Love And Honour (Book 2)

Chapter VI

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Three months later

"Logan." She whisper shouts at him for the fourth time, her hair swinging as she once again looks the way she came. She cannot afford to be caught down here just because the stupid man is in a deep sleep. Stubbornly she decides that if he does not react the next time she calls she will leave and he will have to do without the meal. However then her eyes zone in to his back that has significantly slimmed during his time locked up and she knows that he cannot afford to go without a meal. He is slowly wasting away and her meals may be the only reason he has not starved. "Logan." She claps a hand over her mouth when it comes out louder than she intended. He stirs and rolls over on the thin, hard and dirty mattress.

Now his face is to her and she studies his features, not for the first time but certainly the first time with him being unaware. His dark blonde beard has grown and darkened, covering all of his lower face thickly and his hair is way past his ears. His cheeks have hollowed out slightly but the beard hides most of the damage. Dust mars his skin but his tan still has not died down. He breathes deeply until he starts to cough. He abruptly sits up and proceeds to cough for several long minutes. She looks back down the passage hoping no one cares enough to come and check on him making such a racket. No one does and she allows herself to relax a little.

He finishes and clutches his stomach, hunger hitting him. He turns his head and blinks at the light. A small smile moves the beard slightly. She pushes the plate under and he lifts up the bowl, the contents are still warm. "The kitchen had leftovers; you will have to eat quickly so I can return the bowl."

Despite her words, he takes his time, savouring each mouthful of the rich soup. When finished he looks up at her and sees her eyes nervously flitting back and forth. He stands and keeps hold of the bowl. She frowns. "Just push it back under."

"Not yet. You are my only eyes for what is happening above ground." She moves the light so that her face is in shadows. "You have told me nothing; you want the bowl back, you tell me what you know."

"Give me the bowl back and I will tell you."

"No." Is his simple reply.

"Why not?"

"You will leave the second I give you the bowl back as you have with every meal. You will have no reason to remain. As long as I have this you are scared of what they will do if they find out. Tell me and you will have it back, those are my terms."

"Fine. What do you want to know?" If it weren't for the fiery torch she would have crossed her arms in stubbornness.

"How is Zara doing? Does she still believe me to be guilty?" his voice is so full of hope for the opposite that she struggles with her words to answer him. Her silence is enough and he presses his lips together and leans against the bars. "I wish she would have just come and asked me, just the once."

"The evidence against is pretty damning." She says softly.

"And yet, you believe me to be innocent and you do not even know me. I thought my Siren knew me enough to know I could never do what they have accused me of."

The quiet stretches out and she glances again up the passage, thinking she heard a stone kicked across the cold stone floors. No noise follows it and she looks to Logan. His eyes are on his empty hands and she looks down to see the bowl by her feet. "Jasiel was buried at the top of this hill that he always used to go and sit on when he was younger; almost a thousand people were in attendance. Lord Kier has ordered that no one is to go near you until a date is set for your trial but I think he wants you to wallow in the dark for longer. I wrote a letter to both your brother and that girl you mentioned. I have not heard a reply. I am sorry, Logan."