The Key (27 page)

“
What other option do I have?” Darmik asked. She might have seen glimpses of Lennek’s true personality, but until she really understood him, knew what lengths he’d go to for what he wanted, she didn’t truly comprehend how his mind worked. All Lennek did was point a sword at her aunt and uncle, and she accepted his marriage proposal. Lennek always knew how to get what he wanted, no matter the cost or the consequences.

“Do you want me to marry him? I thought
. . . .” Her voice trailed off. He couldn’t look at her. He tended to avoid thinking about the actual wedding. Standing up against Lennek was treason, and he would get himself killed. But could he really sit back and allow Lennek to have her? What would that do to her? He couldn’t let Rema meet the same fate as Jarcy.

“
Do you feel anything at all for me?” she tentatively asked.

Darmik felt
a whole lot of something for her. He had never felt this way about anyone, ever. He thought he had loved Jarcy—but that was different. He had been young, naïve, and truly hadn’t known what it meant to be in love. But now, with Rema, he was beginning to understand. And he was falling in love with her. He pulled her a few steps away from the window.

Darmik
lifted his hands, gently placing them on either side of her face. Her pale skin was smooth and his hands looked dark against it. She smelled like wildflowers. Rema’s lips parted ever so slightly and her breath caught. She was about to say something when Darmik lowered his face to hers.

And they kissed.

Her lips were soft and warm. His hands lowered to her back, pulling her against him. Rema’s fingers twined in Darmik’s hair, bringing his head even closer to hers. Their bodies melted together. Darmik’s mouth left hers. He kissed her neck, her head tilting back, inviting him in. She tasted better than he thought possible.

Th
ere was no way Darmik would allow Lennek to have her. His hands slid up Rema’s arms to her shoulders and their lips reunited. His fingers accidentally pushed the fabric from her shoulders, and her dress inched down. Rema took a step back, breathing heavily, with one hand holding the fabric around her chest. If she moved that hand, the dress would fall to the ground. Darmik very much wanted to see and feel her entire body. Rema bit her bottom lip and moved closer to Darmik.

There was a loud bang
, and they jumped apart. The sitting room door flew open, slamming against the wall.

“Rema!” Lennek yelled. “Where are you?”

Her eyes widened in panic.

L
ennek entered the bedchamber. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he demanded, focused solely on Darmik. “Trying to commit treason, little brother? Or do you actually think you can win this one?” His face was distorted with rage. “I knew you had a thing for her,” Lennek seethed, moving next to Darmik. He lowered his voice, “But to purposely seduce Rema, my future wife, that is crossing the line.”

Rema pulled
her dress up higher, sliding her left shoulder in. She turned her back to Darmik and faced Lennek. “He wasn’t seducing me.” Rema was about to slide her right shoulder in when Darmik saw it.

The tattoo.

Rema

Lennek twisted
around toward Rema, acknowledging her for the first time. His nose wrinkled in disgust, like she was cow dung.

“Don’t speak to me in such a manner. I
am the Crown Prince.” He lowered his head closer to hers. “And you, my dear, are insignificant.”

Having seen Lennek’s temper before, she knew
the situation was only going to get worse. The last time Rema had angered him, Bren ended up dead. She couldn’t let that happen to Darmik.

Lennek shoved her away and focused his attention
solely on his brother. “You,” he spat, pointing his finger at Darmik’s chest. “When are you ever going to learn? You can’t beat me. I always win. You’ll be sorry for this.” He spun around and left the bedchamber, his cape floating behind him.

Rema
slid her right arm in her dress and faced Darmik. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost—his face was white and his eyes were wide with disbelief.

“We
both need to get out of the castle before your brother returns.” Rema reached for him, but he backed away.

“
You almost fooled me,” Darmik said, shaking his head as he took another step away from her.

“
What are you talking about? Come on, there isn’t much time.”

Lennek returned with her two guards.
“Arrest her,” he ordered.

The guards seized her arms.

“Darmik!” she cried. “Help me!”

His face red
dened, and his nostrils flared. He seemed furious—like he despised her. But what did she do? Darmik stormed from the room.

Rema
frantically tried pulling her arms out of the guards’ clutches. One minute she was kissing Darmik, lost in the moment. Now, everything was falling apart.

“Slut,” Lennek spit. “You think I want someone used by my brother? You’ve committed treason.” He leaned in, inches from her face. “I never lose
. Especially to him.” His voice was laced with hatred.

Lennek stepped back, raised his hand, and
backhanded Rema across her face. The sound echoed in the room. Her cheek stung, and she tasted blood. Lennek smirked, and then adjusted his crown, the light hitting the sapphires, making them sparkle.

“Take her to the dungeon. She’s not fit to be in the same room as me.”

The guards released her arms and nudged her forward, out of the bedchamber.

Tears filled her eyes, whether it was because Darmik
had practically ran away from her, or her swelling cheek, she couldn’t be sure.

The
guards escorted her through the hallways. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry. She didn’t want everyone in the castle to see her in tears, and she wouldn’t give Lennek that satisfaction. Holding her chin up, she followed the guards as they crossed through the castle’s main inner courtyard.

Were they really taking her to the dungeon?
If she ended up imprisoned, not only was her fate sealed, but so were Aunt Maya and Uncle Kar’s. Her only option at this point was to make a run for it. Glancing around, not many people were about, and her hands were free. There were still the two guards to contend with, but she was on the ground floor, the exit in sight. Unfortunately, she was barefoot. When she had put on the white nightdress, she assumed she would be going to bed—not fleeing for her life.

Once she made it out of the castle, h
iding on the grounds wouldn’t work because once a search was raised, she wouldn’t be able to get out undetected. The only chance she had was to make a run for it straight to the city. Rema wished she knew where the secret tunnel Darmik had used was—but she had been concealed in the food cart and had no idea where the entrance was located.

Now t
hey were at the northern end of the courtyard. Through the exit ahead, she could reach the stables, not too far away.

“Don’t,” one of the guards
whispered, slipping his hand around her arm. “You’ll be killed on sight. And you can’t go to the city. He’ll start executing people until you’re handed over or found.”

Rema hesitated a moment,
then her opportunity was gone. They entered another hallway and stopped before a black door with a red crown painted on it. One of the guards knocked three times. Metal clanked, and the door swung open.

“State y
our business,” a raspy voice demanded.

“Prisoner,”
one of the guards answered.

The door
screeched as it opened farther. Darkness awaited them. Goose bumps covered Rema’s skin, and she froze in panic, wondering what was through the darkness.

“Come on,” the guard
holding her upper arm mumbled.

Rema shook her head. Her stomach boiled and she ga
gged, about to vomit.

“Sorry,”
the second guard muttered, taking hold of her other arm. The guards pulled her inside. The door slammed shut, the bang echoing through the unknown. A fire appeared in front of her face, forcing her to squint.

“Pretty little thing. What she done?”
the raspy voice asked. Her eyes adjusted to see a small, hunched man studying her with the light of a torch.

“Treason,” a guard replied.

“You and everyone else,” the hunched man said. “This way.” They went down a narrow corridor. “Be careful now. Watch your step.” The hunched man grunted and descended.

Rema
stood at the top of a steep staircase. The smoke from the torch made her eyes sting, and the rough stone floor dug into her bare feet.

“Down you go,”
a guard said, gripping her elbow.

It smelled musty,
damp, and like body odor. The guards pulled her forward, following the light ahead of them. The only sounds were her escorts’ boots slapping against the floor and a faint dripping noise in the distance. Rema’s feet were cold and raw. The stone walls faded away and blackness surrounded them. When they caught up to the man with the torch, Rema realized that they were walking past cells with a slumped figure inside each one. She couldn’t tell if any of the people were alive or not.

Rema
froze, bile rising in the back of her throat. She was going to die in here.

“Come on,”
a guard whispered, his soft voice echoing.

“No,” she cried. “I can’t!”

A rough, calloused hand grabbed her ankle, and she screamed, the sound bouncing off the walls like the cry of thousands instead of only one.

A
guard swiveled and whacked a man reaching out of his cell. The prisoner released Rema’s ankle and his arm dashed away like a snake.

“Walk in the center,” the guard ordered, “so none of the prisoners can
touch you.” Rema grabbed one of the guard’s arms for safety and support.

The hunched man appeared in front of them, laughing. “I reckon many ain’t seen a young
woman in an awful long time. Ah, well, we’ll put you in a different section. You should be safer there.”

The guards stared at each other, cheeks twitching and eyes blinking, like they were having a conversation without words.

“Don’t worry,” one said, whispering in her ear. “We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I can’t do this.”
Shaking her head, Rema refused to go another inch into the never-ending black maze. It seemed like she was being swallowed by a colossal beast whose pit of a stomach she’d be stuck in forever. And the smell—fecal matter mixed with urine and vomit—hung heavy in the stale air.

The guards each took hold of her arms and carried her forward.

“Be strong,” one whispered. “You can do this. Just don’t show any fear.”

Rema
knew she couldn’t give up so easily. Even if she couldn’t save herself, there had to be a way to save her aunt and uncle. Regaining some of her strength, she forced her legs to move forward. She walked on her own, holding her head high. Prince Lennek was the real scum, not her.

Rounding a corner, Rema’s right foot stepped in a thick, slimy substance. She slipped and
both guards grabbed hold of her, keeping her upright.

“I’m
fine,” she declared, not wanting to think about the warm goo coating the bottom of her foot.

“Here
.” One guard took her foot and wiped it off on his pants. “Don’t want you to slip again.”

“Thank you
.” He didn’t have to do that for her. “I appreciate your kindness.”

Darkness surrounded them as t
he light the hunched man held moved further away. They hurried to catch up. 

After several twists and turns, the raspy voice said,
“Here,” and pointed to a cell. He slid the torch into a sconce on the wall. Pulling a ring of keys from his belt, he flipped through them, humming a cheerful tune. Rema wanted to kick his leg—there was nothing to be happy about.

“Ah, here it is.” He took the key
, inserted it into the lock, and pushed the door open. A loud screech echoed through the corridor, the door grating along the floor.

The hunched man
grabbed the torch from the wall and entered the cell. As he waved the light around, Rema got a brief look at the small empty room: five-feet-by-five-feet, three walls of solid block stones, the last wall iron bars extending from the ground into the ceiling.

“What y
a waiting for? Get in here.”

The guards nudged her forward
into the cell. The hunched man spun around and slammed the door shut, the lock clicking into place. Both guards towered above the small man, their faces grim.

“Enjoy y
our stay,” the raspy voice said.

“Wait!” Rema
yelled. “You’re not leaving me alone, are you? I mean, my guards are staying, right?” Panic swelled in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Guards?” the hunched man laughed. “You’re in a dungeon. These here bars and walls are y
our guards!” He swept the torch from side to side. A rat scurried across the cell and Rema jumped, curling her toes.

“What am I supposed to do when I have to go to the
privy?”

The man laughed. “
When ya gotta go, pick a corner and use it. Just make sure that corner don’t slope toward the rest of your cell.” He moved away, taking the torch and her guards with him.

Her entire body shook uncontrollably.
She couldn’t bloody see.
Calm down,
she told herself.
Your eyes will adjust.

Except
that they didn’t.

Rema couldn’t even see her own hand in front of her face. Anyone could sneak up to her
, and she would never know—until it was too late. She slid her feet back until she hit the wall, and then moved sideways until she was in a corner. Rema collapsed to the ground, pulling her knees to her chin, trying to make herself as small as possible. The odor of fecal matter permeated the air. Rema dug her nose into her dress, attempting to block the rancid smell.

Her breathing was loud
, anyone would be able to hear and find her. She needed to calm her body down and control her breathing, slowing it to make it as soft and as quiet as possible.

I
t only got louder.

She put her dress around her feet in case the rat came back. Not that the dress would do much good against a
n animal with sharp teeth, but she felt safer without her toes exposed.

The
ground was damp. Moisture seeped into her dress, and her teeth started to chatter.

Rema had no idea how long she had been sitting in the dungeon. Time held no meaning in the darkness.

A faint light appeared and then got stronger until Rema vaguely saw the corridor in front of her cell.

A prison guard lit a torch on the wall
outside of her iron bars. He took a few more steps, and then lit another one. He glanced in her direction and mumbled, “Hope this helps.” He continued down the hallway lighting two more, and then disappearing.

The torches gave off enough light for Rema to see the inside of her cell.