the slick wall. “Don’t speak as if you’re already dead. We will prove your innocence. I know you wouldn’t steal from the king and murder a man. You’re good.”
Her father rose and made his way to stand in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her, led her to his cot and sat them both down on the mattress. He pressed his mouth near her ear, his warm breath tickling her. “I’m not guilty of all they say, but I am guilty of some of it.” His words filled her head and poisoned her heart. She bit her lower lip on her cry, but she could not stop her sharp intake of breath. “Make your way home. I’ve hidden money in the wine cellar and the king’s paper in a green bottle on the fourth shelf. Get the paper to the prince. He’s the only one who can save me.”
The door slammed open, causing her to jump. She jerked away from her father. Grey’s face flickered in shadows. As he came closer, she could see the concern in his eyes. Grey clutched her arm and pulled her away from her father. “That’s all the time they’ll allow us, Madelaine.”
She didn’t have time to protest as she was tugged toward the door.
“Don’t trust anyone,” her father called to her back. She looked over her shoulder, and her father pointed at Grey. “Don’t forget. Trust no one. Least of all him.”
