Chapter 195 - 195
Night time had fell. The sky were not covered in their usual stars, instead they looked dull and unsettled. It was a sign that it would rain heavy.
The woman hurried her footsteps, trying to race against time. She couldn't be caught outside the exile house. She frowned harder, gritting her teeth. 'Exile house! They've turned her into a witch with some despicable disease. Taking away all of her possessions and exiled her into the forsaken house.'
Just as she hurried down the rough path towards the said house, she kicked a stone, causing her to stop, 'what in the—" she gritted out, face contoured in pain.
She hissed irritatedly. What exactly had she done wrong? She only played politics like the rest of the people did. What did she do so wrong to deserve a fate as disgusting as this? One where she would race against time to get into that god forsaken abandoned house she'd been forced into all so those damn snakes that call themselves her maids wouldn't snitch to Thorne.
A little more time, she whispered to herself. A little more time and she would free from the shackles Thorne had cuffed around her wrists.
She continued to walk and soon she arrived at the house. She'd spent five hours out of the house today. She knew the mass would find it impossible to believe that she'd spent so many hours asleep. She didn't mind though, not when she'd carefully crafted her way out.
She walked into the house as quietly as she could, thanking the gods for the use of witchcraft. Only that would give her a body as young as this and able to help her maneuver around in such old age.
She stood right outside her room, ready to sneak in when she felt it.
Jocelyn stiffened the moment she felt the cold iron pressed against the nape of her neck. Her eyes narrowed sharply, as the intruders scent wafted down her nostrils.
"It's you." She muttered.
The person pressed theirselves against her back, their breath fanning against her neck. "Unlock it." They said hoarsely.
Even though she maintained an unaffected facade on the outside. Jocelyn still feared. The lock clicked open under her trembling fingers.
She did as she was told.
The blade never left her skin as the door creaked inward. Jocelyn stepped inside first, spine straight despite the weapon pressed to her throat.
Careful," she murmured coolly. "If you nick me, I'll bleed on you. And I don't think that's something you'd enjoy."
A low sound came from behind her—half growl, half breath.
The door shut and only then did the pressure of the blade ease.
Jocelyn turned slowly, her brows raised as she did. And when she laid eyes on the said intruder, her lips curved into a mocking smile.
"Carter." She called.
The man stood before her, fully covered in a black cloak, his face covered. He lowered his hood, revealing his eyes.
He looked terrible. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. A man as great and powerful as Carter has been reduced to nothing but a filthy fugitive.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." She shook her head.
"Showing yourself so publicly. Do you not fear for your life?" She asked.
Carter looked around the room, like her words were pure filth. First he locked the door from behind, the wakes to the alcohol compartment which of course Jocelyn had. That was the only way to keep her mind sane and working. He removed the mask he had on, running his hand through his sweaty hair. He poured himself a cup of alcohol and took it in a gulp.
Jocelyn watched him from behind, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why are you here? Pressing a blade over my neck. What sort of—"
"Can you return to the palace?" Carter cut her off.
Jocelyn paused mid rant, "What?"
Carter stepped closer. "Can you, Return to the palace. I take it Thorne is angry but seeing as you're in a luxurious place like this. His anger mustn't be as high…"
Jocelyn scoffed. "Luxurious? How low had you fallen, Carter. To call this hell hole a luxury." She hissed.
"Jocelyn!" Carter snapped, voice low and hoarse. Jocelyn snapped her mouth shut. "Can you return to the palace?" He asked, eyes boring into hers.
Jocelyn didn't speak, she stared at him, seeing the desperation in his orbs. She stifled a smirk. "Perhaps I can. Why?"
"You can go back to the palace? Tomorrow yo be precise?" He asked, unable to hide the desperation in his voice any longer.
Jocelyn tilted her head slightly, studying him like one would a cracked mirror.
"Perhaps I can," she repeated slowly. "But you didn't answer my question."
Carter's jaw tightened. "I don't have the luxury of dancing around it."
She chuckled lightly. "Oh, but you don't have the luxury of keeping a secret from me, do you?" Her eyes flicked briefly to the door, then back to him. "You didn't crawl all the way here, risk your neck, and shove a blade to mine just to ask about palace permissions."
Carter exhaled sharply, like he contemplated say it out loud, he paced once before stopping in front of her, looking her dead in the eye. "Freya's execution is at nine tomorrow morning."
Jocelyn's expression didn't change. Carter didn't expect it too. Jocelyn was…..Jocelyn after all. Freya had been the too stupid one to think Jocelyn gave a darn about her.
"So?" She said flatly.
His eyes snapped to hers, angrily. "So she cannot die."
Jocelyn blinked once, then she smiled. Slowly it turned into laughter. She laughed so hard, she folded into two, tear leaking out the corner of her eyes.
"You've really ran out of options, haven't you? Lord—" she paused, shaking her head. "I forgot. You're no Lord. You're now a disgraced lord."
"Jocelyn!" Carter growled.
"Don't Jocelyn me.! I have no wish to be a part of this. Nor do I wish to risk my life and future with the king for you or your daughter."
Carter had expected this. He had seen it coming, after all, in a world like theirs. Nothing was done for free. "What is it that you want? I will grant your request. Ask me anything you—"
Jocelyn scoffed degradingly. "With what wealth? What power?" She cocked her head sideways. "Thorne has seized all that belongs to you. What power do you possess to grant me any thing i wish for?" She cuffed again, shaking her head.
"Come down from your high horse, Carter. You have nothing. Right now, you are nothing!" She continued. "Oh, how the mighty has fallen. Who would ever imagine it? The day that Lord Carter of the Carter estate would beg?"
"I am not begging." He gritted out. He might've lost everything but one thing he hadn't lost was his edge.
She stepped closer, invading his space now. "You are," she whispered. "And it's almost pathetic."
He grabbed her wrist suddenly, his grip tight. "You once said you wanted partnership. Power. Influence. This is it."
She yanked her hand free. "That time is gone. You have none of the things you have just mentioned." She hissed, "You should have taken my offer when it mattered. It's too late now."
Carter's composure finally snapped. "I am running out of time!" he snarled. "Freya is going to be executed tomorrow if I don't do something. All I need is for you to bring me into the palace. Find a way. That's all I ask of you."
Jocelyn's eyes hardened. "I don't care if both your daughters are executed tomorrow. If it doesn't benefit me. I will not take such risks."
Carters jaw tightened. "Tell me, what is it that you want. Something I can fulfill and I will."
At this, Jocelyn paused. This was it. This pure and clear desperation on Carter. It was everything and more.
She smirked, "Give me your word, Carter. Your blood will be a testament to your promise to me. When the time comes, I'll ask you what I seek from you and you shall fulfill it." It was heavy, she knew that but this was a way to have control over Carter.
She too was also rebuilding the things she's lost and even as bad as it is for Carter, she cannot deny how powerful the man is.
The same blade Carter had pressed over her neck, he dragged it over his thumb, drawing blood. "I give you my word" he said, pressing thumb over her palms.
Jocelyn smiled. "Before dawn tomorrow. I'll return to the palace before Freya's execution with you. I'll find a way to bring you in. I give you my word."