The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 42

Isabelle awoke with a splitting headache, worsened by the throbbing of her hands and the stinging wound on her neck. It took her a few moments to realize she'd been put to sleep in one of the many guest suites in the castle, this one decorated in shades of plum to compliment the rosewood furniture. The colours swam before her as she squeezed her eyes closed, the memories of last night flooding her thoughts.

She clung to one, seizing onto it if only to keep from drowning in the swirling abyss of loss and pain that threatened to swallow her whole.

Graham.

He'd come back. He loved her. He'd barged in with Sam Winters and helped free her from whatever hell Leopold had planned for her. He'd bandaged her bleeding, injured hands.

He'd come back for her.

He loved her.

Truth be told, his admission hadn't come as a surprise. She'd had her suspicions since the day he'd pinned her into a shadowy corner of the ballroom terrace and told her that he couldn't stand to see Leopold's ring around her finger...

Just the thought of Leopold's name sent her stomach plummeting and had the blood roaring in her ears.

Reaching for the call bell, she winced at both the movement and the twin bandages winding around her palms. Her fingers were just barely able to close around the rope, compressed and held rigidly in place by the bandages. Brown, crusted blood darkened both palms and the sharp dart of pain she'd felt at using her hand told Isabelle that she probably shouldn't have squeezed her palm so soon after her injury. She gingerly felt the place where Leopold's sword had bitten into her neck, another bandage tied there too.

Before she was overwhelmed by thoughts of her wounds and how hideous they must be beneath her bandages, she focused on the fact that she was alive and that she was free. If she bore the scars of her fight to free herself for the rest of her life, at least she would bear them as the Duchess of Kentshire and not as Leopold's subordinate queen.

If Leopold had even planned to keep her alive that long...

"You're awake!"

So caught up in inspecting her injuries and fighting back her dread, she hadn't heard the service door open. Lissa nearly dropped the tea tray she'd been carrying in her rush to throw her arms around Isabelle.

"You're safe!" Isabelle exclaimed, squeezing her maid just as tightly in return.

"We arrived with Lord Winters," she said. "Cedric stayed with me the entire way."

"It's nice to have a familiar face," Isabelle said, fighting her pooling tears as Lissa tried not to look at the bandages winding around her mistress.

"I nearly jumped out of my skin when you rang, it's still hours before dawn," Lissa said, turning her attention to the tea tray. "Though the palace healers have told me that you're not to leave your bed today."

Isabelle didn't miss the fact that her maid's hands were shaking as she poured.

"I'd like to know what became of Leopold," Isabelle said, his name like ash on her tongue. Lissa stilled.

"Perhaps you ought to focus on you recovery before-" Lissa started gently.

"Lissa," Isabelle said firmly. Her maid pursed her lips.

"The last I'd heard, he was being kept in the dungeons. Rightfully so, I say," Lissa said, her lips curling into a vicious little sneer as she shook away thoughts of the foreign prince. "Vile monster of a man."

Isabelle obliged Lissa by taking a fortifying gulp of the heavily sugared tea before pushing the covers off as best she could with her injured hands.

"Help me get dressed," Isabelle said, waving away her maid's protests and fighting down her dread at the prospect of facing her father's murderer.