Fires of Treason - Erin O'Kane Page 0,47

a weight on my chest. I may not have experienced freedom for long, but I will be forever grateful for the time I’ve had, which Grayson has given me.

“Are you ready?” Wilson inquires, and I get the impression it’s not the first time he’s asked. Nodding, I smile and take his offered arm before we say our goodbyes to Jayne.

Walking down the corridor, I look around, waiting until I know we’re alone. The main passages will be much busier, so I need to ask while we’re still in the residential part of the castle. Most of the lords and ladies live in the city, travelling by coach to attend the events at the castle, and these rooms are reserved mostly for guests, so I know now is my only chance.

Taking a step closer to Wilson, I keep my voice low as I speak, making sure to stay near. “Do you know what this is all about?” He smiles down at me and shakes his head. Anyone watching might think we are just a young couple enjoying each other’s company, and that’s exactly what he wants them to think.

“No, only that you and an escort have been invited to attend a meal in the great hall,” he informs me, pulling a card from one of his pockets and handing it to me. I can’t read it, but I trace my finger over the embossed letters. Taking the card from my grasp, he slides it back into his pocket before lowering his voice even more. “Although the rumour mongers say it’s to do with Prince Rhydian choosing a wife.”

My gut clenches, as his explanation matches with what Jayne told me.

They’re just rumours. It could be for any other reason, I tell myself, my palms sweaty as I try to calm my racing heart. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help reassure me much considering the recent, violent events that had taken over the castle.

“If that’s true, then why have I been invited?” My voice rises as I become more nervous. Wilson squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile.

A young lady and a man I assume is her father exit a door just ahead of us, greeting us with a nod. I don’t recognise either of them, although they must have been at the same events as us. Wilson slows his steps and we wait for them to move farther down the hall before I speak again, leaning in close.

“Does the prince know about me? Why would he ever want to choose an ex-slave?”

Wilson shrugs his shoulders at my questions with a thoughtful expression. “Perhaps, but maybe he’s just rebelling against his father? What better way to do that than to invite the most wildly inappropriate woman? Or perhaps they want to keep an eye on you?”

That makes sense. While the king knows, he might not have told Rhydian about my past. After all, Jacob doesn’t know who I really am, so it could be possible that the crown prince doesn’t either. All I know is that I don’t want to be anywhere near the princes, they are dangerous.

What about Jacob?

Unease twists my stomach again. I like Jacob, and I’ve come to care for him. He is kind and sweet, nothing like his father who enslaved me. While he might not have been directly involved, he only noticed me when I became ‘Lady Clarissa.’ Does being related to my captor make him my enemy? Frowning, I shake my head at the thought. No, Jacob isn’t my enemy, he’s my friend. He can’t help who his father is, after all, only his actions can dictate who he really is.

If he’s your friend, if you trust him, you should be able to tell him who you truly are. Vaeril knows, even Tor knows, and you barely know him. My nagging doubt creeps back in. Could I tell Jacob about my past? About who I really am?

Thankfully, I’m saved from answering myself as we enter the main walkways of the castle and see the other young ladies being escorted towards the hall. Guards line every hallway, their shrewd eyes watching us with their hands hovering over their weapons. What do they think is going to happen? That one of the ladies will pull a weapon from their skirts? Snorting at the thought, I quickly smooth my expression when Wilson glances over with a questioning expression, but I can see how tense he is.

The atmosphere is heavy, which is something I wouldn’t expect for a normal evening banquet.

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