William spent the next two days trying to regain at least a shred of control over his life.
He searched for clues in the records the governor had given him, but the constant presence of soldiers just a few steps away kept distracting him.
It felt like being trapped.
Their unceasing presence suffocated him and made him feel like a prisoner. Their eyes followed his every movement, a constant shadow at his back.
William felt his grip slipping. The frustration kept building, making him increasingly restless. More than once, he found himself staring at the page without really seeing it, gripping the pen so tightly that it carved grooves into his palm.
What was worse, the prince was avoiding him. He had even stopped keeping William informed about the mission, as if he no longer considered him useful or reliable.
As if the mage were no longer needed for anything.
He had no purpose. He had nothing. He was just a fragile doll meant to be collected.
On the evening of the third day, William's frustration reached its peak.
He laid the pen down on the disjointed notes he had taken so far.
"You're distracting me."
Ian sighed. "I can't leave. I'm sorry, William, but these are His Highness's orders."
"I don't care! I can't work like this!"
The soldier gave him a pained look, but he did not move. He never would.
William knew that he had no authority over the guards, and that the prince would never leave him alone. Still, he needed solitude.
He needed to reclaim something for himself, even if it meant hurting himself in the process.
He snapped the records shut, grabbed his notes, and left the archives at a brisk pace. Ian followed him, and William's frustration exploded.
He couldn't go on like this. He wasn't his doll.
He reached the study where the prince had shut himself away for the past three days and threw the door open without knocking.
"Order them to leave me alone!"
Alex looked at him in confusion and rose from his chair. "Will, what happened?"
"Do it!"
"What? I don't understand."
"Tell your men to go away!"
"Why?"
"Because they're bothering me and they won't let me work."
The prince shook his head. "I can't. I'm doing this for your own good. To keep you safe."
"That's not true. You're treating me like a child, but I don't need to be watched every second."
He didn't need to become a prisoner.
"Are you joking? I found you while you were… while you were hurting yourself. I'm just making sure it doesn't happen again."
"I don't need that! I'm not an object to be protected!"
"And I'm not treating you like one!"
That wasn't true. It was a damn lie, and the prince didn't even realize it.
William took a step back. "You don't understand. And you're no different from everyone else. Even to you, I'm just a treasure to be protected."
"That's not true, Will. I'm taking care of you. I'm doing this for your own good."
"You're lying!" William shouted. "You're doing it to feel better about yourself! You decided to keep me out of all this. You didn't ask me! I don't matter in any of this, do I? I never matter to anyone!"
"You matter to me, Will!"
"Liar! I'm nobody—not even to you." His throat tightened. "I'm not even a person to you."
A flash of terror crossed the prince's eyes. "That's not true. You… you are a person to me. An important person. Someone I want to protect."
He went around the desk and moved closer to William.
"Will, if anything were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself. You can understand that, right?"
William shook his head. He understood it and felt it, but he didn't need to be kept prisoner. He didn't want to be treated like a glass ornament.
He needed the prince by his side, supporting him—without turning into his jailer.
He glanced at the papers covering the desk, at the many pencil notes, most of them partially erased. The prince had found clues and hadn't told him anything?
He picked up a letter and skimmed the text. Was it encoded? Wait a moment…
He looked at the prince. "What does this mean? Why didn't you tell me?"
Alex lowered his gaze; there was nothing but guilt in his blue eyes. "There was no need to involve you."
"Why? I'm your mage!"
"You're hurt, Will. You should only be thinking about resting."
William stepped back. "I don't need that."
"That's not true!" the prince snapped. "If I didn't keep you safe, that bastard would assault you."
"I can defend myself!"
"No, William! You can't defend yourself, or else you would have done it already. So I have to do it for you. Do you understand?"
William fell silent, and the wound in his chest grew, devouring him.
The prince didn't trust him. He didn't even consider him capable of protecting himself. In the prince's eyes, he really was just a child to be defended.
And that letter… he would never have decoded it without him. They both knew it, and yet Alex hadn't asked for his help. He had kept him on the sidelines.
The pain turned into anger, burning through his veins. If the prince didn't believe in him, he would force him to open his eyes. He would prove that he was still useful, that he didn't deserve to be cast aside like that.
William left the study and headed toward his room. Ian followed him like a shadow, making his anger flare even hotter.
William entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him to keep anyone from following.
The prince had no idea how valuable that letter was, but he did. A single glance had been enough to decipher the most important parts. If he put the merchant under pressure, he could put an end to the matter without endangering His Highness.
He could be useful again.
His gaze fell on a letter resting on the floor. When he had left, he was certain it hadn't been there.
He picked it up, opened it, and read its contents. The message was brief, asking only that he meet the sender in one of the small sitting rooms on the ground floor around sunset. Alone.
There was only one person who would dare that much: Cox.
William looked toward the window. The sun had set not long ago—maybe he wasn't too late.
It was a trap, but he didn't care. He was tired of everything, especially the prince's distance and the lies he had been told to keep him bound to his side.
If putting himself in danger was the price he had to pay to reclaim his freedom, he would do it. If the merchant wanted to lay his hands on him again, William would show him he was not an object.
He would defend himself and expose him.
But first he had to get rid of Ian. He had to… hurt someone he had begun to care about.
He crumpled the letter in his palm and leaned against the desk, nausea clawing at his stomach.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry, but I have no choice."
He was rotten enough to hurt a man who had protected him. But it was all he could do to feel useful to someone again.
William took the grimoire and left the room. Ian gave him an impassive glance, then his eyes slid to the tome clutched to the mage's chest.
"William?"
The mage pressed his hand against Ian's chest. Magic flowed from his skin, and a magic circle took shape in the air.
Ian's eyes widened; he took a step back, but his body stiffened. He collapsed at William's feet like a marionette with its strings cut.
"What… what does this mean?"
"You'll be fine in a couple of hours."
"His Highness—"
"I'll take responsibility for everything. It's not your fault; you're a good soldier. I'll make sure the prince won't punish you."
William had attacked a member of the prince's private guard—there was no ignoring a fault like that. But it was fine. It was a price he was willing to pay.
Right now, he needed to be free and face the merchant without guards watching him.
He set the grimoire in Ian's lap and traced a protective glyph.
"As long as you keep it with you, no one will hurt you."
It was the least he could do after leaving him unable to defend himself.
Ian's gaze darted from the book to him. "He doesn't… want this. You'll break his heart."
"I know, but I have no choice. Tell him I'm sorry, and that… he's always been wrong. The evil mage can't become good, not even if the prince does everything he can to make him fall in love."
William stepped away and walked down the corridor, reaching the meeting place. Fear drummed in his chest, but the little magic he had left was enough to face the merchant.
The sitting room was bathed in a warm half-light.
A candle burned on a small table, casting a halo of light. The scent of melted wax lingered in the air. Beside the candlestick were a couple of glasses and an open bottle.
Someone had been drinking there until moments earlier.
William bent down to smell the wine, but a gloved hand clamped over his mouth.
Panic surged through him as fingers pressed against his lips, smothering his muffled protests.
His attacker pinned his arms to his body, and a faint numbness crept down William's legs. Poison? A drug? Was there something on the gloves?
"I didn't think you'd really come," the merchant said as he emerged from the shadows, his face set in a satisfied expression. "Not alone, at least. Did you get rid of the prince's guards?"
William struggled in the grip of the man behind him, but he didn't have enough strength.
Cox stopped in front of him. "Let go of his mouth. Even if he screams, no one will save him."
The hand moved away from his mouth, and William drew a deep breath. "Let me go."
"Oh, now you resist? What a shame—I preferred you when you were docile."
He grabbed William by the jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"You're not the first violated man I've owned, mage. Men like you—fragile and broken—are all the same. You freeze when you're touched, you submit to doing the most degrading things without batting an eye. You're convinced you deserve nothing, and you're right."
"Don't touch me!"
"You're stubborn, I'll give you that. But you're still an abused man."
The merchant poured a glass of wine and slipped a powder in it. He returned to him, forced his mouth open, and tipped the liquid down his throat. It went down the wrong way, and William coughed, spitting some of it onto the floor.
Then he stiffened. His vision blurred, and an unpleasant numbness flooded his body. Panic clamped down on him, and his mind drifted away. He felt nothing anymore—not even the hands holding him in place.
He had to break free, weave a spell, but his limbs were heavy and his thoughts muddled.
Cox grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head.
"The prince dared to challenge me, and I'll break his beloved mage. You'll be my most precious treasure." He brushed his thumb over William's lips. "The pretty lover of a weak prince."