I stare at him, afraid to blink. A shiver rakes my spine as a frigid draft oozes into the prison from the open door at the end of the hall.
"You must also be the girl who grows illegal crops in the southern forest," he says, as his green eyes glint like a hunter sizing up his snared prey.
"What is it to you?" I stammer, gripping the cell bars. My eyes flicker to Lyra, who presses herself flat against the furthest wall of her cell, her cheeks white as bone, eyes wide.
"It is treason to grow your own crops. A crime that the king will not take lightly. The Convex have their farms." He shifts his weight, angling his head. "Don't they?"
I bare my teeth. "Don't act stupid. You know about the blight," I seethe, and he raises his thick brows lazily as if we were merely discussing the weather. "Our crops are nothing but rotten mush. The Convex Sector is starving."
"Oh? That would explain why all you Convex people are falling like flies." His voice is hewn from stone but a muscle ripples in his jaw, and his eyes flash with a hint of... guilt. Knowing.
"Pig," I snap, slamming my hand into the bar, flinching as the crash rings in my ears and Lyra squeaks.
He blows air through his nose, smirking. As he prowls back and forth with feline smoothness, I glare at him. His pale skin glints in the candlelight and a dark essence oozes from his clinking armour. Shrouded in shadows and eyes flecked with light, he is dripping with the night itself. As if he carries the darkness, the moon, and the stars.
"Are you actually going to uphold this innocent façade?" he growls, examining the dainty point of his spear with his gloved finger.
"Word spreads fast, does it?" I say, swallowing my rising panic.
Where have I seen this man before?
He lets out a low laugh that slithers along my bones. "I didn't have to hear about what you did through mere gossip. I was there, Elle."
"What do you mean?" The words fall from my mouth too quickly. I swear he can hear my hammering heart by the unkind smirk on his face.
He clicks his tongue, taking his time to respond. "You killed my friend in the forest."
Lyra gasps and tears dribble down her cheeks. She backs into the stone wall, her watery gaze meeting mine and the guilt threatens to yank me into its storm. How could I do this to her? I promised to protect her. The Tranq throws her a nasty glare.
"You killed my friend, and then you tried to kill me." He pulls down the shoulder of his linen tunic, revealing a deep, red gash.
My head rings as weakness seeps into my muscles, making me want to melt into the cracks of the stones. "You were there," I say, trembling like an idiot.
"Sure was," he says, pulling the fabric back over the wound with a cat-like scowl. "I must say it took me by surprise. A girl from the Convex Sector hurled a knife at the king's Tranq. You have a skill... and apparently enormous, stupid balls. But that skill needs to be honed since you failed to hit my heart."
I chew my lip, any counter-response dying on my tongue. He lived. The Tranq lived. The air vanishes from the dungeon, and I struggle to breathe.
"Such a cold, hateful creature." He flings the insult like food scraps.
"I didn't do it on purpose," I finally snap, coals smouldering within me. His eyes meet mine, dancing in the darkness and it makes me want to scream. "You both attacked me. The first Tranq's death was an accident."
"He is still dead." His voice drips with creeping fury, but his chiselled face remains carved from granite. "Besides, I think we both know the second attempt on me wasn't by mistake."
Heat bursts into my cheeks, and I spin around, stalking across the prison cell, desperate for fresh air. But I swallow back the terror festering in the back of my throat and find my voice, deep within the parts of me that belong to my father. "I'm not sure what delusional, well-fed world you live in. But sometimes, Convex must be selfish. And I made a promise. I will not let my sister starve to death."
He scowls, shaking his head. "Your actions might not have been pre-calculated. But it was a cold move. You threw the knife at my heart."
"Oh, get over yourself." I lean against the wall, wishing I could melt into it.
"Careful, darling," he says, grabbing his staff and spinning it in his hand. "That is no way to speak to your prince."
"The prince?" I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a bubble of laughter.
He raises his thick brows, leaning his staff against the wall. "The king is my father." A flicker of feral amusement sparkles in his eyes. "That makes me the prince, does it not?"
The prince. We always knew the king had a son. But his identity had been a secret for as long as I could remember. The king would display the odd picture of him growing up, and I am told he attends ceremonies and parties in the palace. But his name is a secret. Other than his title; Prince Talin.
"What is your name?" I dare ask.
He smiles. It's a surprisingly lovely smile that stirs warmth through my chest. "You know we would both get in trouble if I spoke my name. I must wait until my wedding day to reveal it. Although, I suppose you won't be there."
I roll my eyes. "So, why are you actually here? You've told me I killed the Tranq and almost killed me. What else could you possibly want?" My words ring into the stone around us and I almost smirk at the bemused look on his face. "If it is to make me feel guilty, don't bother. Because I am not sorry for looking out for my own."
He sneers at the drawl I hold on to his title. "You have made a grave mistake, Elle. Monsters and madness await you upon your exile."
"I didn't realise you cared."
He sighs, the weight of my words settling into the green of his eyes. "I am not heartless. You better hope the monster's teeth are sharp, and that your death is quick."
A cold breeze whispers along my skin, and I grimace, opening my mouth to respond. That's when a howl tears from his throat. He staggers back, clutching his other shoulder. Blood seeps from a fresh laceration, and Lyra's eyes almost fall out of her skull. She startles, dropping the spear and it clangs wildly in her cell. The spearhead is coated in fresh crimson blood.
"You need to leave us alone," she musters our mother's cool, steady voice despite the quiver in her lips.
His lip curls into a snarl. "Creatures," he spits.
He reaches into the cell as Lyra jumps away in fear, snatching the staff and marching out of the dungeons. The slamming door rings my eardrums long after he stalks away.
I have little indication of the time, or if it is day or night beyond the prison. The only thing that gives some hint is the two meals and jugs of water the Tranqs bring us. But the prince doesn't show up again for a while. I suppose a prince has better things to do than tend to the prisoners in his dungeon.
At last, he returns to the gallows. He stumbles through the corridor, muttering a string of curse words. The hungry, feral glint in his gaze sends a needle scraping down my spine. Night darkness billows from him as he stalks down the hallway, his boots snapping and echoing. I scramble to my feet, giving him my fiercest glare.
He prowls up to my cell, and his cheeks are blotched with pink as if he has been crying.
"Did it feel good?" he barks, slamming his fist against the barricades. "Huh?"
Lyra startles from her stupor and cries out. "Elle!"
"Did what feel good?" I ask, ignoring the roar of blood past my ears.
"Killing him," he slurs, his breath reeking of liquor. "Did you enjoy killing him? Are you so full of hate that you would kill him? Like he meant nothing."
I scrunch my nose, wanting to slap that tight frown from his face. "What the hell? You know I was defending myself."
"He's gone," the prince's voice cracks as tears swell in his eyes. "You took him away."
"If you weren't out in the forest stalking prey perhaps, he would still be alive." I tighten my grip around the cell bars, refusing to back down.
"You were the one breaking the law."
"Laws your king created. Laws enforced by you."
The prince flinches, his teeth clacking. "He's your king, too."
I scoff and let out a dry laugh. "No. He isn't." My face burns and I can hear my father's words. No king of mine.
The prince clenches his jaw and I notice he is not brandishing his staff. "It was his funeral today." A low breath falls from his mouth as he sniggers. "He had a daughter. A little girl. His wife loved him. To me, he was –"
He cuts himself off, hanging his head before shooting me a dark-cast gaze.
"What do you want me to do?" I bark, tightening my grip on the cell bars. "Do you want me to kneel and beg for your forgiveness? Your father killed my parents."
His eyes flash and he grinds his teeth, loosening his shoulders. "Whatever heartless monster you picture us as, Concave or Tranq, we are still human."
"I am sorry for the loss," I say, fighting the bile rising in my throat as the image of the dead, blood-soaked Tranq burns through my mind. His eyes unseeing, his arms limp, sprawled around him. The same arms that once hugged his daughter and his wife.
He waves his hand in dismissal. "Don't lie to me. Now, please stop talking, for once, while I get on with my job."
The prince gestures for me to approach him with his finger, curling it towards himself. He angles his head, pouting. My blood boils at the mere sight. His change in demeanour unsettles me. I clench my fists.
"Go to hell, prince."
He sloppily places a hand over his heart, mocking offense. "I've got something interesting to tell you. I suppose you may know since the monsters await you and if truth be told, I am tired of keeping it a secret."
"Just say it."
He shoves his hands in his pockets and sways, stumbling on his feet like a fool. "I must whisper. Voices have a way of travelling far in this palace."
I grind my teeth and march up to the cell door, bracing myself. He leans his head close to the iron bars and smirks.
"My name is Ruben. Ruben Talin," he whispers.
Without another word, the prince steps back withdraws a key from his pocket, and sticks it into the lock of Lyra's cell.