XXIX. He Said, He Said

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Byron stared blankly at the filthy stone wall before him.

Never had he imagined he would be outsmarted this way.

Perhaps he had underestimated them, he thought as he turned his head, staring out at the unmoving guard outside his cell.

Ellie McPhee.

He would have her for this.

-Above and Below

*****

Wynne read the short note that arrived in Ulric that morning.

Stella silently sat in one corner, staring at him, the perfect epitome of patience.

Attack on Theobald tonight.

"Is it bad?" Stella inquired.

Wynne's jaw tightened.

Stay away from the Everards and know where your bloody loyalties lie, you idiots...

Thorne's words echoed in his mind.

Stella finally stood and walked over to his desk. With one glance, she managed to read the note before Wynne crumpled it in his uninjured fist.

He knew she was looking at him, studying him with judgment. But what else could he do?

He had done enough for the Everards.

He looked up and found Stella still looking at him, her expression blank. Yet he knew what she was thinking. "Not today, Stella," he ordered. "It is time for rehearsal."

Stella stared at him for a while before she squared her shoulders and turned. "Of course."

The next few hours Wynne spent on directing the rehearsal, changing scenes and ordering new mechanics on the effects.

But all the while, he was utterly distracted. The time was ticking and he kept reaching for his pocket watch as the rehearsal went on.

"Why don't we all take a short respite?" Stella recommended and walked down the stage without a word of approval from Wynne. "I am quite exhausted."

"No, resume," Wynne stonily rejected.

"No, I need a respite!" Stella angrily stated, looking over her shoulder at everyone. "Go, Christian, and study your lines," she ordered further.

The new actor nodded in hesitation before joining the flock of dancers exiting the stage.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" Wynne glared at her with fire in his eyes.

Stella stood before him, a warrior princess, her hands on her hips and an even stronger fire in her eyes. "No, I ought to be the one asking you that question. What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?"

"I am doing my job and so should you," he retorted.

She looked at him strangely, as though she was seeing a different man. "I have never questioned you, but now I believe I should, Wynne." She pointed at the entrance of the giant tent. "Go."

Wynne narrowed his eyes at her. "I am not certain if you are aware, Stella, but my place is with the theatre. You cannot order me to go anywhere else." He stood up, sternly holding her gaze. "If I ever go against my family again, they will not be forgiving."

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