Chapter 54

I had gone looking for the hero straight after. Determination rushed through my veins. And a sense of urgency kept me walking.

If I was correct, he should be in the gardens, but there was no way I could get in there unless I were a Gardner or with a noble. I stared at the beautiful thicket of gorgeous flowers that held me back from my answers.

I knew that if a servant is caught intruding a garden, better known as a haven for only those of noble blood, they would be hung. And that was the least of the punishments awaiting me.

But this voice, whispering in my ear, made me feel a sense of rebellion—a suppressed desire.

'You'll die a slave anyway. What does it matter if it's sooner rather than later?'

I stepped forward, feet mid-air and wary. I had always speculated that there might be a barrier keeping lesser people away. An invisible gate. A barbed wire, only visible to those it did no harm.

But nothing met my foot.

No wall I couldn't see. No spikes stabbed through my flesh. Nothing.

I took a deep breath and walked in. Quickly hiding behind the bushes as I crawled towards the higher walls of the garden.

At this time, people rarely went to the garden. So if you wanted privacy, now was the time for it. That means I shouldn't have too much trouble not getting caught.

I managed to get behind the more enormous walls of the garden before I heard footsteps near me.

"It doesn't seem reasonable that you can only be noble or accompanied by one to enter a fucking garden" it was that woman, the one with the hero.

I held my breath and moved behind a shrub. The sound of their footsteps neared me.

"Nobility has silly rules. Even I can barely handle them", the old man's voice, full of that same wisdom, drifted closer to my hiding spot.

"It is an archaic way of thinking. I liked the blonde kid, but it looks like he isn't that different at all!" The woman, Rosabel, continued complaining, and it took a lot of will not to expose myself to tell her not to speak so loudly.

"He is. That boy does not hold a speck of resemblance to his father. He may even have a chance on being an heir to the throne if he had higher ambitions", the old man's words soothed the rage of the woman.

They stopped walking, it seems, leaning against the wall behind me on the opposite side. I wasn't sure how well they could detect people, so I prayed they couldn't sense me.

"What even is his ambitions?"

"He wants no more than what he already has. I told him he'd make a fine king, but he said it was too much work for him".

"He must be lying".

"No. No matter how much I tried to get a read on him, he wasn't lying," the old man paused, voice becoming quieter, "his father's death on the other hand".

My eyes widened.

"You sure are convinced he did it. I believe he might've killed the Lemone girl but his father?"

I couldn't breathe.

"I can't tell if he's lying about it or not. But just because he can lie doesn't mean his people can".

"How can we be sure there were witnesses?" The woman, voice that of an unconvinced person, continued speaking. It seemed like she just wanted to humour the older man.

"No matter how I go over the story, I keep greeting the same results. The same motive. He didn't just kill her for the fun of it. He was protecting something".

I could barely feel my toes as my head started to feel lighter.

"Maybe it was self-defence?" Rosabel proposed.

"No. It doesn't make sense that she died because of self-defence. She's just a woman- a noblewoman!" The older man corrected with a cough.

"Ha… those noblewomen are the most vicious kind of women, old man", Rosabel said, "they're so accustomed to getting what they want; otherwise, they go all crazy".

Rosabel's words came from experience, it seemed, but they did nothing to calm the man's suspicions.

"I say we stay longer".

"At the expense of listening to Rick bitch about leaving?"

"Rosabel, you really must speak in a ladylike manner in the house of nobles", the old man scolded.

"Whatever".

They had begun to move again. They were passing by me before I had even noticed.

When I could no longer hear the retreating footsteps, I let out a breath. My head spun like crazy as I took in a deep breath.

I tried to calm myself. Holding down my arms that shook rapidly.

Should I tell Cain?

Maybe he can let me stay with Angela for a bit?

I knew I was a no-good liar, mainly because it was a conflicting situation.

I didn't want anything to happen to Cain, but I knew he was guilty.

The memory of Sarah's head flying, the blood splattering everywhere and all over me. Her eyes were wide and glaring.

I felt bile in my throat.

Then I thought of the sweet kisses I had shared with Cain, as he had held my head with the same hand that blew out Sarah's brains.

I pushed myself up, using the wall as my support.

I had to find the hero. I had to.

I looked to my right to look at my surroundings and jumped.

He was right there. He was staring down at me from his towering height. Those purple eyes scrutinizing me and his lips pulled in a suspicious frown.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a clear, crisp voice.

I hiccuped in return. Eyes wide in fear. Legs shaking and ready to drop my body at any moment.

He smiled at the hiccup and chuckled.

"So-Sorry- I was- I was" I could barely form a sentence, but he patiently waited for an answer, "I was looking for you". I finally managed to confess.

"For me? Might I ask why?" He stepped back, allowing the sun to hit me.

I tried to keep it together. I tried.

The bile I had desperately attempted to keep down just shot up and out of my mouth. I managed to turn around before it could hit the hero.

"Woah", he exclaimed and quickly started patting my back.

My cheeks burned, along with my eyes. The humiliation of it all was killing me.

I had just thrown up in front of a celebrity.

Once I was done, he handed me a towel, and with a flick of his finger, the vomit was gone. He continued patting my back.

"I'm so sorry", I choked out when I was done cleaning myself up.

"It's alright. I've faced more nauseating sights" he meant it as a joke, but it only made me feel worse, "are you sure you don't want to get somewhere more comfortable?" He asked while noticing my trembling lips ready to speak.

I shook my head.

"I have to ask this soon because I don't have much time", I gripped the fabric of my dress, hoping to distract my nerves, "I - I know Diana- the woman you were asking about".

His face shifted as he stared down at me. I could see a strange fall in his gaze as if he thought something he wished wasn't true.

"How- How do you know her?" He asked, straightening up and stepping back. He was beginning to look nervous and slightly uncomfortable.

"I have been working here for a while, so I was friends with her" it was a lie. A bad one. I must've looked ridiculous trying to pass us off as friends when I was clearly much younger.

He looked as skeptical as I thought. But for that moment he just continued speaking.

"I was sorry to hear about her passing. We… were close" he cleared his throat, eyes moist.

"I was a friend of hers, but she never mentioned you", I continued, hoping to get something- anything.

"I don't suppose she would. I promised her I'd return soon, but the war kept me. For so much longer than I thought", his jaw tightened, "I'm very sorry, but… I - " he stopped speaking and looked down at me.

I stared up at those purple eyes that saw something in me that I couldn't.

"If- If you feel uncomfortable"-

"It's not that". He cut me off sharply. Face suddenly serious.

"Then?"-

"How do you really know Diana?" His words were no longer soft. He demanded answers. The gaze in his eyes made me very aware that he didn't want any more lies.

I gulped at the intimidating length of him. He was a monster. He could kill me with one wrong breath.

I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure what he'd say, and I wanted to be at least taken seriously. I thought I'd be treated better if I were her friend rather than just a child. An abandoned offspring.

But I knew I had no choice. That I was backed into this corner and I didn't want to die.

I wanted to snort at my earlier rebellion but swallowed it as I spoke.

"Diana Thomas is my mother".