The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Thirty One

The lock clicks softly and a winning smile spreads across my lips.

Music thunders through the floors, the stone trembling with drums and strings, with the echoes of stomping feet. Laughter rings out, high and shrill, chasing the perfume of spiced wine and roasted meats that drift up even here. There is a drunken joy in the air.

It is, after all, a night I thought existed only in fairytales and dreams. And only the most perfect distraction.

Sam and Nath abandoned their watch by my door hours ago, the revelry below much too hard to resist. They all but left one guard, Orlo, with the strict warning; "Do not speak to the prisoner. Do not look away from him for even a second. If he escapes, your life will be forfeit."

However, as the music grew louder, the tapping of Orlo’s feet felt more urgent. I’d feigned sleep, slouching over books I couldn’t read and I could almost hear his thoughts as he watched me through the bars.

"It’ll just be for a few minutes. They’ll never know. Why do they get to attend the Selection and I do not?"

I push the barred door slowly, wincing at the loud creak. My heart kicks hard in my chest as I slip into the hall. Empty. Blessedly empty.

Drawing the bejeweled butter knife I’d stolen from the King’s chambers earlier, I thread stealthily down dimly lit hallways, torches burning low in their scones and casting shadows on the walls.

The music leads me down the winding stair. Louder, brighter, warmer. When I reach the great hall, the noise crashes over me all at once.

The castle is overflowing. Nobles in brocade and velvet raise jeweled goblets, spilling wine as they laugh. Maidens twirl in gowns of emerald and gold, skirts flaring like blossoms in the torchlight. Courtiers crowd together, whispering, speculating which powerful house the King will honor with his choice. Some dance, some toast, others sit tight with sharpened smiles, hungry for their family’s chance to rise.

I stare with a sense of detachment at the vanity of it all. The gold that lines their clothings. The precious stones that flicker every now and then. The obscene wealth wasted on pretense, like there wasn’t more to the world than a stupid showcase. Like people weren’t burying their dead. Like the war didn’t happen.

Or maybe this is the point of it all. To distract the people from death. To bring joy to Ebonheart after a terrible loss.

My lips curl with disgust, hands clenched tight around the knife, but I force myself to move. I may never get another chance like this. I may not be able to flee, but there are others I can grant the chance to.

Those below, in the dungeons, waiting to be used as target practice for a spoiled, entitled, moody King.

No one notices me slip along the wall, just another shadow darting past. Trying to find my way around the ruckus without being discovered by the guards is harder than I’d imagined it should be. After a while of walking and I walk beside a woman in a yellow dress, blushing hard at the comments of a young lord she’s taken in by, I know I’m lost.

Did the stairwell in the third wing lead to the dungeons? Or was it the first?

Hell. I should have been paying more attention than day.

Anxiety grips at my skin as the crowd begins to move, taking me along with them. Trying to elbow my way past is futile as I am knocked down a peg and nearly trampled over by excited gossips with enough powder plastered on their faces to trigger a sneeze from me.

"It’s time!" a voice squeals.

"You think Soraya Vaelthorn might present?"

"It hardly matters. These alliances are premeditated, choices made based off of strength. And the most powerful house after Draemont is Blackspire. It is an inevitable match. Lilith is the most likely choice."

"I wouldn’t be so sure. King Lucien has never been a predictable one and it’d not be the first time he laughs in the face of the Council and pulls something completely unexpected."

A snort. "Or perhaps, Princess Evadne might suffice? They’ve been thick as thieves since they were children."

"They’re cousins, Elara!"

"When has that ever stopped us before? You do not think the first King’s children bedded each other to breed and multiply?"

I think I’m going to be sick.

The gigantic red doors of the Great Hall welcomes us like angel wings. There is a crowd of thousands, but the Hall is built large enough to encompass an entire city. My heart gets trapped in my throat as I note the guards lining the walls. There are dozens of them. I look up. Archers line the ceilings as well. A security protocol for this amount of guests.

I can’t be here.

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