Two Thousand Years | The Empire Saga #1

Chapter Forty-One

Reylor's quarters were far more luxurious than she would have expected from the Betrayer. Once a prince, always a prince, she thought as she surveyed the contents of the room. Aside from the obvious infatuation, there was no mistake as to why he chose to keep her in his rooms this time around, for every window was barred, and every exit locked. Apparently, the former Lord Steward was also a sucker for security.

He stood in the doorway and watched as she meticulously scanned her new surroundings, and only smirked at her discouragement. She kept an eye on him while she continued to explore, and it seemed like it was almost an hour before she was sufficiently satisfied that there was no easy way out. What did catch her attention, however, was the fireplace on the side of the room farthest from the windows and balcony. She kept this in mind as she began to mull over the plan forming in her head.

She was where she wanted to be, but she needed to tread lightly. She was still the object of a psychopath's obsession, and she doubted her pregnancy would delay him in doing anything he wanted to her again. She felt her heart pound harder against her chest as the memories returned and tried to take those same deep calming breaths before turning to face him.

"Well, what now?" she asked.

He shrugged from his position against the doorjamb. He held himself similarly to Treyan, and she discovered she was missing her husband, and hating Reylor even more for it. "I'm sure I could think of a few ideas, Empress."

"No." She held up her hand, silencing him. She would play his games, but not that easily. "You mentioned a celebration in my honor. I'm assuming I'll be allowed the time to properly prepare myself?"

"Of course," he acquiesced as he walked from the door into the room, Alex being certain to maintain a safe distance at all times. "The washroom is there." He motioned to a door on his right as he sat in a nearby armchair.

She watched him incredulously. "You won't even give me the decency of a moment's privacy?"

"These are my quarters, Empress. You are a guest within my home, unless you would prefer to spend your time within the castle's dungeons? Mind you, I can't remember the last time someone tended them."

"Fine," she cut him off before he could entertain that thought any further and walked straight to the washroom.

Once inside, she shut the door tight behind her, and with a sigh of relief discovered she could lock it. There were no windows or other doors, and the room was cold. The only light came from a candelabrum on the washbasin's counter top, and those candles were already burning low. Taking advantage of the time alone, she began pacing the length of the washroom, back and forth, and allowed herself to panic.

What was she going to do?

There was no longer a chance of her surreptitiously planting the Key without his discovering it, and now that he knew she was here, there was no possible way he was going to give her a moment's rest. She was exhausted, but she would need to remain on her guard from that moment until the time was right.

The Key.

Her hand quickly reached up into her hair to retrieve the almost-forgotten relic. The delicate hair comb was cool under her touch, and she gently removed it and held it carefully in her hands before her. The weight of it was practically nothing, but the gravity of the power it possessed was beyond her comprehension. It was an exact replica of her coronation comb, and just as beautiful. That so much power was contained in this little accessory...

Her anxiety again began to rise. How would she ever find the time to plant her exit home?

She was startled by a pounding at the door, and almost dropped the hair comb from her hand.