“It was. There are plans for that holding. The human is being moved.”
“Where?”
The Unseelie lifts his sword, using it to point at the empty cell across the way.
Huh?
Later that afternoon, Rys stops dead in his tracks when he is brought back to his cell and he finds me sitting inside of it.
With a half-smile, I wave over at him.
He whirls on the two guards escorting him back to his cell. Unlike this morning, I recognize both of them: it’s Dusk and Kyr, a soft-spoken Seelie guard who often drops off my meals without much interaction. Unlike some of the other guards in Siúcra, he doesn’t leer and he isn’t rough. He reminds me of Bram. I’m not a fan, but I don’t not like him.
Not like how I loathe Dusk.
He has this tiny, satisfied smirk on his face as Rys turns to confront him. The scarred Seelie can’t get too far, though, since Dusk already has his sword raised high. He stops when barely a few inches separate his heaving chest from being impaled.
Rys’s body language screams just how furious he is, but when he speaks, he sounds as calm and as disinterested as ever.
“What is she doing in there?”
“Orders came down to bring the human back to this wing while you were in the shadows,” murmurs Kyr.
“This wing perhaps. But this is my cell,” Rys says, scowling. “Move her back to hers.”
“Can’t. Sorry. A new prisoner is coming in. We’re supposed to be giving him the human’s cell.”
“There are plenty of others and we both know that. At least six by my count in this section alone. This is my space. Move her.”
“What’s the matter, Rys?” needles Dusk. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I’m not sure what it is that he said—or if it’s that Dusk finally enters the conversation—but Rys succumbs to his obvious fury. His golden eyes blaze and, leaning into Dusk, he moves until the point of the Unseelie’s sword grazes the material of Rys’s prison uniform.
“As if you care about my wants.” The Seelie prisoner clenches his jaw. His cheeks go hollow, throwing his scar in sharp relief. “Answer me this: are you punishing her or me?”
Dusk’s lips quirk slightly. Bastard is enjoying this. “Whoever said that someone’s being punished?”
No one had to. It’s obvious that one of us is. Even if my old cell is designated for another prisoner, what about the countless others that are free? No. Someone decided to stick me in here on purpose. From the cat-who-got-the-canary look on Dusk’s face, I’m putting my money on the culprit being him.
I just don’t know why.
“Helix will never allow it,” Rys says.
“Helix isn’t here, is he? He’s gone to play lapdog to Oberon at the king’s court. By the time he returns again, it won’t matter where she is. Look at her while you can. I’m doing you a kindness, Rys. You can’t have your human. You can’t have this one, either, but you can pretend.”
Well. That answers that. Rys is the one being punished—and Dusk is using me as a tool to do that.
I should’ve guessed. This isn’t the first time he made a comment like that. When I first arrived at Siúcra, Saxon and Dusk decided to put me in my original cell just so that I could tease the “traitor”. Now Dusk has taken it one step farther.
There used to be two sets of jail bars keeping us apart. Now we’re going to share a space the size of the bedroom in my apartment.
With a jerk of his chin, Dusk motions to Kyr. The Seelie guard waves the cell open, then stands back so that Rys can stride inside. In all the days I was staying in my old cell, I’ve never once seen Rys fight back. He’s stuck in here, and he makes it easier on himself by just doing what the guards tell him to.
Only, this time, he doesn’t enter the cell without any prompting. Instead, he continues his staring contest with Dusk. Unless I’m seeing things, his faded tan seems a little darker than it did the last time I saw him.
He’s glowing a bit, too.
“Try it,” dares Dusk. “Lose control, traitor, and see what happens. I could easily take her again. Maybe she’d prefer to stay in the guards’ quarters with me and my team, hm?”