The Bound (Ascension #2)(49)

“Well, we’re not going to give him that opportunity,” Cyrene told her.

“Wait…how did you get into the castle in the first place?”

Cyrene sighed and rolled her eyes. “Orden.”

“Did he commit high treason or something?”

“No. Lord Barkeley Iolair received a summons to appear in Court from King Creighton.”

Maelia furrowed her brows.

“Apparently, that is Orden’s real name, and he is cousin to the King.”

“I knew something was off about him!” Maelia cried.

“Yes. Well, we’ll have to deal with that another day. In the meantime, we need to find a suitable exit strategy for the ball, find a boat to take us to Eleysia, and”—Cyrene couldn’t hold back her giggle—“suitable clothes that will knock Jesalyn speechless.”

Maelia smiled. “I think I know just the thing.”



Maelia figured out where Orden and his guests had been given rooms and then started out in that direction with Cyrene and Avoca in tow.

“I’ve been here a week. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to leave the castle or venture onto the grounds, so when I wasn’t with Kael or Jesalyn, I searched for an exit.”

“And did you find one?” Cyrene asked hopefully.

Maelia looked grim. “Nothing that isn’t heavily guarded.”

Once they reached the rooms, Avoca made them keep walking past the door that Maelia had pointed out. They stopped a safe distance away.

“I’m going to go in first, see if the coast is clear, and then give you the signal to come in. I don’t want anyone to recognize you.”

They waited impatiently while Avoca disappeared back down the hallway. It was the first time Cyrene and Maelia had been alone since the night they were separated.

“Maelia, I’m so sorry I left you,” she whispered. “I should never have done that. I should have fought at your side.”

“No. Don’t apologize. We told you to go, and if you had stayed, then we all would have been captured. Where would we be then?” Maelia asked. “Back in Byern.”

“And then I couldn’t get you out in Strat.”

“You’re here now,” Maelia said, grasping her hand and smiling. “We’ll get out this time.”

Cyrene threw her arms around Maelia one more time and sighed.

Avoca whistled softly down the hallway, which was their signal. The girls broke apart and walked briskly to the door.

“You’re not going to like this,” Avoca said. Her nose was wrinkled in disgust.

“Like what?” Cyrene asked.

She found out as soon as she entered the massive quarters that Orden had been given by the King. They dwarfed Maelia’s rooms threefold and were swathed in deep blue and gold. But the smell was undeniable.

“You’re all drunk!” Cyrene cried.

Orden, Ahlvie, and even Ceis’f sat around a couple of clear crystal bottles with dark amber liquor. Their clothing was disheveled, their eyes were glossed over, and they were taking turns in laughing boisterously.

“What in the Creator’s name?” Maelia whispered, shaking her head.

“You found her!” Orden cried in triumph.

Ahlvie staggered to his feet and then stumbled toward Maelia. “So…so glad you’re ba-back,” he said before breaking out into laughter.

“That is quite enough,” Cyrene said.

She stormed across the room and snatched the bottles off the table before they could stop her. Avoca took them out of her hands and went to place them out of reach.

“What exactly is the meaning of all of this?” Cyrene demanded.

Maelia sighed. “I should have guessed they would be in this condition. The King drinks day and night. The first night we were here, Prince Kael returned to the rooms in a worse state than this.” Her cheeks colored lightly, and she looked away.

Cyrene’s jaw tightened. She had seen Kael drunk before. The night he had propositioned her in the castle. The thoughts made her blood run cold.

“Just lay off, Cyrene. We were just having a bit of fun,” Ceis’f said. He looked the least intoxicated of all the guys, but if he was addressing her without biting her head off, maybe she should keep him drunk.

“We’re not going to get anything accomplished with you three drunk,” Avoca spat. “We have a mission. Soldiers shouldn’t drink on the job.”

“We’re not soldiers here, Ava,” Ceis’f said.

It was the wrong thing to say.

She glared at him. “We are always soldiers until our mission is completed. Has your training left your head this quickly? We are not safe in here. We are trapped like mice. And the King purposely got you intoxicated to let your guard down. How can you trust him?”

“We can’t bloody trust him!” Orden bellowed, rising to his unsteady feet and glowering at the lot of them. “And he didn’t purposely get us intoxicated. We purposely got him intoxicated. Do you know the kinds of leading questions he was asking to try to get to me? You don’t. You don’t know anything!”

Everyone stared back at Orden in utter silence. Orden was known to have a temper, but only when Cyrene pushed him past his limit. Otherwise he was a mild tempered man with a flair for adventure.