Chapter 23
As I sat in my dim, musty cell, I waited for news. Good news, bad news, any news, with bated breath. I had been dragged across the halls like a common thief, like I had committed some grand sin. And now I was locked up.
It had been only a while since I was locked up, but I already got my first visitor. I could hear Rowan's voice from afar, arguing with the guards for them to let him see me. After a while, they relented and Rowan was brought to my cell.
As he stepped in the dark musty dungeon, he ran towards me.
"Have they been treating you well? How are you fairing?" he greeted anxiously, his voice a welcome respite from the harshness of my reality.
I managed a weak smile, grateful for his presence amidst the bleakness of my confinement. "Rowan," I murmured, my voice hoarse from disuse.
"What will I do now? When they discover that Lady Isabelle is dead, that will be the end for me."
I asked him.
He approached the bars, his expression pained. The guards had given us privacy and left.
"No. It won’t be the end for you. Whatever you do. Don't tell them what happened to Isabelle. If you do that there will be no going back."
He started and I shook my head.
"But what then will I say? What else will I do?"
"Do not say anything that will put you in further trouble. If you tell them that the real Isabelle is dead, they will have your head. They arrested you because they think you have a hand in her disappearance. Which means they know that you're not Lady Isabelle but they also don't know what happened to the real Lady Isabelle."
"I'm doing the best I can. But you know I do not have much influence here. But I will try to get you out. We will come up with a story and you shall stick to it."
I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. "I don't think that would work. Just leave me. Let me just die. If they want to punish me for what happened to her then let them do it and be done with it."
"No! I won't let you do that. I won't stand by and see you punished for a crime you have no hand in. It's preposterous!"
"Then what will I do?! They won't believe me if I tell them I know nothing."
Rowan's gaze softened, his resolve evident. "But I believe you, Ariadne. And I'll do everything in my power to help you."
Hope flickered within me at his words. "I don't know if this might help, but I'm not the only one who knows about Lady Isabelle's death," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "There were two guards who accompanied us. They were the ones who told me to pretend to be her to save myself. They said it would save us all from the Carstairs wrath after finding out. I don't know if you can find them..."
Rowan's eyes widened in realization. "It could help. They might be able to speak in your favour. I will make inquiries and try to find them."
"I will be back. I promise you. I'll be back very soon. But promise me that no matter what happens, you won't tell anyone what really happened with Isabelle."
I nodded my head.
If that would put me in an even worse situation, what use was mentioning it going to do?!
"I won't. I will keep my mouth shut."
"Good." He said.
"I will be back soon. I promise."
As he turned to leave, I reached out, grasping his hand through the cold iron bars. "Thank you, Rowan. Please come back soon. You know you are all I have here."
With a final squeeze, he bade me farewell, his footsteps fading into the distance.
.......
The cold stone walls of the cell pressed in on me, making it hard to breathe. The dim torch flickered, casting long shadows that dance around the room, almost as if mocking me. The door creaked open, and Bort, the royal investigator, strode in. His eyes, sharp and calculating, fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. I realised it was our second meeting. In les than a week too.
The first was when he was investigating Lark's death.
And now, Lady Isabelle's disappearance.
It seemed to me that I always found myself in th most precarious situations.
"If you are not Lady Isabelle, then who are you?" he demanded, his voice a blend of curiosity and accusation.
I remained silent, meeting his gaze with steady determination. I had no intention of divulging anything to this man. Nothing I would tell him would be useful to him, not even the truth.
Bort narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. "What have you done with the real Lady Isabelle?"
"I don't know," I replied evenly, keeping my voice calm and measured. It was the truth, after all. I had no idea where Lady Isabelle's body was. And I did nothing to her.
His frustration was palpable. He paced the small space before turning back to me. "Do you know how we discovered that you are not the real Lady Isabelle?"
Again, I said nothing. Rowan told me to keep quiet. To keep my mouth shut, it was the least I could do.
Revealing too much could be my downfall.
Bort stopped pacing, a smirk forming on his lips. "The royal concubine, Lady Elana had the privilege of meeting Lady Isabelle Carstairs years ago. She remembered her well— who would forget such beautiful golden hair and blue eyes, features that you do not possess."
I resisted the urge to react, maintaining my composed exterior. So it was the Royal Concubine then. Did that mean she recognised me?! I did not want to think of the implications if she did.
"Do you have any concrete reason to hold me in this cell?" I asked, my voice strong, cutting through the tension like a knife.
He blinked, clearly taken aback by my boldness. "Well, if you confess," he offered, "I will see to it that your sentence is reduced."
"Confess? I have nothing to confess to. All I can tell you is that I am innocent."
His face flushes with anger. The torch in his hand seemed to burn brighter for a moment, reflecting his rising temper. "Innocent?" he snarled. "Do you think me a fool?"
"I think you are a man trying to solve a puzzle with pieces that don't fit," I responded, my voice unwavering. "I have nothing to confess because I have committed no crime."
Bort's fury was almost tangible now, his fists clenching and unclenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "We will see how long your innocence lasts," he hissed, turning on his heel and marching out of the cell.
As the door slammed shut behind him, I let out a slow breath. The shadows resumed their dance, and I am left alone with my thoughts.
Was this the end?
I thought I was going to be happy. Waking up next to the Prince had made me happier than ever, it made me hope for a better life. And now those hopes were dashed again. It seemed the moon goddess didn't like to see me happy. Anytime I felt like I was touching happiness, it would get snatched from me and replaced with sadness and grief.
It was heartbreaking, but I felt myself getting used to the pain.
Maybe I was just never meant for such life.
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