The King's War

17. Over

AVERY

I kept replaying my conversation with Chase over the next few days I'd been held captive. That if Nate had not appeared at my house three weeks ago, and if I hadn't taken him back, I wouldn't be in this situation. He'd clearly been trying to rile me up, but I couldn't help but think he was right.

This was what I'd been afraid of all along — that being with Nate put me in danger. It was why I asked to be eliminated from the competition. But after I left, I felt like a piece of myself remained behind at Rosethorne Hall. I'd felt lost and empty, unsure if the pain would ever fade. So when Nate appeared on my doorstep, asking me to be with him, I was so overcome with love that I'd agreed. Now I couldn't help but wonder if that love was worth my life.

How was Nate feeling right now? He must have found out about my disappearance already. He'd undoubtedly contacted my parents after Travis and I couldn't be reached. He must be worried senseless, and pooling all of his resources to try to find me. But how could he succeed, when he had a Duke of New York-shaped blind spot in his vision?

The rebels had a lot going for them, and the Duke Balthazar Hale was likely their best asset. If Nate trusted him so completely that he'd never suspect him of treachery, it was possible that he wouldn't best the rebels. We'd never see each other again.

The only one I could truly rely on was myself. But I was completely powerless. I couldn't fight. I couldn't sweet talk my captors into extra privileges and try to make a run for it when they weren't looking. Lydia may have called me her friend, but it was clear she'd never jeopardize her cause. And Rowan, well, I wouldn't be stuck here if not for him.

Rowan would show up now and then to guard my cell, along with Lydia and two others I didn't recognize. I only saw Chase and his taunting smirk briefly since the time I first woke up here, when he'd come to check up on how the operation was doing. I was grateful for every minute I spent apart from him.

The Duke had yet to make an appearance, but another rebel higher up had briefly paid the place a visit — a pale brunette who seemed unusually young to be in charge. At least, I thought she was a higher up, judging by how nervous her presence made everyone. She never spoke a word to me or anyone else, only making a slow, measured survey of the grounds and departing just as silently.

There was nothing to do but think and worry. I began to look forward to mealtimes because it was a break from the monotony of sitting in my cramped, sterile room and worrying myself to tears. The guards brought food to me twice a day — awful, frozen dinners they'd heat up in the microwave. I didn't try to protest by starving myself. It would accomplish nothing but weaken my body and make me more miserable than I already was.

It was Rowan's shift, and he came into the cell carrying a blue plastic tray of what looked like mashed potatoes, peas, and a piece of stake slathered in barbecue sauce. He set it down on the small fold-out table by the cot, but instead of leaving and locking the door, he waited.

I looked between him and the tray. "Are you just gonna stand there and watch me eat?"

He didn't answer, so I just shrugged and picked up the plastic spork, using it to stir the chunky glop of mashed potatoes. I'd gotten spoiled by the fancy food I was served during the competition and the expensive restaurants Nate would take me out to.

I felt Rowan's gaze burning into me as I ate. What the hell was he doing here? Was this some new protocol? Did they not trust me with plastic sporks anymore, thinking I'd sneak one away and whittle it down into a shank, like in the movies?

"So, does your family know you're doing this or do they just not care where your money comes from?" I asked, thinking I could goad him into leaving me alone. That, or accidentally divulging some of the rebels' plans. Not that the latter could do me any good in my position.