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.
"Shit," she yelped as she juggled the delicate accessory in her hands and clutched it tight to her chest when she finally had it secured in her possession.
"I do hope you're alright in there, Empress," Reylor shouted from the other side of the door. "The lack of movement has me concerned for your well-being."
"I'm...I'm alright," she stammered as she looked around, trying to find somewhere secure to hide the Key that provided her way home. Thinking quickly, she carefully placed the comb on the edge of the washbasin's counter, removed her shirt from over her head, and wrapped the hair comb in the garment to keep it hidden and safe.
With her shirt off, she resolved to continuing with the task, so she removed her belt next, taking extra care to hide the knife under her shirt, and it wasn't until she bent over to remove her pants that she realized how utterly sore she was. The ache in her back prickled with a burning sensation from her waist to her ankles and standing straight took more effort than it should have.
She was quickly beginning to reconsider her resignation to undertake her task in the first place, especially in her physical condition, but shook the idea out of her head. There was no going back now, even if she wanted to—at least not until she had the freedom and the safety to plant the Key.
Perhaps a bath was exactly what she needed after all.
The tub was already full. She imagined that was the silent order Reylor gave his guards earlier upon their dismissal, but she didn't give it another thought as she stepped into the lukewarm water and relaxed her naked body below the surface. Despite her current circumstances, the bath was exactly what she needed to help calm her nerves, and she closed her eyes to enjoy a few moments of peace while she regained control of her thoughts.
Not a moment later, the pounding sounded on the washroom door again, and she groaned at the lost minute of peace.
"Alexstrayna, I do hope you're not considering terminating your existence while you're in there."
She glared at the door silently, both irritated by the interruption, and annoyed that both brothers assumed she would so easily give up on living whenever she was taking a bath.
"I'm fine," she growled.
"Good. I believe it's time to finish up. The celebration will begin and you're not the only one in need of refreshing."
She rolled her eyes at the thought of Reylor pampering himself and stood up in the bath before he began to concoct any darker ideas. As soon as the chilled air touched her wet skin, she noticed there were neither towels, nor a robe, within the vicinity.
"Fuck."
"Is something wrong?" he called out to her, still eerily idle by the washroom's door.
She thought she heard a muffled chuckle in his voice as she stepped onto the cold stone floor. She could redress the clothes she had on, but she would have nowhere to hide the hair comb or her knife. Fuck, indeed.
"I don't have a robe."
"Ah, I see. Yes, that could be unfortunate, but I do believe there is one right out here that is available for your use."
She stared at the door. "Of course there is."
"Now, open the door and I'll be happy to bestow it upon you."
She was starting to shiver as the air hit the water on her skin. Alex knew she didn't have another choice or she was going to catch pneumonia due to her stubbornness. She begrudgingly padded over to the washroom door, hesitantly unlocked it, and slowly opened it just enough to look out, but definitely not enough for him to look in to see her.
"I'll take that robe, please," she requested as she reached her arm through the crack.
Reylor was less than accommodating.
"No, Empress, I said I would bestow it upon you."
Glancing over at the hidden hair comb and concealed knife, Alex let out a breath and proceeded to open the door to the bathroom, folding her arms across her chest in a last attempt at dignity.
He entered with his eyes wandering up and down her naked body. "Alexstrayna, even in your current condition, you are as radiant as ever."
"I'm pregnant, not maimed!" she snapped, holding out her hand for the robe.
He merely smirked with the garment in his arms, his eyes remaining on her as he slowly walked around and stopped behind her. She felt his breath on her neck as he leaned in close, and the slightest touch as he swept her wet hair over her shoulder began to render flashbacks deep in her brain. She closed her eyes to keep her panic at bay, though it was beginning to be very hard to do so.
He paid no attention to her unease and placed the robe over her shoulders, his rough hands grazing every possible inch of exposed skin as he did so. She quickly put her arms into the sleeves, wanting to conceal as much as possible, but when she reached back to tie the belt, he was already a step ahead of her. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he tied the robe shut for her while his chin rested on her shoulder.
"There, are you warmer now?" he rasped into her ear.
"I'm fine." She pulled away from his grasp, not forgetting to pick up her pile of belongings from the countertop, and walked into the main bedroom chamber.
The dress that awaited her stopped her in her tracks. She didn't know where it came from, and she didn't she want to know either. Somehow, he had a gown of black satin and red lace readily prepared and on display for her. She tried not to think about him keeping the dress on hand, on the off chance she was going to stop by, but she still couldn't ignore its beauty.
"I had to have them take the waist out for obvious reasons. I do prefer a tighter corset, but I suppose this look will have to do." He stood in the door of the washroom, amused.
He was always lingering in doorways.
She glanced back over to him. "Are you at least going to let me get dressed in peace?"
"That's not very fun, now, is it?"
"No." She sighed. "Don't you think it would make the dress' big reveal all the more enjoyable?"
He considered that for a moment. "Perhaps you're right." He shrugged. "Fine, Empress, I'll give you your moment of privacy. I have my own preparations to attend to. The mage outside your door will let you know when the celebration shall commence.
He began to walk towards the door but paused and turned to face her.
"Oh, and Alexstrayna?"
He made a detour to step in front of her, grabbing her chin and making her eyes meet his.
"Don't keep me waiting."