Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Leska's gaze fixed on Cressida, her eyes widening in recognition and disbelief. Instinctively, the woman's hand darted to wrap around the hilt of her sword and Cressida felt a surge of fear ripple through her, memories of their previous encounter resurfacing with vivid clarity.

Cressida felt her heart pound like a drum as their eyes locked, neither of them breaking their gaze.

After several strained seconds, Leska stepped closer, her voice cutting through the silence. "You... you're the one responsible for all of this," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice quivering with suppressed emotions.

Cressida's throat tightened as she tried to find the words to respond, but they caught in her chest. She had seen the pain in Leska's eyes the day before, and now she had to face the consequences of Callidus's destructive actions.

Leska's eyes flicked to Quail, her lips curling in disdain, "What's this? Your attempt at a rescue mission? Hope he knows how dangerous it is to stand next to you."

At her side, Quail tensed. "...a friend of yours?" he whispered.

"Leska." Cressida began gently. "I am so sorry."

Leska's face darkened with a flash of anger. "Sorry won't bring back Arden's arm."

"I know." Cressida acknowledged. "But I am sorry regardless."

"You have no right to be sorry." She growled. "You have no right to be out here. You have no idea what you've done. Your stupid stunt yesterday cost a whole family their only source of income; Arden's sister is sick, and who hires a guard without an arm? I had to write his family just now." Cressida realized that Leska was clutching a letter in one of her hands. The other still clenched tightly around the hilt of her sword. "Do you even know?!"

"I don't..." Cressida breathed. "...that must have been painful."

"Painful isn't even half of it!" Leska exclaimed. "He was going to get married next month. My sister is going to be devastated. I just. And... on top of that, my...my king is gone. And C-crown prince Fe-" Leska's voice trailed off, as if she were fighting back a torrent of tears.

They stood there for another moment, just staring at each other.

"I'm going to haul you back." Leska said hoarsely, taking another step towards her, her body tensing to act. "If your prince knew you were out here, anyone around you would be in danger."

Cressida felt a brief flash of pain at Leska's choice of words. Cilla also called Callidus 'her prince'.

"Leska..." Cressida pleaded. "I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. But please, listen to me, Callidus-"

"Shut up!" Leska snarled. "Letting you try to talk your way out of it was what led to Arden's arm being crushed. I should have covered your mouth and dragged you back into the Guest wing the moment I saw you. I'm not making that same mistake twice."

Quail's body pressed against Cressida's side, a silent cautionary warning and Cressida's mind raced, realizing that reasoning with Leska would be impossible. The overwhelming anger and grief in Leska's eyes seemed impenetrable, making it clear that words alone would not soothe her pain.

Cressida's glanced behind her at the long empty corridor.

"You gonna run?" Leska rasped. "That should be fun. I'll catch at least one of you."

"...we're not going to run, Leska." Cressida said softly, although Quail sent her a puzzled, panicked look. "I know you'd catch us. You're much stronger and faster than both of us."

A flicker of confusion swept over Leska's face. "Don't try to manipulate me, Rust Stain."

"I'm not." Cressida held both her hands up in surrender, and Quail halfheartedly followed her lead.