It was a very long night. Maren thought she might have dozed off a time or two, but otherwise lay awake listening to Kieran snore and hoping Donovan would come for her soon.

The one positive aspect of her situation was that she knew Kieran would not be able to harm her while he slept. That was something.

Maren had no sense of the passage of time, but eventually Kieran awoke. She stared at the ceiling, not wanting to provoke him.

“Good morning, pet.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

She spoke mechanically and tried as hard as she could to focus on courtly manners and nothing else.

“I slept very well, did you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent. I am going to make ready for the day, and you will stay here and someone will come get you and take you for a walk. Can I trust you to behave while I’m gone?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Good girl,” he said and patted her head again. It seemed he wanted to reinforce to her that she was a dog or certainly no better than one.

He left and after a time a Tracker came and unchained her from the bed. He didn’t speak to her but led her to a small washroom. The Tracker, fortunately, let her go in by herself, so she was spared some modicum of humiliation. She washed her face and hands and drank a bit of water.

She felt nauseous enough that she might have thrown up, but there was nothing in her stomach after more than a day without eating.

Maren left the washroom, and the Tracker picked up the chain connected to her collar again. She resisted the urge to sigh.

He took her to a new room. It was a very strange room. Everything was covered in marble and the room was huge. Even bigger than the bedroom in the Duchess’ Suite at Worthingham. But there was no furniture. Except for a desk and chair, there was nothing in the room.

The Tracker silently led her to the desk, where of course there was a connection to attach the chain. Then he left.

Maren briefly considered sitting in the chair but knew that the comfort of the chair would not be worth whatever Kieran would do to her if he found her in it.

So, she sat on the floor and tried not to think. She knew it was only a matter of time before Kieran came.

Stay alive. All she had to do was stay alive.

Kieran did come in after a time, looking refreshed and well-fed.

“I have work to do, you’re to kneel and wait for me,” he said.

Maren knelt in the spot he indicated and waited. She knew he would do something horrifying to her before long, but she was relieved he hadn’t done anything too terrible yet. She tried to wait and not contemplate what he might do.

Maren still had no way of keeping track of time, but she thought it might have been an hour before Kieran got up from his desk and went to a door. He opened it, said something to whoever was on the other side, and came back.

“I’ve got something special coming for you,” he said. He sounded truly excited, which was terrifying.

Maren reminded herself she had to stay alive.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Lie on your back just here,” he told her, indicating a spot on the floor, and she did.

He knelt beside her and made sure the area just below her left collar bone was clear of her hair and nightdress.

Kieran patted her collar bone and then stood up. Then the door opened, and she smelled hot metal, and she remembered that Kieran had said something about branding her.

Oh gods, he was going to brand her. She started to hyperventilate.

“You’re going to be a good girl and hold still for me, won’t you? I’d hate for this not to come out properly.”

Maren closed her eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.” Her voice wavered, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Maren had seen enough horses branded to know that it was going to be excruciating when it happened.

“You’ve been such a good girl, would you like something to bite down on?”

He probably didn’t want her screaming that loudly in his face and hurting his ears.

“Yes, please, Your Majesty.”

She thought perhaps he was dragging it out on purpose. He liked her fear.

She heard him doing something that sounded like taking off his belt, and the thing he shoved between her teeth felt like a belt.

“Now, be a good girl, and keep your eyes closed.”

He wanted her to have to wait for the brand, not knowing when it would come.

She had to resist all her instincts to curl into a protective ball and shield herself from the pain. But she knew her choices were to either allow him to brand her or get beaten until she agreed to allow him to brand her.

She knew that Kieran would only tolerate so much resistance from her. She wanted to save it for something she reallycouldn’t bear. Maren had no doubt that would come. She tried to remind herself that it was just pain. Pain wouldn’t kill her any more than humiliation would.

She wondered if waiting for the brand would be worse than the actual brand until he pushed the burning metal into her skin. Then she knew the brand was far worse. It had been difficult to imagine being in more pain than just the collar alone cause, but when it came she understood, this was a different pain.

She wondered if she might pass out. It felt like Kieran was holding the brand for a very long time—too long a time.

She bit into the leather belt and tried not to move or scream. Her arms and legs seemed to twitch in outrage, but she thought she held more or less still.

Maren had no idea how long Kieran held the brand to her, but when it was over, there was a burnt smell that made her want to vomit. She tried very hard not to. She knew that would enrage Kieran.

All she had to do was stay alive.

Kieran took the belt out of her mouth.

She knew what she had to say.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Her voice sounded like something between a squeak and a whine. She could have wished she sounded bolder, but she thought he would at least stop hurting her.

She was wrong.

“Maren, you break my heart. You were being so good. But look, you’ve absolutely ruined my belt with your teeth marks,” Kieran said.

Maren should not have been surprised he had set her up for that, but she was. Her thoughts felt very sluggish.

“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty,” she said.

She was starting to not even care what she said. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I can probably forgive you, but I’ll need to punish you,” he said.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Vaguely she wondered if whatever he had in mind would be humiliating or painful or both. Most likely both, she thought.

She was right.

He jerked on the chain to force her to stand up, and then bent her over his desk. He lifted her nightdress. She thought he was going to rape her. She was wrong about that, though, which she supposed was a good thing. Instead, he took the belt and began beating her with it. At first, it was a furious barrage of blows on her back and buttocks. And then he wanted her to count them and thank him. So she did. And then he switched the end of the belt he was holding so that he beat her with the buckle. And she had to thank him for that too.

Being hit with the leather strap over and over again had been plenty painful, but the buckle was far worse. She knew it was cutting into her skin as well as bruising her.

Eventually, he either got tired or bored and decided he was done with that particular exercise. He replaced her clothing and told her to kneel by his desk.

She thanked him and did what he asked. Because she wanted to live to see Donovan. Even if she died in their attempt to escape, she would still get to see him.

TELEGRAM

TO: ALL FORTS, MINISTRIES, OFFICIAL OFFICES

FROM: PALACE VIA TRACKER HQ

WITCH WHO KILLED KING TYNAN, PRINCE DONOVAN IN CUSTODY. IDENTIFIED AS MAREN CASTERIS. KING KEIRAN REMAINS IN POWER. ALL INSTALLATIONS ORDERED TO ACKNOWLEDGE NEW KING WITHIN 24 HOURS.

Donovan shredded the copy of the telegram Kieran sent to every corner of the kingdom. The one saving grace was that Maren wasn’t there to see that Kieran had outed her.

“I want to go right now!” Donovan shouted to no one in particular.

It was early afternoon. He had slept, and he had eaten, and now he needed to get his wife. He was in the commandant’s office with the Duke, Alec, and his mother. Maren’s parents were resting or worrying. He didn’t know which, but he didn’t mind their absence. He could not look them in the eyes after letting their daughter go.

“We need to wait until dark, Your Majesty,” the Duke said. He spoke softly but firmly.

“That’s six or seven hours, that’s too long!” Donovan protested.

“Donovan,” his mother said sharply. “Listen to your military advisor.”

He growled but looked at the Duke. “Why?”

“We’ll need to get the team in and out of the city quickly, there’s too much traffic during the day. The men who are going need time to get organized. Most of them haven’t worked closely together. They must have a clear chain of command or this will never work. And, if you wait, there will be fewer Trackers and Kieran may not even be there. We have to wait,” he explained.

Donovan closed his eyes and nodded curtly. He hoped Maren could forgive him for not coming sooner.

“I’ll see to it,” the Duke said and left.

Donovan buried his face in his hands and tried very hard not to weep. Alec clapped him on the back.

“You know, after she healed me, she passed out right away, but she was only unconscious for five minutes or so. And then, she had my father help her to her feet and stood guard with him at the doors. I honestly don’t know how she could even stand, I could see how exhausted she was. But she did. And I saw her face—it was just sheer determination. Even dead tired and weak as she was, she was going to fight,” Alec said.

Donovan breathed a silent laugh. “That sounds very much like her. She’s terrible stubborn.”

Alec smiled. “That she is. So she can make it six or seven more hours. Like my father said, she’s tough as nails. And don’t forget how much Kieran underestimates her,” Alec added.

“What do you mean?” his mother asked Alec.

Alex looked slightly uncomfortable. Donovan wasn’t sure he’d ever had a conversation with his mother that wasn’t about his official duties.

“Ah…well, all the things he tried to get her to expose herself. None of it worked. Not even beating her half to death. She’s far stronger than he thinks she is, Your Majesty,” he explained.

Donovan agreed, but did not see how that would help Maren now.

“The one thing we know he doesn’t want to do is kill her. That’s not his style and, frankly, if he wanted to do it, he would’ve just done it ages ago. So, whatever he might do to her is not going to kill her and given how he underestimates her, it’s going to be within the limits of what she can bear.”

Donovan had to admit Alec had a point.

“That doesn’t make me feel better about leaving her there,” he said.

“Of course not, but I have no doubt she is surviving, and that’s the most important thing,” Alec said.

Donovan thought he could accept that. Maren was a survivor. She had always been.

“Did she ever tell you about running away after she turned thirteen?” he asked Alec, who shook his head.

Donovan smiled and told how she ran away, even though she had no idea what she was doing, and managed to survive. There was a good bit of luck that she happened to run into Karlyn, of course, but that was also Maren’s doing that she tried to use her powers to stop the wolf in the first place.

He hoped she wouldn’t mind him telling her story. It gave him a great deal of comfort to talk about how remarkable she was.

“Ah, she mentioned an encounter with a wolf at Worthingham, I wondered. Amazing she survived,” Alec said.

“In addition, I doubt very much that many of her kind could survive nearly a year at Court,” his mother said. “That she did says a great deal about her.”

Donovan thought that was likely the closest his mother was able to come to complementing Maren now that she knew she was a Wielder. But to her credit, she never once suggested that he not go save her. It was something.

“She is remarkable,” he said, hoping he would get to see her again.

Maren knelt so long she thought her knees were bruised. She began to doze off from time to time, and Kieran would slap her or yank on the chain to wake her up. Then she would thank him.

At one point, he asked if she wanted water. She knew it would work out the same as the belt, but she also knew she would be punished for saying no. So, she said yes, and he had someone bring a bucket of water, and then he threw it on her. And she thanked him.

She was wet and shivering, and knew her sodden nightdress left her completely exposed. She thought Kieran might leer at her, but he got angry about the water on his floor. So, he told her to clean it up but since she had nothing with which to clean it up he told her to take off her nightdress and use that. And much to her shame, she thanked him for the suggestion and took it off.

Of course, since it was soaking wet, it did little more than push water around on the floor. So, Kieran was mad she didn’t try hard enough to clean the floor. He told her to put back on her nightdress and lay on the floor in the cold water and think about what she’d done. So, she thanked him for his forgiveness and lay in the water.

That actually soothed her stinging backside, so it wasn’t too bad as far as things Kieran did to her, even if it was cold. Lying down also got her further away from Kieran, which was welcome. He only came over every once in a while to scold her for the floor still being wet.

Maren had some peace to think and that helped. She wondered how long she’d been with Kieran. She wondered when Donovan would come. She wondered what ridiculous thing Kieran would do next. She wondered if there would be a cell later. She wondered what would happen if she caught pneumonia.

She did not wonder about the baby. That was too painful either way.

She felt very nauseous. She hadn’t eaten in a very long time. But what was one more unpleasant sensation among dozens? She found she didn’t really feel separate problems after a while, it just blended into a cacophony of misery.

At some point, Kieran rose from the desk and said, “I will be leaving my office, and you will be going to a cell.”

Maren actually welcomed the notion of a break from Kieran. She wasn’t sure she could stand another night in his bed.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I’m concerned you might forget some of the lessons we learned today if I don’t see you again until morning.”

He spoke to her in an extremely patronizing tone, as though she was a very naughty child.

“I promise to remember, Your Majesty.”

“Hmmmm, that didn’t sound very convincing. I think we need one more lesson.”

Maren tried not to sigh. The charade was becoming increasingly ridiculous.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Come and kneel right in front of me,” he said.

She suspected she was going to have some objections to learning this lesson.

She did as he asked, though. Her body was so stiff she could hardly get off the floor, but she managed. Kneeling aggravated her sore knees again, though.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her face into his groin.

She was definitely going to have an issue.

“Do you know what I want?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t think you want me to, Your Majesty.”

He pulled her hair harder.

“And why’s that?” he snarled.

She looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I bite.”

He struck her hard enough that she collapsed sideways.

That was fine. She knew she would be punished for that. She also knew that she could not let him force that particular indignity on her without resisting.

He was furious. She thought perhaps he thought he’d broken her and did not expect her to resist. But the reason he wanted her on her knees and not bent over the desk was to force her to actively participate in her humiliation and subjugation. She would not.

There was a substantial beating that followed. He kicked her ribs again in just the same spot he had done before. He smashed her head into the marble floor. Then he choked her off and on for a bit. And then he dragged her up to her knees by her hair.

“Are you ready to do what I want?”

Maren realized he probably wouldn’t dare put his precious anatomy at risk of being bitten off—and she would absolutely try if he forced the matter. So, she felt this was a worthwhile place to plant her flag of resistance.

She looked him dead in the eyes and said, “No.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and snarled, “Hold out your arm.”

She glared at him but stuck out her left arm.

Whatever he did, he did it too fast for Maren to see, but she felt the agonizing pain of the bones in her forearm snapping.

She screamed and collapsed to the floor.

“I'll let you sit with that overnight and see if you’re ready to comply in the morning,” he said.

She did not respond. Instead, she vomited from the pain, and then everything went black.

They assembled in the courtyard just after sunset. In the end, two dozen men were willing to swear oaths to Maren or, as they called her, The Wielder Queen.

Donovan told them actual oaths weren’t necessary, which seemed to disappoint them, but he really didn’t want to take the time for twenty-four oaths. And he also thought they should swear them to Maren, not to him. If they wanted, they could do that after she was safe.

Those were the only men Donovan wanted to bring to rescue Maren. He did not trust that any of the others would not shoot Maren instead of saving her. Loyalty to the monarchy did not go very far when it came to “witches.”

Alec tried to come with them, which Donovan found very touching, but he had to tell him no. Alec had a difficult time with that.

“I need to go. She saved my life! I’ll stay in the speeder, but she may need me!” he protested.

“Alec, half the men coming have had some measure of medic training. Three are fully qualified field medics.”

“But —“

“Alec,” Donovan said, his voice breaking. “If she comes out without me, she’ll need you.”

Alec grimaced at the thought but nodded.

“We’ll see you at Blackstone,” Donovan said, hoping he was right.

If he saved Maren, they would meet the Duke, and Alec, and Maren’s parents at the fort in Blackstone. There were apparently enough men that the Duke could trust for a sizable convoy for them. They were loyal to the Duke himself, but apparently not willing to die for a Wielder. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Donovan could live with that. Any help was welcome.

It was possible he might kill Kieran, and they would not need to flee the Capitol, but he wanted to prepare for the worst.

He asked his mother if she wanted to come to Blackstone, but she declined.

“Whichever of you is King when this is over will need me at the palace,” she said.

Donovan frowned. “You don’t have to help him.”

“I’m hoping I can help the kingdom,” she said.

He nodded. He could understand that.

“If he wins, we’ll have to run,” he told her.

She nodded. He thought she could understand that.

“If it comes to it, kiss your child for me.”

“I will.”

He hoped there would still be a child to kiss.

The last thing he did before going to the courtyard was visit Maren’s parents.

“I will get her out of there, or we will both die. She will not suffer at Kieran’s hands anymore,” he told them.

They looked a bit shocked but nodded. He wasn’t sure whether what he said was a comfort to them or not, but it was the truth. The only way he’d walk out of that building was with Maren. He would gladly die to get her out, but would not let her die for him. If they failed, he would make sure she died before staying with Kieran. He owed her that much.

In the courtyard, Donovan and the Duke stood before the men loyal to Maren and gave them their orders. Donovan tried very hard to look kingly while the Duke spoke:

“Your job is to get all the Trackers out of the way, so the King can get to the Queen. We know they are not used to people who fight back, but do not let that make you cocky. This is their house. Keep your wits about you.

“Under no circumstances are you to engage Prince Kieran. Leave that to the King.

“Like you, I believe King Donovan and Queen Maren are the best hope for this kingdom’s future. I’m grateful to you all and hope to see you at Blackstone. Happy hunting.”

The Duke turned to Donovan, who nodded.

“I want you all to know that no matter how this evening ends, I believe what we do here tonight matters. Even if change doesn’t come tonight, it will come. This kingdom will never forget the men who saved The Wielder Queen.”

Donovan wasn’t sure any of that was true, but he knew he said the right words because the men cheered. Presently, though, he only cared about saving The Wielder Queen.

Maren wondered if she would ever get used to waking up in a different place than she had last been awake. She thought it was unlikely.

This time it was a dark cell. Only a small amount of light came through the grate in the heavy wooden door. There was nothing in the cell except a bucket in the corner that Maren vowed not to approach. The stone floor and walls were filthy. It was pretty horrible in terms of places to spend the night.

But Kieran wasn’t there, so that was a substantial improvement in her circumstances.

Her arm hurt terribly, though, and it was a sharp enough pain that it did not blend in to the rest of the pain she was experiencing. That was unfortunate.

She couldn’t do anything for her arm except cradle it carefully and try not to move. She really needed a splint and a sling (or even more helpfully another Wielder who could heal her) but had nothing of the sort.

She hoped Donovan would bring some medical supplies with him. Well, what she actually hoped was that Donovan would reach her at all, but worrying about medical supplies felt less daunting.

She decided to try to sleep. She had few other options for activities. She closed her eyes and breathed, hoping sleep would come.

She was still breathing when she heard popping sounds coming from far away. Then there were shouts and more popping sounds.

She tried not to think it was her rescue. It would be too disappointing if it was something else.

Then there were shouts closer to her cell and she could hear people coming.

Her heart was pounding. She really, really needed it to be her rescue.

“Open them all!”

“You, stand guard!”

“Your Majesty?”

“Maren?”

Donovan. He had come.

“Here!” she called.

“Knock on the door!”

She struggled to her feet and went to her cell door. She knocked as hard as she could with her good arm.

“I’m here!” Donovan called. He was on the other side of the door.

Thank the gods.

“Get the rest open!” Donovan called. Apparently, he brought men with him.

“Just a second, love,” he said more quietly.

The door opened and Donovan was there. He rushed in, but she took a step back. She was afraid he’d hurt her arm.

He looked confused at first, but then saw her arm.

“I need a medic!”

“Collar,” she breathed.

He nodded and came closer. She held up her chin to give him access to the latch. He held his hand over it, and she knew he was trying to unlock it with his powers.

Suddenly and without warning, she felt the Light flooding back to her. The sensation of so much Light where there had been none made her reel. Had she always had this much Light? It felt glorious. She felt better than she possibly ever had. She felt powerful.

When she came back to herself, Donovan was clutching her good arm. She looked at him and nodded. She was significantly better with the collar off.

“Let’s get your arm splinted.”

She shook her head. It was wonderful how much more clearly she was thinking.

“Did you find anyone else in the cells?”

Donovan nodded, understanding what she meant. He went outside the cell and Maren followed him.

The hallway was chaotic. There were half a dozen soldiers and a few filthy and dazed women standing throughout.

Donovan was a few steps ahead of her, removing the collar from one of the women. There was another woman with a collar and two more without.

She approached them, cradling her arm.

“Can any of you heal?”

Three of the women shook their heads. The fourth was trying to recover from having the collar removed. Maren saw her neck was ringed with a thick band of torn skin and blood. She supposed hers probably looked the same.

When the other woman had recovered, Maren held out her arm to her.

“Can you heal this?”

The woman looked baffled.

“What’s your name?”

“Joan.”

“Joan, I need you to put your hand on my arm. Find the Light and push it into my arm. Tell it to heal.”

She still looked confused.

“Joan, listen to me. We may have to fight our way out. I need you to do this.”

Joan tentatively reached out a hand and put it on Maren’s arm.

“You can do this. Just tell the Light what you want.”

Maren felt a warmth in her arm that told her Joan was managing to make at least something happen.

“Tell it to heal, Joan.”

The warmth got stronger, and Maren had the very peculiar sensation of her bones snapping back together.

“Well done, Joan,” Maren told her.

She looked shocked, “I didn’t know I could do that.”

Maren just nodded. Fortunately, healing a broken bone was much less taxing than a mortal injury, so if Joan felt tired, she didn’t show it.

“Your Majesties, we need to go,” a soldier called.

Maren barely heard him but recognized the change in the group. It was time to leave. They rushed after a few of the soldiers, with the rest at their rear. Donovan and Maren ushered along the other women.

The soldiers moved quickly, but Maren followed them easily. She knew she was not well, but felt excellent because of the rush of adrenaline and the relief of having the collar off.

The soldiers led them through a maze of hallways. Maren realized they were picking up more soldiers as they went. They must have stationed them throughout the building. They passed the bodies of Trackers as they went. Maren barely noticed.

They went up two flights of stairs and stumbled into a massive room with a very high ceiling. She recognized it as the atrium where she had once attended a terrifying party. Fortunately returning to the atrium meant they were near the entrance to the building.

They were almost free.

Then she felt the tug in her bones that meant someone nearby was doing a lot of magic, and saw the wall of Darkness materialize over the entrance, blocking them in.

Kieran was there.

“Welcome, brother. I do hope you had fun staging your little jailbreak,” Kieran sneered.

He was standing in the middle of the atrium and seemed to be alone. Donovan doubted he truly was.

“Stand aside, take the women,” Donovan ordered the soldiers.

One of them was trying to usher Maren away, but she resisted.

“I’m staying,” she said.

Donovan nodded. “She stays.”

He would need her help if they had any chance of getting past Kieran.

“Let us go, Kieran. You can be king. We just want to leave,” Donovan called.

He doubted that would work, but it was worth a try.

“Oh no, I made you a promise, didn’t I? I told you what would happen if you came for her. I mean to uphold my word,” Kieran called back. Donovan hated how happy his brother sounded.

Then Kieran swished his hand and at least fifty Trackers materialized behind him.

Donovan was not shocked. He had expected something like that. He wasn’t sure how’d they get past them, though.

The soldiers began to shift, ready to defend them from the Trackers, but Donovan held up his hand. He thought this was still more about Kieran than the Trackers.

“You can surrender now or later, but either way this ends with the two of you in cells,” Kieran called.

“No, I don’t think so,” Maren said, letting huge masses of sparks fall from her hands. Donovan reminded himself to be proud of her bravado later.

Donovan drew the Darkness to his own hands.

“Careful, little brother. You never know when the gods might strike you down with a bolt of lightning,” Donovan called.

He saw Maren nod from the corner of his eye and knew she understood.

“Seize them,” Kieran called lazily, and the men began to move forward. They had pistols, but Donovan knew they wouldn’t use them. It would be far too easy to accidentally kill Maren and become subject to Kieran’s wrath.

Donovan continued summoning the Darkness to him, and he knew Maren was doing the same with the Light.

“Now!” he said and flicked the mass of Darkness towards the Trackers. He felt, rather than saw, Maren do the same with her power.

Her Light collided with his Darkness and the room exploded in lightning.

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