Sophie's POV

Time in the dark does not move like it does in the light.

In the palace prison time is measured by the dripping of water. From a cracked ceiling. And the agonizing pulse of pain in my back.

I sat in that cold cell for three days. It was the longest three days of my life.

The floor was cold. It leached the warmth from my body till my bones felt like ice. My stomach had stopped growling. Now it was simply an aching void that made my head light. And my vision swim.

The darkness was not silent. It was filled with the ghosts of my own mind. And the very real torment of Queen Mother Isolde.

She visited me twice a day. Each time the heavy iron door groaned open. She didn't come to talk. She came to break me.

"Tell me the truth girl." She would hiss.

Her shadow stretching long across the cell wall.

"Tell me what poison you slipped into the food. Tell me who paid you. Was it the Northern clans?"

I would shake my head.

My voice a dry rasp.

"I didn't... poison him. I only cooked."

Then would come the strike.

Sometimes it was a lash across my shoulders. Reopening the wounds that had started to scab over in the humid air.

Sometimes it was a bucket of freezing water. Leaving me shivering and gasping on the floor.

She called it "cleansing the lies." But there were no lies to cleanse. I knew nothing. I was a chef who had been traded like a commodity. Now being slaughtered like a scapegoat.

In the long lonely hours between her visits. I thought of Alaric. My heart ached more than my body. Anytime his image surfaced in my mind.

I wondered if he was starving himself. I wondered if the wolf inside him was tearing him apart. He always want to protect me. I could feel his presence through the stone walls. A distant radiating heat.

I had begged him to stay his hand. To not become a murderer for my sake. If he killed Isolde. The kingdom would descend into a civil war that would burn everything we had built.

I had to believe my sacrifice. This waiting. This suffering was holding the peace together.

But as the third night bled into the fourth morning. My resolve was fraying like an old rope.

To keep my sanity. I picked up a small stick. I started drawing on the dusty floor. I didn't draw recipes or trophies. I drew the market. I drew the bronze vine clasp Alaric had pressed into my hand.

I drew the face of my father. His eyes crinkled with a smile. A smile I feared I would never see again. The act of creation was the only thing that kept me from drifting into the abyss of despair.

Suddenly the stillness of the dungeon was shattered. I heard a heavy rhythmic clanking. It wasn't the light hurried footsteps of Isolde.

It was the sound of many guards. Their armor jingling. Their boots striking the stone in unison.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Was this the end? Had the Prince died?

I squeezed my eyes shut. I prayed. I hoped Alaric wasn't behind this. I hoped he hadn't lost his mind and stormed the depths.

He listens to me. I had to believe he was still honoring my plea for restraint.

The iron bars groaned. A heavy key turned in the lock. The door swung open with a shriek of rusted metal.

I blinked against the sudden glare of multiple torches.

When my vision cleared. I didn't see Alaric. It wasn't Isolde. Standing at the entrance dressed in robes. Of royal gold and white that seemed to glow. It was the Grand Queen Mother.

The matriarch of the Blackwood lineage. The woman who held more power in her pinky finger than most kings held in their entire armies.

I bowed immediately. Or as much as my chains and my weakened state would allow.

My forehead touched the cold stone. The clanking guards stood in a semi-circle behind her. Their faces obscured by the shadows of their helms.

It appeared she had exerted her authority to collect the cell keys from Queen Mother Isolde.

The Grand Queen Mother did not speak at first. She walked into the center of the cell. Her silk skirts packing the dirt.

She looked at the drawings I made on the floor. Then she reached down. She didn't mind the filth. She placed her gloved hand under my chin. She forced me to look her in the eyes. Her gaze was sharp. Ancient. And terrifying.

"You look like a creature of the earth now Sophie." She said.

Her voice surprisingly melodic.

"Not the bright girl who served the Alpha his tea."

"Your Majesty." I whispered.

"Tell me." She said.

Her grip tightening slightly.

"Do you know what is happening to the Young Prince? Do you know why his breath fails and his skin turns the color of a bruised plum?"

I looked into those eyes. I refused to blink despite the tears of pain that threatened to fall.

"I have no idea Your Majesty. I cooked for him with love. I tasted every bite. If there is a something in his blood it did not come from my kitchen."

She stared at me for a long agonizing minute. The guards remained as silent as statues. I felt as though she were reading the very map of my soul.

"I believe you." She said softly.

The breath I had been holding escaped me. It was a shuddering sob. But the relief was short-lived.

She stood up. She reached into the folds of her golden robes. She brought out a small silver dagger. The blade was slender.

She bent down again. Her face inches from mine.

"I will release you from this prison Sophie. I will unlock these chains. I will let you walk freely."

"Thank you." I breathed.

With hope surging through me like a ghost.

"Do not thank me yet." She interrupted.

"I release you on one condition. You have three days. In three days you must find out the truth. The truth of what happened to the Young Prince. You either find the cure. Or you find the culprit."

She took my hand. She pressed the silver dagger into my palm. My fingers curled around it instinctively.

"If you cannot find the truth after those three days." She continued.

Her voice turning as cold as the steel.

"You will use this blade. Do not wait for any of the guards. Do not wait for the judgement of the executioner. If you fail to save the Prince. You must save your own honor by ending your life."

I stared at the dagger. It weight felt like a mountain. She was giving me freedom. But this freedom was tied to a death sentence.

"You are free to go." She said.

She signaled the guards. A gesture that showed they should unshackle my ankles.

I stood up. My legs shaking so violently I nearly fell. I looked at the Grand Queen Mother. Then at the silver blade in my hand.

I walked out of the prison cell. My heart heavy with a terrifying realization.

I was given a second chance. But my life was now on the line. For a mystery I did not understand.

I was walking out of a prison of stone. But into a prison of time.

Sophie POV

I walked away from the prison. My legs felt like lead. The silver dagger sat heavy in my pocket.

I reached my quarters. The air smelled of stale dust. I stripped off my torn clothes. I washed the grime and dried blood from my skin.

The warm water stung my wounds. I dried myself. I chose a new outfit. It was the blue silk Alaric bought at the market. I touched the fabric. I remembered the way he caught me when I fell. He looked at me with soft eyes.

A sharp thought interrupted my memory. The Grand Queen Mother gave me a deadline. Three days. My time started now. I could not waste a minute.

I headed to the royal kitchen. The stone floor felt solid under my boots. I pushed the heavy doors open. The heat hit my face.

Martha saw me first. She dropped her wooden spoon. She ran to me. The other chefs followed. They hugged me. They cried.

"Sophie! You are alive!" Martha cried.

She squeezed my shoulders.

"Who released you from that hole? Did the King finally break the door down? Did they find the real culprit who hurt the boy?"

"The Grand Queen Mother released me." I said. My voice was raspy.

"The Grand Queen Mother?" Martha asked.

She stepped back. She looked frightened.

"She never interferes. What did she say to you? What is really wrong with the young prince? The servants say his skin is turning blue. They say he finds it hard to breathe."

"I will explain everything to you later Martha." I said.

I looked around the kitchen. Everything looked the same. But I felt different.

"I have a task to finish. I need to know about Alaric. Where is he?"

Elspeth stepped forward from the pantry. She looked tired. Her eyes were red. She wiped her hands on her apron. She looked at me with pity.

"The King has not eaten in days." Elspeth said.

"He rejected every tray we sent. He sent back the morning eggs. He sent back the roasted lamb. He sent back the night wine. He told us he would rather starve."

My heart tightened.

"He is starving himself for me." I whispered quietly.

"Since you are out now he might consider eating something." Elspeth said.

"He only listens to you. They said he nearly killed his Step Mother because of you."

"We must prepare a restoration meal." I said. I ignored what she had said.

"He needs to regain his strength immediately. He cannot help me if he cannot stand."

I moved to the prep table.

I gathered ingredients. I chose a deep clay pot. I poured in a quart of clean spring water. I added three large beef marrow bones. I chopped two stalks of wild celery. I added a handful of bitter herbs.

"Add the honey now." I told Martha.

I stirred in two large spoonfuls of raw honey. I added a pinch of sea salt to balance his fluids.

I let the broth simmer until it turned a rich gold color. I added two egg yolks at the very end.

We finished the food. The broth smelled of salt and sweet herbs. I placed it on a silver tray. I walked to the Alpha's chamber. Martha and Elspeth followed me.

Guards stood at the door. They looked surprised to see me. I nodded to them.

Elspeth knocked on the thick wood.

"Your Majesty your morning meal is ready." She said.

"I thought I told you I am not interested in eating any food!" Alaric growled from inside.

His voice sounded thin. It sounded cracked.

"You promised me you would not starve yourself." I said.

The silence lasted one second. Then I heard a heavy weight hitting the floor. He was running. The floor shook. The locks clicked fast. The door flew open.

Alaric stood there. He looked thin. His face was pale. His eyes were dark and sunken. He grabbed my hand. He dragged me past the door. He did not use force. He was desperate.

He pulled me into his arms. He hugged me so tight I could not breathe. He kissed me. The kiss felt like fire and relief. I heard the chefs gasp in the hall. I heard the guards shift their feet.

I realized the truth then. A tyrant is now in love with me. He is the King of Blackwood. It will be very hard for him to let me leave this place.

I looked at Alaric. My three days were ticking away. I had a king to feed and a prince to save.

Alaric POV

I sat in the dark for three days. I refused to attend to any palace duty. I refused to eat.

The walls of my chamber felt like a cage. I blamed myself for every minute Sophie spent in that hole.

I should have seen the trap. I should have protected her from Isolde. I accepted the dinner invitation and let the woman who brings me peace fall into a pit of vipers.

I stayed in the shadows and counted the seconds.

A knock hit the wood of my door. It interrupted my dark thoughts.

"Your Majesty, your morning meal is ready." Elspeth said. Her voice sounded small.

"I thought I told you I am not interested in eating anything!" I replied in anger.

I felt a surge of fury. This woman had the guts to talk about food while Sophie suffered in a cell.

The irony was a blade in my gut. I wanted to roar at the walls. Then a soothing voice cut through my rage.

"You promised me you would not starve yourself." The voice said.

My heart skipped. The sound was impossible. I froze in my room. I didn't know if my ears deceived me. I wondered if my mind finally broke from hunger. I had to check if the sound was true.

I rose up quickly. My legs felt weak but I did not care. I ran to the door. My hands shook as I grabbed the metal deadbolt. I unlocked it quickly. I threw the door open.

It was Sophie.

She stood there in blue silk. The one I had bought her. Her face showed bruises but her eyes were clear.

I could not help myself. I took her hands. I pulled her to me. I hugged her tightly. I wanted to feel her in my soul. I wanted to make sure she was real. Not a trick of the light. Hugging her was not enough. I needed more. I leaned down. I kissed her.

I did not mind the guard. I did not mind the chefs. I did not mind that a King should not fall in love with a chef. All I wanted was her. She was my air. She was my center.

Sophie pushed me back. She looked at me with a frown.

"I told you not to kiss me. I don't belong to you Alaric." She said.

I stepped back. My face felt hot. I arranged my tunic in an awkward way. I felt like a boy instead of an Alpha.

I looked at her. I wondered. Why can't she love me back? Or does she feel the same fire? Maybe she is scared of the crown. Maybe she is scared of me.

I turned to the other chefs.

"Set the table." I commanded.

They rushed inside the room. They moved with speed. They set the silver tray down. They arranged the napkins. And the spoons.

They fled the room as soon as they finished. They knew I would send them away. Sophie turned to follow them. She reached the door.

"I can see the blue band on your head." I said.

"It signifies you are the Chief Royal Chef. So where are you going?"

She stopped. She turned. She walked toward the table. She bent down. She arranged the dishes with precise movements.

She began to explain the ingredients of the broth. I did not listen to a single word she said. I just stared at her. Anytime I look at her, everything else disappears. The room becomes a blur. The palace becomes a memory. She is the only thing I see. I did not hear her description of the meal. I only heard the rhythm of her voice.

"Eat with me." I said.

She looked at me. Her eyes widened.

"Your Majesty." She said.

I did not wait for her excuse. I grabbed her hand. I pulled her close to me. I sat her down on the chair next to mine. I looked into her eyes.

"Please eat with me." I said. I made my voice softer.

She picked up the spoon. She scooped the broth. She took a sip. She nodded as she tasted her own work. I watched her lips move.

"Feed me." I said.

She looked hesitant. I saw the look in her eyes. I know she would say I trouble her. I trouble her because I love her. I want to be close to her. I want her to develop feelings for me too. I am a King who has everything. But I am a beggar for her heart.

She scooped another spoonful. She brought it to my mouth. I swallowed the warm liquid. The broth was rich. It held the taste of home.

We sat in silence for a moment. We shared the bowl.

"How did you get out of the cell?" I asked.

"Who unlocked the gate?"

"The Grand Queen Mother released me." She said.

I felt a chill. My grandmother does not act out of mercy. She acts out of strategy.

"What did she ask for in return?" I asked.

Sophie looked down at the silver tray. Her voice became quiet.

"She gave me a condition. I have three days to find out what is wrong with Prince Daemon. I must find the truth or the cure."

I leaned forward.

"And if you fail?"

Sophie reached into her pocket. She pulled out a silver dagger. The blade caught the morning light.

"She told me to use this. If I cannot find the truth I must end my own life to save my honor."

I felt a roar build up in my chest. My grandmother is playing games with the life of the only woman I've ever loved.

She turned a release into a death sentence.

"She has no right." I said.

My voice was a snarl.

"She has every right Alaric." Sophie said.

"I am a foreigner accused of a crime. This is my only chance to prove I am innocent."

I looked at the dagger. I looked at the bruises on her skin. My mind began to race.

I had three days to save her. I had three days to find the poison before the woman I love used that silver blade.