start, a sheen of sticky sweat coating his body. He scrubbed a hand down his face and threw his comforter back. âFuck.â
Another nightmare. Theyâd become more frequent over the last few years, and sometimes, he had them while awake. Sam said he dozed off from lack of sleep and didnât realize it, but Caius knew that wasnât the case.
Tonightâs wasnât as bad as some, but his heart still beat against his ribs. Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and standing, he walked to the closet to dress.
He crossed the room to a bookshelf and pulled out a book to hit the button hidden beneath. The shelf slid sideways, revealing a dark stairwell leading to an underground tunnel.
Tunnel wasnât the correct word; it was more of an ornate hallway leading to the palace gardens. He flipped the switch to the essence lights, stepped inside, and pushed the button on the stone wall to close the hidden door.
Once at the end, he pushed open the door and stepped into the palace gardens. They were located outside of the palace walls to help conceal the entrance to his tower, and he thanked the for their ingenious design. It was created as an escape in the event of an emergency, but he used it to come here undetected.
It was strange really, how they created the realms, designing things they deemed important, like The Capital in Erdikoa, the Lux Palace, the Umbra Palace, and the essence system. Then they left, making the and other mystics figure everything else out on their own. They never returned, nor did they speak with anyone, not even the . What was the point?
Caius stopped trying to figure out the universe when he was imprisoned by his own sister. He meandered through the winding paths and eventually found his way to the small pond hidden behind the lush greenery.
It was much smaller than the lake in the park, and there were no piers or fish. It had posts with lanterns placed sporadically along the walkway, giving off the faintest glow. Only a handful of people knew the pond existed, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Someone sat on the shore, and he stopped short as he closed in on the water. He debated turning around, but before he could, Auroraâs red, splotchy face turned to him. He waited for a quick remark or murderous glare, but all he got was her back as she turned away.
Caius had never been unsure of himself a day in his life, but he didnât know what to do as he stood with his hands at his sides, staring at a woman he should despise. His instinct told him to go to her, but his brain screamed at him to go back inside.
âHow did you find this place?â was what he settled on.
He saw her chest rise as she sniffled and dutifully ignored him. His gut tugged him toward her, and his feet moved without permission.
âIs it not part of the gardens?â she asked, still refusing to look at him.
Her voice held none of her usual bite, and he hated it.
âTechnically, yes,â he replied. âBut no one spends enough time in the gardens to find it.â
âWhat do you want, Your Grace?â she asked, her snark working its way back into her voice, bringing a whisper of a smile to his lips.
He huffed out a laugh and asked, âCrying over your mother again?â
Her head turned eerily slow to look at him, and by the time their eyes made contact, hers were filled with hate. âNever speak about my family again.â
His brows rose. âI will speak of whomever I wish.â She turned away from him again. âWhy were you crying?â
âI wasnât. My allergies are terrible here with these nighttime plants.â
âAs bad as you are at lying, Iâm surprised you were not arrested sooner.â
Aurora rose and stomped off, but she didnât get far. âCall off your dogs,â she demanded through clenched teeth as she struggled against the shadows he used to stop her.
âTheyâre not mine.â He turned to look at her. âWhy were you crying, Aurora?â
âWhy do you care?â she shot back. âIâm getting the treatment I deserve. Isnât that what you wanted?â
âWalk with me,â he said, releasing the shadows surrounding her.
He saw her hesitation, but eventually, she conceded and followed him as he walked around the pond. âWhat do you think you deserve, Miss Raven?â
Her brows came together. âWhat?â
âWhat treatment do you think you deserve?â he clarified.
The silence seemed to stretch forever, but then her mask of cool indifference blanketed her face when she answered, âIt doesnât matter what I think. There will always be someone who thinks of me as their villain. The least I can do is be a damn good one.â She looked at him. âEveryone loves to hate the villain, including you.â
âAm I your villain, Miss Raven?â He didnât know why he asked, but he was interested in her reply.
He wished he hadnât, because her response was immediate. âYes.â
Their gazes collided in a battle of wills, and he leaned down so his lips grazed her ear. âThen Iâll be a damn good one.â
With that, he left her standing in the glow of the lanterns, putting much needed space between them.
Rory thought as she watched Caius leave. Sheâd been too shaken by her encounter with Ronny to take advantage of her time alone with the king, but even if sheâd been in her right mind, she was ill prepared.
Dealing with Caius wasnât like dealing with men she picked up from the bars. Not only was he a king, but he was also a master manipulator.
The way heâd spoken to her tonight bordered on caring, and she knew that wasnât something he was capable of. It was time to throw everything she had into her plan and find Coraâs soul so she could kill the king and be done with it.
He always knew when she was lying, and she needed to get better at it. She would practice in her bathroom mirror like an idiot if that was what it took.
She hurried back into the palace, but when she entered the back door to the kitchens, a woman with dark hair lined with white streaks cut her off. Rory paused, unsure of what to do.
âYou were scared,â the woman said.
Rory stared dumbly. âNo, Iâm not.â
âNot now,â the woman clarified. âWhen you were walking back to the palace. You were scared.â
Is she being monitored now? âIâm scared of the dark,â Rory lied as she tried to walk around her.
âLiar,â the woman called after her.
Rory spun around and threw her arms up. âWhat do you want me to say? Who are you, anyway?â
âI want you to tell me why you were afraid. A serial killer running through the streets looking as though sheâd seen a ghost isnât normal.â The woman leaned a hip on the counter and grabbed a knife from the block to pick at her nails. âIâm Lauren.â
Rory gave up. âA guy at the bar threatened me, but to be fair, I threatened Nina first.â
âAh, Ronny,â Lauren concluded. âHeâs an asshole.â She looked at Rory with a serious expression. âHeâs also dangerous. His soul was a dark grey, and sending him here was a risk. Do not find yourself around him alone.â
With that final warning, Lauren turned and pushed her way through the back entrance, disappearing into the night.
Rory shook her head in disbelief. If Lauren meant to make her feel better, she did a terrible job.
As she approached her room, Rory wished sheâd slept in the garden when she saw Nina and two men standing in the hallway of the staff quarters. They abruptly stopped talking and stared at her with various looks of malice.
A warning crept down her spine, and she took measured steps toward them. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one, but without her strength, she wouldnât win.
It pissed her off how the staff acted like she personally wronged them. They were criminals as well, and yes, her crimes seemed much worse, but their judgment was harsh. Almost too harsh, and she wondered if she had Nina to thank for that.
They didnât speak to her or touch her when she stepped around them and into her room. She sagged against her door. Despite the serenity of Vincula, she feared she would die, whether it be at the hand of a fellow inmate, or after she exacted her revenge.
One thing was certain, she wouldnât leave Vincula alive.