Морган Райс - A Jewel for Royals

He tried to think about the journey that they’d taken to get there, but it was impossible to say for certain. Not the palace, he guessed now. Even Rupert wouldn’t be arrogant enough to stow Sebastian there. His brother, his family, had enough money that he could have bought other property around the city. Some extra house kept for liaisons or murky business.

“Probably both, knowing Rupert,” Sebastian said.

“Shut up, you,” a voice said. A figure came out of the dark: a nondescript man who served as one of his jailers. The man only came down a couple of times a day, bringing brackish water and stale bread. Now, he rattled a wooden club against the bars of Sebastian’s cell, making him start at the sudden noise after so long in the silence.

“You know who I am,” Sebastian said. “I’m Rupert’s brother, the Dowager’s younger son.” He gripped the bars. “She will kill anyone involved in harming her sons. You know that, you aren’t an idiot. Your only chance to survive right now is to be the one who lets me go.”

Sebastian didn’t like making the threat. It was the kind of thing his brother might have done, but it was also no more than the truth. His mother would tear Ashton apart looking for him if she thought that he’d been taken, and when she found him, anyone who had harmed him would die for it. When it came to her family, his mother was every inch the cruel, implacable monarch people believed.

“That only matters if she finds out,” the guard said, swatting at Sebastian’s hands almost casually with the club. Sebastian grimaced in pain, but managed to grab hold of the club, pulling the other man closer, his hands going to his belt.

It wasn’t a good strategy. After all, the other man was armed, and Sebastian was trapped in a confined cell, without the ability to get around him, or avoid him. The guard struck him with his free hand, then jabbed him in the gut with his club. Sebastian felt the air rushing out of him. He went down to his knees.

“Arrogant nobles,” the man snapped, spitting on the floor beside Sebastian. “Think that everything will work out for them, whatever they try. Well, it won’t. Your mother won’t come for you, you’re not getting out of here, and I’ll be standing right there when your brother decides to start cutting bits off you.”

He hit Sebastian again with the club, then backed away into the dark. Sebastian heard the sound of a bolt.

He didn’t mind the pain then, even though it ran across his ribs like fire. He didn’t care about himself, or what Rupert might do, or what might be happening now to let all this take place. Even like this, Sebastian found his thoughts turning to Sophia, and Ishjemme, and his child.

How far along would her pregnancy be by now? Far enough that it would be visible; far enough that it wouldn’t be so long until their child was born. Sebastian couldn’t stand the thought that he might miss that moment, might miss hearing their child’s first cries in the cold air of the dukedom. He couldn’t stand the thought that he wasn’t with Sophia now, standing by her side and protecting her from whatever harm the world tried to throw at her. He had no doubt that, once they learned that she lived, whoever had tried to kill her would make the attempt again. Sebastian needed to be there to stop it, whatever it took.

“Which is why,” he said, taking out a key that he’d snatched from the guard’s belt, “I need to escape.”

Sebastian moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to make any more noise than he had to. He fit the key into the lock and managed to turn it, the grating sound of metal on metal seeming far too loud. The creak of the cell door was louder, sounding like it should summon guards at any moment.

Even so, Sebastian kept going. He edged from the cell, into the corridor beyond it. It was a short, cramped, dark corridor which, instead of a door at the end, had barrels, stacked up as if to hide the entrance to it. There were other cells too, set in a line, although for the moment at least, they were empty. Sebastian was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure that he could escape himself without trying to take others with him.

Sebastian went to move the boxes and found that some of them were already set on a small wheeled cart, easy to push out of the way. It wasn’t quite a secret door, but it served almost the same purpose. Sebastian pushed it aside, and now he could see that the corridor that held his cell was set back from a wide, vaulted cellar, lit with candles. Even the light from those was enough to sting his eyes after the dark.

He moved through the space carefully, looking at where butts of wine and casks of ale sat alongside beef, venison, and other supplies. A length of hard salt beef sat waiting to be consumed, and Sebastian tore off a hunk, chewing at it with the lack of grace of a starving man. He looked around, hoping to find, not a sword, because who would keep one of those in a cellar, but at least a carving knife or a butcher’s hook. Something he could use in his escape.

There was nothing, and no time to hunt further. Sebastian didn’t know how often people came through this space, and he needed to be gone before any of the guards got back. He hurried over to where a flight of stone steps led to a door, suggesting a way out. Sebastian hurried up those steps, ignoring the pain that came with each movement, and made it to the top.

He half expected the door to be bolted, but a door leading down to a cellar couldn’t be, or how would people fetch things up for the house above? Sebastian was convinced now that it was a grand townhouse, and not the palace, simply because, as impressive as this space was, it didn’t hold enough food to feed a whole palace of courtiers and servants, soldiers and nobles.

Sebastian swung the door open and found himself standing face to face with the guard who had beaten him, sitting on a chair, waiting for him. Two more men stood beside him.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice my key was gone?” he asked. He laughed. “You think I would carry my key so close to you unless there were a reason?”

The truth seeped into Sebastian then, and the shock as it hit him made him stand there dumbly. They’d let him get this far. It was all some trick, some game .

“Do you think we don’t watch the ones his highness tells us to?” the man said. “You think he hasn’t had all kinds down there, trying to get out all ways? Oh, you should hear some of the women cry when they think they’ve escaped, neat as you like, only to be dragged back.”

Sebastian threw himself forward at the man. It didn’t matter in that moment that there were three of them, or that he was weak from the lack of food. What mattered was getting out of there, getting to Sophia, even if it hurt. He’d realized back at the wedding that he couldn’t spend his life without her. Now was the moment when he proved it.

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