When she found Joshua’s face, he was blinking his eyes open. Two glazed, emerald disks that searched the room as if unseeing.
“What…” He coughed and grimaced, the peaceful rest gone from his features. “Where…?”
He tried to prop himself up on his elbows and failed, ungracefully plunging back into the silver-threaded pillows.
Eyes slowly focusing, he glanced to where Addie had shrunk back into her chair, praying to Vala he wouldn’t attack her.
“You…” He lifted a hand and reached for her, making Addie almost topple over with the chair. But the look in his eyes changed to that haunted gaze he’d given her when he had pleaded for her help.
“There are guards outside,” she said, a promise that if he as much as lifted a finger against her, she’d scream for them.
He rolled to the side, groaning through gritted teeth until he was half sitting up. “Help me,” he whispered and grabbed her hand with what seemed to be agonizing effort.
There was no aggression in his eyes, nothing of the man Gandrett had been so afraid of but fear. Authentic, deep-rooted fear.
Addie’s heart pounded in her chest, threatening to break her ribs. The words were there on her tongue. I can’t. But she had spoken them before, and she could not face herself another minute if she repeated that mistake.
“What are you so afraid of?” The words came out in a mutter, hardly seeing the light of day, but it was enough to let Joshua Brenheran rest his back against the sofa and exhale a stuck breath.
“Where are we?” He searched the room for details, and when his eyes fell on a portrait of the young lord with his mother hung near the secret door, he found his answer. “Armand Denderlain’s rooms?” His face was incredulous. “What am I doing in Armand Denderlain’s rooms?”
Addie heaved a breath, finding that if she wanted to do it right this time, she had to get answers. And in order to get answers, sometimes you had to offer some truth yourself.
“We found you in the dungeons,” she said and smoothed out her rags over her thigh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn real clothes. “I am not certain what happened exactly, but you were injured.” It was the truth. Other than that Gandrett had been locked in that cell earlier and both of them had been in really bad shape when she and Armand had gotten to them, there was hardly a detail she knew, other than, “Is it true you locked Gandrett in the dungeons?”
Joshua’s eyes tightened with realization. A realization he seemed to not particularly enjoy. “So that’s her name?” He reached to his side, to the now-empty spot at his sword belt, and Addie glanced to the secret passageway, debating whether to call Armand now or wait until she had gotten something of worth from Joshua.
“Who else knows I’m here?” he asked, gaze suddenly full of fear again.
Addie leaned forward a tad, trying to read the depths of his eyes. What was going on in his mind? Why beg for help then lock up a defenseless lady?
“Just the young lord, Gandrett, and I.”
The expression on his face didn’t relax. “He’s not going to tell her, is he?”
“Who?”
“Armand,” he clarified. “Tell my mother.”
Addie scratched her temple as she tried to understand how the young lord would be able to inform Lady Crystal Brenheran of anything.
“You’re aware I am a servant in this house and I don’t have communication privileges with the outside world,” she merely said.
Joshua’s eyes did that thing with the realization again. “Not Lady Brenheran,” he whispered. “My mother—Linniue Denderlain.”
Addie’s heart stuttered to a sudden halt.
“It’s a secret,” he said through gritted teeth as he pushed himself forward and rested his elbows on his knees, face oddly close to Addie’s. “No one knows but Linniue and Armand. Even Lord Hamyn is oblivious of my Denderlain blood.” He spat the words as if it was a stain on his soul.
The fear in his eyes was still there, so Addie repeated, “What are you so afraid of?”
He reached for her hand and clutched it as if she was a lifeline. Addie didn’t dare pull it back as she studied the scabbed knuckles. It wasn’t a fresh injury. “It’s happening over and over again. I lose control over my mind, my body. Almost as if someone else were commanding my actions.”
Addie saw the conflict flash across his features, his eyes turning a shade darker with the pain of his story.
“When that girl—Gandrett—” He coughed again from the strain of sitting up. “When she followed me into the depths of the north tower, I was compelled to get rid of her.” Shame filled his features, and he slowly shook his head then cursed at the pain it caused him. “As I am compelled to get rid of anyone who finds out about me.”
Addie realized it might be time to call for aid, for everything he was telling her now meant he’d need to rid himself of her later.
His hand tightened around hers as he read the fear in her eyes. “No, please,” he murmured. “Please, don’t run from me.” His voice was soft, soothing. “Who else can I trust in this castle but someone who has nothing to gain from my presence?”
His words stung and comforted her at the same time.
“When I asked you for help last time, I had one of those rare moments of clarity when I am in charge of my own mind and thoughts. Why do you think I did anything to avoid crossing your path afterward?”
Addie didn’t have an answer. All she could do was stare at those emerald eyes as they helplessly searched hers for answers.
“I wanted to spare you so if I ever got a moment like that again, you would still be around, so I could convince you to help me.” He loosened his grasp on her hand as if intending to let go but lingered. “I didn’t let myself think about our encounter. I convinced myself you didn’t exist, that it had been a dream. All of it so once I was back under that spell—whatever it is—I wouldn’t sell you out to myself.” He searched for words. “That I wouldn’t sell you out to that version of myself that seems compelled to stay at this castle and keep my identity hidden, no matter the cost.”
Addie slowly withdrew her hand and sorted her thoughts. “And now, you are having one of those rare moments?” she simply asked.
There was nothing between them but the raw words spoken. He didn’t look at her as the servant she was, and she didn’t see a noble but a man in need of help. A man who was about to break apart from the fear of losing control over his own self.
“Now is one of those rare moments.” His eyes shone with gratitude for merely hearing him out, for not trying to run, for not calling for guards.
“And in the cells?” Addie’s voice shook with tension.
“Compelled to kill her. I didn’t kill her the first time I had the chance.” He glanced at the scabbed knuckles of the hand that had released hers. “It was all I could do to keep in control, rather hurt myself than kill her. And I managed to convince my compelled self that locking her up to kill her later was acceptable.”
Horror filled his features as he looked into the past. Addie didn’t dare interrupt.
“If she hadn’t stopped me…” His voice trailed away.