Chapter 42: Out Of Control
Castle Ravenstone looms ahead; it never stops looking like a threat—even when it's home. I lean back in the carriage seat, arms crossed, still chewing over every word from Bishop Lark's lips. That whole conversation left a bitter taste in my mouth.
You're going to die.
His voice echoes in my head. The worst part is that I don't even think he was lying to me. The Archbishop and his cardinals saw me as a threat—something unnatural, something dangerous. The first three-mark bearer in history, a power they didn't understand and couldn't control. And what men fear, they seek to destroy.
I exhale sharply through my nose. I need to talk to Cain. Now. But another thought creeps in as the carriage jolts over the stone path. Maybe I won't need to worry about the Order's assassins at all. Maybe Cain will do their job for them.
A soft weight presses against my shoulder, drawing me out of my thoughts. I glance down to see Cecilia curled up against me, her short blonde hair falling messily over her face, her breathing slow and even. She must've dozed off sometime during the ride. In sleep, she looks... peaceful. Not like an Inquisitor. Not like someone I should be wary of. Just a girl, exhausted and resting against me like she belongs there.
I nudge her lightly. "Hey. We're here."
She stirs, making a small sound in the back of her throat before hazel eyes flutter open, dazed with sleep. "Mmm... already?" Her voice is soft, still heavy with drowsiness. She murmurs something else, too quiet for me to catch, then leans in, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss to my lips.
"I still don't get why you tagged along," I mutter, leaning away slightly, not missing the way her lips curl into a smirk. "You should go back."
Cecilia just tilts her head, studying me like I'm amusing. "I just wanted to spend a little more time with you." Her voice is light and flirty.
"I don't know when I'll get the chance again."
I snort, a dry laugh escaping me. "Is that why you slept the whole ride here?"