Crown Of Spells

Chapter 18 - Lying

"Wait until your execution," Julian's ominous words hang in the air, sending a chill down my spine.

I gasp and instinctively yank back, cursing him under my breath. How did someone become this wicked?

"You're right. I'm sure the executioner will be thrilled to witness such a touching moment between us. Perhaps you can ask him to bring flowers. I'm quite fond of Poppies," I hiss, injecting a hint of defiance into my tone.

Julian's gaze narrows, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he bites his lips. The tension in the air grows, intensifying the already charged atmosphere. When was the last time I felt this bold?

"You're playing with your life right now," he retorts, his tone icy. He's right, I should remain silent, but the thought vanishes from my mind as soon as I see his face.

A defiant smirk plays on my lips, undeterred by the gravity of the situation.

"Playing, Knight Julian? I thought we were in the midst of a grand performance. You, the righteous inquisitor, and I, the condemned helpless maiden. Quite the drama, don't you think?" I realize I'm not thinking straight, perhaps influenced by an abnormal amount of painkillers I consumed.

Julian's jaw clenches, and his icy gaze sharpens. "You think this is a game?. Your fate depends on the truth."

I tilt my head mockingly. "Ah, yes, the truth. Do you even know what the truth looks like? Or are you merely following the script handed to you by those who pull the strings?" I laugh, fully aware of his allegiances and objectives.

I must have hit a sensitive spot; without hesitation, he sheaths his sword and aims it at my throat. In a matter of seconds, he slashes forward. I squeeze my eyes shut, anticipating the worst, but the blade never touches me. Instead, I see a swerved piece of my hair on my lap. Julian laughs, enjoying my frightened composure, and grabs the lock of hair, placing it into his pocket.

Huh, my hair? Suddenly, horror washes through me. If he was good at magic like I thought he was, he could easily use my hair to uncover my origins, my history, or where I've last been. No, he must not figure out I am—

"If you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself," he interjects. My jaw drops as he walks around, collecting the last of his clothes before grabbing my elbow and shoving me out of the room. This is it; he's taking me to be tried at the palace. Julian's grip tightens. We walk out the dimily lit corridor. The scent of medicine and herbs choking me.

"Don't you dare think of something stupid. I can't handcuff you because it'll bring unwanted attention. You're supposed to be my sister," he growls, whispering into my ear. As we walk down the corridor, every eye is on us. I realize that Julian wants to keep my arrest a secret, preventing too much commotion, a condition I reluctantly agree to. 

Nurse stops in her tracks, gaping at us, and patients gossip with one another. I tense besides Julian as we pass people. Another nurse notices us departing and opens the doors for us. I look at her with pleading eyes, hoping she understands that I need help. She must've thought likewise and gives me an extra roll of bandages.

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A bustling street greets us, and Julian takes me to the back where the horse's stall is. The same black stallion greets us, and Julian's face lights up at the sight of him. For a moment, Julian looked carefree and happy, like everyone else. I look away, pondering a plan. Everything I come up with hits a dead end. I really needed Miya right now.