Songbird's Cage

Chapter 11

Lark groaned as someone shook her. She was deeply settled within the dark warmth of sleep and her blankets, and didn't want to emerge from either.

"Lark," urged a familiar voice. "Please wake up!"

She opened her eyes, which took a vast amount of effort, and she struggled to focus when she did. Everything felt heavy and thick.

Aspen was hovering over her, his brow creased with worry.

"I've been trying to wake you for the last quarter hour," he said quietly. Lark blinked.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Lark," he said in disbelief. "It's Rory."

She sat up, her movements feeling sluggish and dreamlike, the dread in her stomach feeling very real.

"Get dressed," Aspen said. "We have to go."

She got to her feet, unsteady. The events of the night before were foggy. Making her way to her dressing chamber, she slipped out of her nightgown. The room was cold, which jarred her awake. The events of the night before were returning to her, the memory of Silas drugging her.

She dressed in her riding clothes – the only thing she could easily put on alone, with leggings and a front-lacing corset over a loose white shirt. After lacing her boots, she tied back her hair and left the room. Aspen was waiting for her outside the door.

"Are you alright?" he asked as she put a hand to the wall for support.

"Your brother gave me a sedative," she muttered. "To help me sleep."

Aspen looked at her for a long moment, but she was already walking out the door of her chambers.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Rory was brought to the king before his execution," Aspen explained. "It was his chance to plead for his life."

He led her down the corridor,
towards the throne room. But by the time they arrived, the doors to the massive hall were open, with Rory being led out by four guards. He was pale, and filthy from his time in the dungeon, his eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. It was clear that he hadn't slept. They had given him a pair of ragged pants, but nothing else. His hazel eyes were cast down at the floor, a haunted, empty look on his face. Aspen stopped some distance away, and she paused beside him, horribly conscious of what Silas had said to her the night before. She stood silently by her husband as the man she was falling for was dragged away.

Silas followed the guards out of the throne room. He met her gaze for a brief moment, shaking his head slightly, then dropped his stare back to the ground.

Lark's world went dark. Everything she'd done, everything she'd said to Silas had been for nothing. Rory, the first person she'd trusted in Esaria was going to be executed.

Her knees went weak and she sank to the floor. Aspen spoke her name, and she could feel him beside her, but all she could see was Rory in the darkness of his cell as he had pleaded for her to trust him, pleaded for her to help him.

She sobbed into Aspen's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. Silas's voice cut in, and the two brothers began to argue, raising their tones to shouts.

"That's all I asked of you," she whispered. "I begged you not to let him die."

Both men stopped arguing. She looked up at them, angrily wiping away her tears.

"You were the only one who could help him," she growled at Silas. "And you did nothing!"

She lashed out as Silas knelt before her, but he caught her hands.