Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 10

I chew my lip, my stomach churning at the possibility of the Tranqs realising that Aston, indeed, sells illegal produce. "I don't even know you," I say, smacking my lips at the bitter taste in my mouth. "Let alone like you."

He snorts unkindly, rolling his eyes. "No one cares what you want at this stage. This is bigger than you and you're damn lucky to even still be alive."

"The Convex... my people are masters at dancing with the God of Death. My death would have at least promised my sister remain alive. Now, with me in the palace, she is just a target. He could and will use her against me."

"You killed my friend," he snarls. His voice is the shadows themselves, low and dark and inviting. "I am doing you a favour."

Unpleasant pig. I swallow nausea as the wide-eyed Tranq flashes across my mind. My knife embedded in his chest, cocooned in his blood.

"Your king would have killed my sister and me by starvation if I didn't bend the rules and grow the potatoes."

"And look where it got you?" he gestures to the room. "Under the king's scrutinising cruel eye. Don't be so naïve to think he won't find his own selfish way to punish you further. It's coming, Elle. Being betrothed to me might shield you from some of that blood and loss."

"As if I didn't know that, Ruben." I fling his name at his face and grind my teeth. "Did you come in here to argue and gloat about your heroic moves? If so, please leave."

"Gods, you're odious." He yanks the door open and strides into the hallway, tossing a stony face over his shoulder. "Come on."

"I suppose you will not tell me where we are going?"

He flicks his hand up, and down my body like it's obvious. "You're a Tranq now. Curvy, red dresses will not cut it, darling."

I tug at my linen dressing gown, feeling exposed. "Pig," I say.

"Nice one," he drawls before stalking out of the bedroom and out of sight before his voice echoes back into my chamber. "Come on, Elle."

He leads me through the maze of the palace, winding through corridors, passing servants scurrying about their morning tasks. We descend a set of stairs and arrive outside, my footsteps crunching, the frost clinging to the manicured grass. The sweet scent of grass tints the air as we cross the wide field, the blade, tipped in white frost, crunching beneath my feet. Another building flanks the other side. Short and squat compared to the palace, yet still gleaming in the light.

I revel in the warm sun on my skin until we slip into the building. Yet another corridor, lit only by a series of candles mounted to the walls.

We arrive in a room that appears to be an enormous wardrobe. Racks and shelves border the walls, filled to bursting with Tranquillity uniforms and helmets, both with and without the curved horns. Ruben shoots me a smirk. As if that were a cue, Larissa scurries into the room, switching her small briefcase into her right hand, and then back again, her eyes flicking between Ruben and me, as if she's trying to assess the level of tension that she must wade through.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, looking over her shoulder as if the rest of the girls are about to follow her in like ducklings.

"I am here to help you look like a Tranq," she says, shrugging. "Tranqs are also Concaves. They look put together."

"Do you need my help, Larissa?" Ruben asks, his mouth flopping upwards. "Shall we fix Elle with more knives so she can kill us?"

"Get out, Prince!" She swats him with her briefcase.

Ruben chuckles, tossing his hands up into the air as he hastens away.

Larissa rifles through the rows of pants and tunics, plucking out the pieces. She helps me into the clothing and fits me a new pair of black leather boots. I can already feel the material biting into my skin, forming blisters, as I pace back and forth, making sure they fit.