enjoyebooks CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 44
POV: Rosemary
I freeze in the doorway of the underground chamber, sword half-drawn but held close to my leg so its metal won’t catch the light. William sits alone, knees drawn in, back hunched. He looks smaller than I remember—just a child, barely ten, though his eyes carry years of grief no one his age should know.
He stares at the floor, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. His shoulders rise and fall with shallow, shaky breaths. Not angry breaths. Frightened ones.
My grip tightens.
This boy isn’t a monster.
He’s being made into one.
Torchlight flares suddenly down the corridor. I slip behind a stone archway just as a tall figure enters the room.
Henry.
He carries a torch, though his magic already lights the labyrinth. Dramatic flair—nothing more. The flame drips shadows across his face, sharpening every cruel angle.
William straightens immediately.
Henry doesn’t look at him. He sets the torch in a bracket with deliberate force, dust falling from the impact.
“Were you practicing?” Henry asks.
William nods quickly. “Yes. I was trying your spell—the shifting trick—but I didn’t get it right.”
Henry snorts. “Obviously.”
William lowers his head.
I grit my teeth. The tone alone is enough to make my fingers itch for my blade.
Henry steps forward, towering over the boy. “Show me what you did.”
William raises his trembling hands, forming a small orb of shadow magic. It flickers weakly, fading in and out like a dying star.
Henry clicks his tongue. “Pathetic.”
William flinches. “I—I’m sorry.”
“Being sorry doesn’t make you useful.” Henry waves a hand, dispersing the magic as though swatting a fly. “Your mother could have done that in her sleep.”
William’s face twists, grief and shame mingling painfully. “I’m trying.”
“Trying is nothing,” Henry snaps. “Results matter. Revenge requires precision. You are nowhere near ready.”
The boy swallows hard. “I—I will be. I promise.”
Henry crouches down suddenly, grabbing William’s chin in his gloved hand. The torchlight casts his expression in harsh relief—eyes wild with something twisted and consuming.
“Listen to me,” he says in a low voice. “Your mother died because of that man. Because Sebastian betrayed her. Because he stabbed her through the heart while begging her to stop.” He tightens his grip. “Do you want that same blade to come for you next?”
William’s breathing quickens. “No…”
“Then stop acting like a useless child.”
“I’m not useless,” William whispers, though the tremor in his voice betrays him.
Henry stands abruptly. “Prove it.”
William wipes his face quickly, as if ashamed of any displayed weakness. “I—what should I do?”
Henry begins pacing the small chamber. “The next step of the plan depends on you.” He glances over his shoulder, expression razor-sharp. “You have already met the Queen’s sons.”
My heart drops. So Evangeline was right.
William nods. “Yes. He was nice to me.”
Henry’s head snaps toward him. “Nice?” he barks. “Is that how you speak? You are not there to make friends.”
William recoils. “I—I know. I’m sorry.”
Henry strides toward him, eyes blazing. “You think this is a game? That you can play outside like any other child while a king lives comfortably in his palace after murdering your mother?”
William squeezes his eyes shut. “No, Father. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t call me that,” Henry snarls, voice low and venomous, “unless you’re prepared to act like a son worth claiming.”
William’s breath hitches. He folds inward, shoulders shaking. “I’ll do better. I really will.”
Henry exhales sharply, as if annoyed by the child’s fragility. “You must get close to the Queen’s son. That one trusts you easily. Use that. And once you do, the rest will fall into place.”
My pulse spikes.
He plans to use one of the Queen’s sons...
A ten-year-old pawn against another ten-year-old.
The cruelty of it burns through me like fire. I don’t move, afraid even my breath might betray my presence, but every muscle in my body screams to step out and cut Henry down where he stands.
William glances up timidly. “What happens after I get close?”
Henry turns away. “Not your concern yet.”
“But—”
“Enough questions,” Henry snaps. “Your job is to obey. You were born for this.”
William looks at the floor again. “I don’t want to hurt him…”
Henry whirls on him so fast I almost lunge forward instinctively.
“You don’t have the luxury of wanting anything,” he hisses. “You will do as I say. You will avenge your mother. And you will make the king pay.”
William shrinks. “Yes… I understand.”
Henry watches him a moment longer, breath steadying. “Good. I’m leaving for now. Do not fail me again.”
William nods quickly.
Henry turns toward the doorway.
I step backward silently, pressing myself against the cold stone wall. I need to get out—get back to the palace—warn the King, warn the Queen, warn everyone.
Henry’s boots click sharply on the stone floor, echoing through the corridor. He passes close—too close—and I hold my breath.
Two seconds.
Three.
Four.
I ease back another step—
And something slips.
A soft metallic ping echoes through the chamber.
I freeze in horror as I see it bounce across the stone floor in slow, traitorous motion.
My ring.
The silver ring my mother gave me.
It rolls once… twice… then settles in the open doorway, catching the torchlight in a bright, damning glint.
William looks up sharply.
Henry stops walking.
Silence floods the chamber, heavy as lead.
Then Henry slowly—very slowly—turns his head toward the shadows where I stand hidden.
His lips curl into a thin, knowing smile.
“Well,” he murmurs, eyes locking onto the darkness concealing me. “What do we have here?”
And I stand frozen—caught—not a breath escaping my lungs.