Honour or Reason - Book 1# in the Burning Prince Chronicles

Chapter Thirty-Two

Conlaed was gagged and bound on the floor of a crumby attic in an opium den. A bag stinking of smoke covered his head. Down below were the shrieks and laughs of addicts as they revelled in the den's produce. Con wondered if his captors were among those screaming and laughing. He could imagine so. Denross and Keptelle were the most dishonourable knights Conlaed had ever known. They deserved to crawl among the city's greatest wretches. Over the past two days a fire had begun to crackle within him again. Conlaed cursed the box of sealed vials untouched in his chamber.

His bones ached almost as much as his heart. It sickened him to think Aglaesha may be searching for him, putting herself into danger. Conlaed could not bear it if she got hurt for him. The thought of Aglaesha in peril and Brilyn locked in a tower was the only thing that kept him determined to escape. They were the only things that truly mattered to him now. Them and the memory of his father's warm smile. Con had to fight for them. Everything he had done in the past few weeks was in jeopardy if he gave up now. Everything he loved was in jeopardy if he let Denross and Keptelle best him. Brilyn would surely perish, Aglaesha would be alone and in danger of being punished for her betrothed's crimes.

Conlaed strained against the ropes again, the fire rising. He could feel the heat burning hotter and hotter. Sweat drenched his writhing body and stung his eyes. Con's stomach rumbled painfully and his throat was severely parched. It was unbearable. Each day all Denross and Keptelle had allowed him was a few sips of water and a bite of stale bread. Conlaed wondered if Brilyn was starving up in his tower. He hoped not. Two days without more than a crumb of food had been agonising - Bri was far stronger than he if he managed to survive on less.

Over the two days Con's mind had only been filled with thoughts of Brilyn and Aglaesha. When the dark closed in, he remembered his true love's sweet kisses and her soft fingers on his face. He pictured Aglaesha's moonlight hair and ice-blue eyes, and a fire ignited in his heart and broke through the gloom that invaded his mind. Conlaed imagined her calm, lovely voice. He heard her telling him that she loved him, that she would never doubt his love. He felt her everywhere, like a shower of ever burning sparks.

Other times, he dwelled on Bri. Brilyn, kidnapped and locked up - just like he had been. As he lay there, he thought of the filthy prison his best friend was trapped in and it almost made him grateful for the opium den. Conlaed doubted Jarete would give his apprentice even a scrap of food or drop of water. If Brilyn was still alive, he was just incredible. In his heart, somehow Con knew Bri was alive and fighting. Despite his lack of fighting skills, the scholar had soul and courage and more spirit than anyone Conlaed knew. Brilyn had survived so much. He had been sold to a cold half-Fey, hurt, abandoned and yet still managed to smile and love and care.

Conlaed's world had only just begun to fall apart, but all along Brilyn had been living a life filled with betrayal and pain. Not once had his friend complained or taken it out on anyone. Brilyn had only ever thought of his friends, while Con had allowed himself to hurt others and distance himself. Before, he had seen himself as the strong, powerful one. Bri had always been the weak one, the fragile one. In the end Brilyn was the strongest of them all. He had not had to hear he was special to keep living. He let himself love and grow. He let himself become someone more than a mere role.

Footsteps sounded from below before the hatch or door to the attic swung open, then slammed shut. Con sighed.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

Denross kicked the prince in the side, before yanking him to his feet. Con was forced into a chair and a hand came into the bag over his head and removed the gag; the filthy bag remained. Conlaed chuckled coldly. "Having fun with your friends?"

"Shut up, you bratty bastard," Denross snarled. Con snorted.

"No Keptelle? Is he still having fun, then?"