The Princess's Servant

70. The Way Out

By the time her second visitor arrived, Sybil was fast asleep.

"Sybil."

She heard her name whispered in the dark.

She heard it again. "Sybil." She peeked her eyes open.

Above her was the darkened face of her former servant, Holden. The Prince Holden, Sybil remembered. And she watched the candlelight dance on the curves of his face, until she was certain that this was a nightmare. She closed her eyes again.

Holden exhaled and knelt at her side. "Wake up," he said. "It's me." And he dared to jostle her arm a little.

The princess groaned at this movement and tried to move away from him. But her thoughts continued to trudge through the thick fog of sleep, and eventually it clicked that nightmares could not move you. Sybil shot up in a panic.

"Guards!" She called, sitting up in the cell. "Come quick! There's a strange man in my—"

Holden shoved a hand over her mouth. "Shut up!" He said, and he glanced around to ensure that no one had heard her — that they were still alone.

There was silence in the dungeon, and no guards rushed to the princess's rescue. Holden relaxed.

Sybil, however, did not. In his efforts to silence her, Holden had pinned her halfheartedly to the floor. The princess stared up at him with a heat in her eyes that promised more violence than any string of curses could have done. Holden already knew what came next.

He felt his legs kick out from beneath him, one after the other. And then he was rolling, tumbling onto his back as his own flesh pressed into that cold concrete. Sybil landed on top of him, squarely on his chest in a position that was all too familiar for him. She pressed his shoulders into the ground with all her weight and stared at him with that fury — that fire that always led to pain.

Holden flipped his palms up in surrender and froze under her grasp. Maybe if he stayed very still, she would lose interest.

The princess stared down at him for a moment, and for a moment, Holden feared that she might do something terrible. But when she pressed down on his body even more, it was — to Holden's great surprise — to get off of him rather than to harm him further.

"Ugh!" She shoved off of him and stood. "Get out of my cell, Wardian! ... Holden... Whoever you are! Leave me alone!"

Holden got to his feet and brushed the back of his pants free of dirt. "I'm here to help you," he told her.

"Uh-uh. You got me into this mess. You don't get to save me from you!"

"I got you into this mess?" He almost laughed. "You are just..." He was too stunned to find the words. "I told you from day one exactly what my plans were."

"Well you should have told me you were the prince!"

"You would have hurt me more!" He replied.

"Well maybe I wish I had!"

Silence. Holden stared at Sybil and he took in a deep, shaking breath. Sybil stared back at him like a wounded wolf.

"Do you want my brother to kill you?" Holden had to ask.

She bared her teeth at him and turned. "Who cares what I want? The Supreme Reigning Emperor of Ward has said I am to hang, and so I'll hang. So if you don't mind, I'd like to spend my last few hours on this Earth in peace."

The prince bit back a groan. "Sybil..."

"In peace, Wardian!"

The prince released his groan and turned his back on her. Perhaps he should. Perhaps he should walk right out that door and never come back. This was all fair and legal, wasn't it? And after all, Sybil was even saying it's what she wanted. Holden stared at the door to the cell and felt the weight of the key he stole off the guard in his pocket.