A Heart Divided

Chapter 15

A Web of Lies

Eliza's heart thundered in her chest as the sounds of chaos raged above. The heavy thud of boots across the deck, the clash of steel, and the frantic shouts of men filled the air, but all she could focus on was the cold, damp wooden floor beneath her as she crouched in the small compartment with Alden.

Her hand trembled in his, and she squeezed it tighter, trying to find some anchor in the overwhelming panic. The muffled sounds of conflict above them grew louder, and she felt her breath hitch as a burst of shouting broke through the silence of the hold.

Alden's face was a mask of calm, but his jaw was tight, and his eyes flicked constantly to the narrow opening that led back up to the main deck. He was listening. Waiting.

"Don't make a sound," he whispered. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, a warning that she couldn't ignore.

Eliza nodded, her throat dry. She had never felt so helpless in her life. Every instinct screamed for her to do something, anything—to fight, to run, to find some way to fix this—but in the dark silence of the hold, all she could do was wait.

Suddenly, the creaking of wood and the rustling of fabric above them stopped. The silence that followed was almost worse than the noise—everything felt still, too still, as if they were teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Alden's grip on her hand tightened. His eyes, dark with fear and determination, met hers. "It's too quiet. Something's wrong."

Before Eliza could respond, a voice called out from above. It was calm, calculated—a voice that sent a chill down her spine.

"Is she here?" The voice belonged to a man she didn't recognize, smooth but commanding. It wasn't one of the soldiers from Aramore. No—this was someone else.

Alden stiffened, his fingers digging into her hand. "Stay down," he muttered. He edged toward the small crack in the wood where they could see the goings-on above them.

Eliza barely dared to breathe as she watched through the sliver in the wood. A figure stood on the deck, tall and imposing, his eyes scanning the ship as though he owned it. His coat was rich, the dark fabric embroidered with gold thread. He was a man of wealth and power—and someone who knew what he wanted.

Kellen stood nearby, his expression unreadable as the figure surveyed the ship.

"Where is she, Kellen?" the man asked again, his voice icy.

Kellen's jaw clenched, but he gave a stiff bow, as if surrendering to the man's authority. "I don't know, Your Grace. I'm sure she's still on board. We'll find her."

The title—the honorific that accompanied it—sent a jolt of recognition through Eliza. Your Grace. That wasn't just any nobleman. That was Prince Edward, the man Eliza's father had once considered a suitor for her. The man she had been promised to before she had chosen Alden.

But why was he here, on this ship?

Eliza's stomach churned as she realized the terrible truth. Kellen hadn't just betrayed them. He had been working with Prince Edward all along. The plot was far more complicated than she had imagined.

"Search the entire ship," Prince Edward ordered coldly, his eyes glinting with dark determination. "We won't let her escape. Not this time."