Iย thought I knew the Hold from every angle.
๎ขis is theย rst time Iโve seen it as a prisoner.
Iโm locked in a cell on the lowest level, where smugglers and illegal traders are usually kept. Itโs either ironic or poetic justice; I canโt decide which. Maybe simple necessity, a๎er the front half of the prison was damaged in the attacks.ย ๎ขe halls are torchlit, but the cells are shadowed and dim, and as usual, the smell leaves something to be desired.ย ๎ขe stoneย oor is strewn with a thin layer of loose straw, but the walls are stained with every bodilyย uid you can imagine.
I thought for sure weโd be taken to the palace, where Iโd have to face my brotherโs accusations. Instead, we were brought here, where one of my guards stammered through reading me my charges. He kept glancing up, looking at me, then at Commander Riley, as if he expected the o๏ฌcer to let go of my chains and explain this was all a big prank.
Smuggling. Sedition. Treason. Iโve heard the words before, on a nearly daily basis, but theyโve never carried so much weight.
At my side, Tessa was trembling in her shackles, her breathing quick and shallow.
โ๎ขey wonโt hurt you,โ I said to her so๎ly. โ๎ขeyโre good men. Just do what they say.โ
โNo talking,โ the guard snapped, but then he blanched a bit and added, โYour Highness.โ
Tessa is in a cell at the opposite end of the hall now, on the opposite side.
๎ขe guards havenโt been rough with either of us, but I donโt want to give them cause, so I havenโt tried to yell to her. I can practically feel her worries from here.
Or maybe what Iโm feeling is my own worries.
I donโt know what Harristan will do.
I know what heโd expectย meย to do, and thatโs not very comforting.
I never realized it, but the straw on the cellย oors is truly torture. It does nothing to spare me from the cold hardness of the stone, and itches through my clothes when I move. I feel every bruise acutely. My shoulder hasnโt stopped aching, and the wound Tessa stitched over my eye is throbbing, matched only by the pulsing pain in my swollen ankle. My stomach has been making a case for breakfast for a while now. Without sunlight, I have no way to mark the passing of time, so minutes feel like hours. I know the guards change shi๎ย at midday, but when it happens, it comes as a surprise anyway, somehow feeling both earlier and later than I expected.
I donโt expect to sleep, but my body has other ideas. I dozeย tfully, waking with a jolt every time I hear a boot scrape on stone, but no one comes to my bars. No food, no water, nothing.
By the time the guards change shi๎ย for the evening, Iโm ready to beg.
I press my forehead against theย oor and bite at my lip, clenching my eyes closed. I survived what happened in the village; I can surely survive a day without food and water.
But I was wrong about the straw.ย ๎ขis thirst is worse. My head pounds now, and the guardโs hesitant voice is loud in my memories.
Smuggling. Sedition. Treason.
I stood in my quarters and swore to Harristan that I wasnโt involved. And Iโm not. Not the way he thinks.
What did he say to me about my feigned friendship with Allisander?ย All that matters is what it looks like.
My throat tightens. Iโm used to people hating me, but this is altogether di๏ฌerent.
Iโm not used to my brother hating me.
Iโve stopped hoping he would send for me, and Iโve begun dreading it.ย ๎ขe thought of his disappointment weighs on me more heavily than every bruise the rebels gave me. Everything Iโve done to protect him, and I undid it all with pure selย shness. I didnโt need to leave the palace. I didnโt need to spend hours in the Wilds every morning. What did I do? Help a few dozen people prolong the inevitable?
And now Tessa is in the Hold.ย ๎ขe one thing I always hoped to avoid.
I wonder who Harristan will choose to dole out punishment. Who will replace me as Kingโs Justice? My brotherโs circle of trust is not broad.
A name pierces my thoughts like a needle.ย Allisander.
Harristan doesnโt trust him any more than I do, but I can see the consul using his signiย cant status to force my brotherโs hand. It would make Allisander the second-most powerful man in Kandala. He could take whatever action he wanted against the smugglersโand heโs been desperate to do so for months now. My heart thrums along at a rapid clip.
Allisander would make an example of me. I have no doubt.
Maybe he already is. Maybe thatโs why thereโs been no food, no water. I never starved my prisoners, and he made his thoughts very clear about that.
๎ขe thought of Allisander in my place makes my chest tight, and itโs painful to swallow. I spent my life trying to protect my brother, but Allisander would spend his life trying to undermine Harristan at every turn. Against my will, my eyes burn.
Footsteps echo in the hallway, and I try to calm my hitching breath.ย ๎ขe guards are changing again. It must be midnight. Shame curls in my belly, and I want to roll into the darkened shadows. With each new guard, itโs a new moment of gawking, the fearsome prince reduced to powerless captive.
I press myย ngers into my eyes. Poetic justice, for sure. โCorrick.โ
I jerk my hands down. Harristan stands on the other side of the bars,
anked by his guards. His expression is cool and still. Unreadable.
Iโm not facing my brother. Iโm facing the king.
I wait for him to say something else. He doesnโt.
๎ขatโs not reassuring. A tremor rolls through me, a clenching in my chest. I struggle to force myself upright. Iโve been lying on the cold ground for hours, and none of my joints want to work. By the time Iโm on my knees, Iโm lightheaded and breathing heavily. Harristan watches this impassively.
I donโt know if I want to cry or if I want to beg for my life. So many times I wished for my brother to come to the Hold, to witness what I was forced to do.
Now heโs here, and I wish he were anywhere else.
โYour Majesty,โ I say, and my voice breaks. My breathing wonโt steady. I canโt look at him.
He glances at the guard by the corner. โOpen the gate.โ
๎ขe man scurries. When Harristan enters the cell, two of his guards come with him, as if Iโm a threat. One of them is Rocco.
Maybe my brother is going to have them execute me right here. My heart races in my chest, but I keep my eyes on the straw, on the boots of the guards.
When Harristanโsย ngers touch my chin, itโs so unexpected that I jump, but heโs simply li๎ing my gaze.
โYouโre injured,โ he says, and the way he says it is interesting, like he had no idea until this very moment. Which is possible.
He casts a glance around the empty cell. โYou outย t your prison rather sparsely. Have you no chairs?โ
I frown. โWhat?โ
He looks at Rocco. โSend for food.โ โYes, Your Majesty.โ
To my surprise, Harristan drops to a crouch to look at me eye to eye. Heโs so out of place here, resplendent in green brocade and shining silver buttons, while Iโm covered in dust that clings to dried blood and sweat. My face is surely a mask of bruises and cuts, while his is unmarred perfection.
I still canโt read his expression, and for a long moment, we stare at each other.
โYou swore to me,โ heย nally says.
I look away. โI did so truthfully.โ But my words sound hollow. I know where I was found. I know how it looks.
โIโve had Allisander in my face since before dawn, insisting youโre behind the attacks on his supply runs.ย ๎ขat youโve been funding the rebels.โ
I jerk my head around. โNo! Harristan, Iโโ He puts up a hand, and I stop short.
โYou werenโt in your quarters,โ he says. โYou were nowhere to be found.
So I sent soldiers into the Wilds.โ Where they found me.
I swallow, and my throat feels like itโs lined in parchment. Maybe it would have been better if Lochlan had killed me.
โI wasnโt working with the rebels,โ I say, and my voice is rough and shaking. โPlease, Harristan.โ I sound like every single prisoner whoโs begged at my feet. โI have nothing to do with the attacks on Sallisterโs supply runs.โ
He says nothing, just regards me silently.
Rocco reappears. โYour Majesty.โ Heโs holding out a leather satchel and a full water skin. Iโm so thirsty I can practically smell it. โ๎ขis is from the Hold stores. Shall I send for more from the palace?โ
โNot yet.โ
Harristan takes the water skin and o๏ฌers it to me.
I drink too fast, sputtering on the water like Iโve never tasted a drop, but Iโm too thirsty to care. When Iย nally lower it from my lips, I hold it out to my brother. I have no idea when Iโll get more, so it takes literally everything I have to say, โWill you please send some to Tessa?โ
He studies me for a moment, then nods, handing the skin to Rocco, who leaves the cell.
Harristan looks over his shoulder at the other guard. โRetreat to the hallway. Have the prison guards keep their distance.โ
๎ขey do. I hold my breath almost involuntarily.
Once theyโre gone, Harristan sits down in the straw in front of me, then gestures for me to do the same. I stare at my brother, whoโs never set foot in the Hold, whoโs now sitting on a cellย oor. I donโt thinkย Iย have ever sat on a cellย oor.
Well, until today.
He pulls a small length of bread from the satchel, followed by some overripe pears and a slab of cheese that looks a bit spotty.
He breaks the bread in half and looks at it dubiously, but then extends a piece to me. โHere. Eat, Cory.โ
I tear a piece free with my teeth. โYou could have had me brought to the palace.โ
โI was too mad at you for that.โ โAre you still?โ
โMaybe.โ He splits the cheese, too. โDo you remember that time those boys from Mosswell dared us to race all the way to the river?โ
โI do.โ It was years ago. I was twelve or thirteen, so Harristan must have been sixteen or seventeen.ย ๎ขere was a large stable on the edge of the Wilds that kept ponies for hire, and the boys would slip a few out of the paddock and take them galloping through the woods at dawn. Weโd only ever ridden the sleek and polished horses from the royal stables, well-trained and well- bred animals who never took a step wrong.ย ๎ขe ponies were fat and furry
and ornery, but Harristan has a competitive streak, and we were riding double with nothing more than a halter and a rope, galloping out of the paddock before the other boys had even climbed over the fence.
I remember clinging to my brotherโs back, getting whipped by branches and leaves, laughing every time that pony tried to put its head down to buck, because Harristan would jerk its head up and swear in a very unprincely fashion.
I also remember Harristan aiming for a narrow ditch that any horse in the royal stable would have leapt over without hesitation, because that ridiculous pony skidded to a halt, and Harristan and I did not. We went
ying headย rst into the mud. We had to tell our parents that we were climbing trees in the orchard and we fell.
โItโs the last time Iโve seen you so bruised,โ Harristan says now. โLucky me.โ
โStupid pony,โ Harristan says.
โStupid princes, more likely,โ I say. I put the cheese in my mouth, and itโs awful, but I donโt care.
โDid the guards do this to you?โ he says quietly.
I tear another piece of bread. โNo.ย ๎ขose rebels you thought I wasย helping.โ
He inhales sharply and straightens.
I meet his eyes. โIโm very glad you sent the soldiers,โ I say, and despite everything, I mean it.
He holds my gaze for a long moment, and I can feel every question heโs not voicing. โQuint has been in my face much of the day, too,โ he says, his tone musing.
Iโve been worried about Quint since the instant I was locked in this cell, but Iโve been afraid to so much as breathe his name. โYouโve loved every moment of it, Iโm sure.โ
โHe insists youโve never had one truly treasonous thought cross your mind.โ
Only Quint could think of the perfect way to phrase that to Harristan, because every syllable is absolutely true. โHeโs right.โ
โHe says that every secret you keep is an e๏ฌort to protect me.โ
I should double Quintโs salaryโif I ever get out of prison. My throat feels tight again, and to my absolute horror, I feel a tear make its way through the
dirt on my cheek. โHeโs right about that, too.โ
Harristan waits, but I say nothing. I swipe the tear away, and no more dare to follow.
My brother sighs, then reaches out to ru๏ฌe my hair a๏ฌectionately, like Iโm a boy.
โOw,โ I say.
He stops with his hand on my head and levels me with his eyes. โTell me the truth.โ
I hesitate. โI think Arella and Roydan are funding the rebels. It would explain their secret meetingsโโ
โCorrick,โ he snaps. โI meant the truth about you.โ
โI know what you meant.โ But the truth wonโt help him, and it certainly wonโt help me.
โDonโt be a fool. I canโt bring you back to the palace if I donโt know what youโre doing.โ
โI was apprehended in a rebel camp,โ I say. I want to shake him. And he wonders why I keep such secrets. โHarristan, you canโt bring me back to the palaceย at all. How would you appease Allisander? How?โ
A muscle in his jaw twitches as he sits there regarding me, but he must see the truth in that, because his shoulders droop and he runs a hand across his jaw. โVery well. But I can make sure youโre fed.โ He looks at the cut over my eye. โAnd treated.โ He casts another glance around. โAnd perhaps provided with aย chair, at the very least.โ
โ๎ขe prisoners use furniture as weapons.โ
He looks startled, and I shrug.
When he stands, I do as well, and I limp behind him to the doorway. He hesitates, but I slam the gate closed between us.
He looks at the lock and then back at me. โI will leave Rocco to ensure you are le๎ย unharmed.โ
โAh! My best friend.โ
He gives me a look. โMother and Father tried to protect me, too,โ he says. โI remember. So does the pony.โ
โYou might think youโre the clever and brave one, little brother, but donโt forget.โ He smiles. โI found a way around them both.โ
