“I insist.” Miles’ eyes held no hint of friendliness and Mena felt Ralph step closer to her.
Miash moved around them and started them down the hall.
He led them into another room, and Mena barely had time to register where she was before she heard a grunt and turned to witness Ralph hit the floor and Miash closing the door behind them.
Mena opened her mouth to scream, but Miash was there instantly and covered her mouth. His other hand went behind her hand and then he was walking her backward. He moved the hand at the back of her head away just as she landed hard against the wall, jarring her mind and causing a shot of pain up her spine.
“Scream for your other guards, and I will strangle you. Who are you?” Miash asked. “Who sent you?”
Mena began to weep. She’d given herself away, given him the knowledge that she knew who he was, and now she was going to die. Would he stab her? She hoped not.
He shook her hard and asked, “Why are you here? What is your mission?”
She had no idea what he was talking about. “No one sent me,” she managed to get out through her tears.
“Do you know Creed?” he asked.
Her eyes widened, and she stilled. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words came out, but she saw the moment when he knew the answer to his own question.
“He sent you,” Miash said. Then he shook his head. “He should have sent someone smarter.”
The insult did nothing as fear overruled everything else. Creed had not sent her to kill him, but that thought did remind her of the dagger on her thigh. She kept it there just as she promised she would.
She swallowed, knowing she’d never get to it with him so close to her. Still, she tried.
She lifted her leg, her skirts rubbing his pants leg.
His eyes drifted down before looking her in the eye again and as if possible, they narrowed further. “You think you can seduce your way out of this? Manipulate me into letting you go? It won’t happen. I want answers.”
Seduce? She had no desire to seduce this man at all and she hadn’t thought to try and manipulate him… until now.
It took her a moment to recall how to do so. She tried to conquer her fear, licking her lips before she tilted her head slightly and batted her eyes. “Please. I mean you no harm.” She placed her hands on his chest to keep him back but now slowly moved them to his sides and down to his hip. She lifted her leg closer to her hand but dared not look as she moved to her skirts. She kept her eyes trained on him. “Please.”
He frowned and grunted. “Do you truly believe you’d have gotten away with it?”
She lifted a brow, her fingers now touching her skirts. “Away with what?” She gasped as he grabbed her bottom and lifted her before dropping her on the bed, making her realize they were in a bedchamber before he started to lean away.
His blue eyes were not gentle. “You’ll tell me everything you know one way or another.”
Those words could mean anything, but since he was backing away, she knew he didn’t mean to force himself on her. She thought that good. Still, she needed him close if she was going to pull the dagger out and him not see it.
So, she boldly wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him back down, surprised when he allowed it.
His eyes roamed her face and a crease formed in his brows. “Have you ever done this before?”
She didn’t want to ask him what he meant by ‘this’, but that didn’t matter because she’d never done any of it. “What?” Her hand was around the dagger now, and she moved slowly to pull the dress up.
He shook his head and pity made him thin his lips. “You’re an innocent.” His eyes looked her over again and he said, “I don’t know how a man like Creed got to you, but if circumstances were different, this could have ended differently.”
She believed she knew what that meant, still she concentrated more on the dagger.
He continued to speak and now did with soft eyes. She remembered then just how handsome he was. “Tell me what I wish to know and perhaps I can help you.”
“Help me?” she asked. He wanted to help her?
He was the criminal. He was the one who’d killed people. She kept that in mind as she lifted the dagger out of its sheath.
“Lady Philomena—”
A knock sounded on the door, and Miash turned to it.
Mena took that opportunity to strike, but at the last minute, she decided she couldn’t kill him. Instead, she focused the handle on the blade at the back of his neck and used all the force she had to come down on him.
He grunted and fell onto her, his body going still and weighing heavy on her.
The door opened, and she was glad to see her guards and the large footman come in. They moved toward her, picked up Miash, and placed him on the other side of the bed before they smiled at her.
“Excellent work, my lady,” one of the men said before turning to another. “I believe I owe you money, Luke.”
Luke laughed, and Mena stilled as he began to strip out of his black coat. A red one lay under it in the same cut as the one Miash wore. “And can you believe it, Thomas?” Luke asked. “Creed lacked faith in her.” He shook his head before turning to the last man. “John, hurry up. We’ve got to do this quickly.”
“I’m almost ready,” John said. Then he looked down at Mena and said, “If I were you, miss, I’d either kill Miash or run. Once the princess is dead, they’ll come looking for you if Miash talks and with him being the princess’ guard, they’ll believe him more than anything you can say.”
Mena froze, and her throat closed. “What? What about the stabbings?”
“Creed will tell the men to cease once the princess is gone,” Thomas told her. Then he winked.
“What should we do with him?” Thomas kicked Ralph.
“Leave him.” Luke went to the door. “We need to move quickly.”
The men left. Mena sat on the bed and tried to understand what had just happened.
And then everything started to make sense.
Miash didn’t cause the stabbings. Creed did, and he’d told her Miash had done so to cause her to act in fear once she saw the man.
And she had.
She’d almost killed an innocent man.
And Creed had set her up to do it. It was why she’d met the princess. He’d used her.
Bile rose in her mouth, but she pushed it aside as she tried to think of what to do.
She looked at the dagger in her hand and knew she only had one choice. She’d caused this and now she would have to right it.
Or die trying.
* * *
32
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
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He turned and there she was.
* * *
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Morgan arrived at the palace to find it in chaos. He had to repeat his name several times and spoke to the guard in charge before he was let in. The butler walked him down the hall through a foyer that was filled to the brim with soldiers and dread filled him, images of what Creed had done… or what he’d made Mena do.