“You wouldn't do that,” the older Titan spoke again. “You know what's at stake, just as clearly as we do.”

“Right now, I am willing to do anything to get out of that room, trust me.” I tapped my foot impatiently against the stone floor and stared down my captors. They were on high alert, their magic flaring with the protective, battle-ready instincts that made them superhuman Immortals. Threatening well-trained, armed Titans was not going to get me anywhere, I realized a little late, and so I dropped my arms to my sides, sighed heavily and tried a different approach, “Please, I am going stir crazy in there.... I won't leave the castle, and I just want to walk around for a little bit. Nothing crazy I promise.”

I lifted my eyes to the older Titan that seemed to be in charge, pleading with him in what I hoped looked like a covert, grown-up version of puppy-dog-eyes. He looked down at me and then at his fellow Titans and raised his hands exasperatedly, letting them fall heavily.

“If you try anything funny you know what happens to those prisoners,” he threatened. I physically felt his resolve break in the form of his magic relaxing and then he stepped out of my way.

“I know, I know!' I agreed.

I bounded down the stairs enthusiastically with ten Titans following me. I didn't have any idea where I was going, but it felt so good to be out of Kiran's empty bedroom and walking around that I didn't really care.

“Are there any places in the castle that I can't go?” I turned to the older Titan with the scar, questioning carefully.

“Yes,” he answered definitively.

“Ok, where are they?” I pressed, realizing I was going to have to work for every answer I got out of this guy.

“We won't let you go there, don't worry,” he laughed confidently.

“What's your name?” I asked, not wanting to make conversation with him, but I hadn't talked in four days, except with Sebastian and that was only briefly, so I couldn't stop myself.

“Jedrec,” he answered.

“How did you get that scar across your neck, Jedrec?” I inquired out of pure curiosity. “I thought we healed from all of that stuff?”

“How did you get a tattoo on your neck that defies your king and glows in the dark?” He countered, demonstrating how inappropriate my prying was. Still, I was determined to extract an answer from him and I had nothing to lose.

“I did it myself, and obviously, I did it wrong,” I explained sheepishly. “And if you remember correctly, my very existence defies your king.” I finished with firm confidence and Jedrec gave me a sidelong glance of disbelief.

“Your grandfather gave it to me, if you must know,” he offered honestly.

“Amory?” I gasped. “But how?

“With my own weapon,” He patted the hilt of his magical sword that dangled from his hip.

“I'm sorry?” I tried to sound sincere, but it came out more like a question.

“Don't be!” Jedrec barked a laugh, tilting his head back in good humor. “I deserved it.”

“Why?” I asked carefully, not expecting him to answer.

“I was trying to kill him,” Jedrec answered in an obvious tone that I found amusing.

“And by the looks of it, he was trying to kill you to,” I commented with feeling.

“No, he wasn't. If he had been, he would have succeeded. This is mercy,” he tapped the ugly scar that wrapped around his thick neck. “Your grandfather was a skilled warrior, nothing and nobody could kill him.”

“Somebody killed him,” I reminded him. My blood soared with fresh pain from the memory of his death and I swallowed back the tears threatening to flood my vision.

“Only because he wanted to die,” Jedrec commented dryly and I had to turn my head to make sure I heard him right. There were suddenly a million questions I wanted to interrogate him with, but he shot me a warning look that I felt to my bones. This was not the place to press him for information. “This is the library,” he abruptly changed the subject and lifted his eyes to double brass doors. “It's an extensive collection, if you would care to look around.”

“Thank you.” I smiled politely and then swung open a heavy door and let myself in. The Titans remained outside the library and gave me privacy.

We had wandered through the castle on the first floor, passed the courtroom and somewhere below the ballroom. For some reason, I expected the library to be set up like a public library back home, with rows and rows of tall bookshelves arranged by the Dewy Decimal System and with cards on the inside cover of each book allowing you to check them out. But the castle, as I was frequently reminded, was more than a public gathering place, it was a personal residence for a family.

Although the room was very large, and there were bookshelves in the middle of the room set up in orderly rows and extending toward the back, the majority of the books were placed on floor to ceiling built-in bookshelves that lined the walls of the room. The upper shelves were accessible by a tall ladder that rolled along the wall, attached with wheels and a track to the rosewood paneled extremely vaulted ceiling.

The library was warm and plush, with a deep green carpet overlaying the cold stone floor I knew lay underneath. A long, boardroom-style mahogany table sat centered in the only open space not containing additional bookshelves. High-backed matching chairs encircled it, inviting any visitor to grab a book and spend hours at that table, shutting oneself off from the rest of the world.

I stepped cautiously forward, not wanting to disturb the peace of the room, and wondered if the books were shelved in any particular order. I turned right and ran my fingers over the ancient, worn book bindings of a shoulder-high shelf. Most of the titles were in different languages and seemed hundreds of years old. I was too afraid to move anything from its place and disturb the careful order of the library.

I spent the next hour just walking around, trying to read titles or wondering if the title I made out was actually the original copy of a book that seemed like it belonged in a museum under and airtight case and behind armed guards. My heart felt lighter in this room, relieved that even though I was fighting pure evil, there was an educated sophistication about the whole thing, a real history that belonged to the people as well as the illusive freedom I was determined to give them.

The room made me trust Jedrec in an unexplainable way. He fought my grandfather, but conceded that Amory was a skilled fighter and saved his life. He took in my tattoo with mild humor. And he brought me here, to a room that felt very much like escape.

Trusting a Titan was dangerous and I knew that. They swore their allegiance to Lucan and even if my plan for freedom included them, as of right now they were my enemy. They would do anything to protect Lucan for fear of their own lives and I had to remember that, because of that, I was their enemy too.

Yet I also trusted Talbott.

The door opened and I turned, thinking it would be Jedrec calling me from the books back to the confined space of Kiran's empty bedroom. Instead, Lucan stepped through the door, looking surprised to see me. We stared at each for only a moment, before I turned my attention back to the books my fingers rested on without bothering to bow or even acknowledge him.

I felt him stand in the doorway and stare at me. I didn't dare turn around and assess his expression, but I realized then that my defiance might have cost me something. I swallowed the lump in my throat and willed my defensive magic into control, realizing the broken handcuffs around my wrists should make me at least appear exhausted. I slumped my shoulders in an effort to look run down and sighed obviously.

Quick, heavy footsteps headed my direction and when Lucan's towering figure loomed over me, I had to drop my hand from the bookshelf to hide my trembling anxiety.

“Eden,” he greeted me curtly.

I turned toward him for the second time and nodded my head, forcing my lips into a smile so fake I felt like a cartoon. In general I tried to avoid addressing him all together. I couldn't bring myself to call him, “Your Highness,” or “Your Majesty.” I also knew that calling him “Lucan” or any of the other foul words I had rattling around in my head would get me into serious trouble.

“I'm glad you're here,” Lucan continued, still standing over me. “I wanted to congratulate you on your good behavior over the weekend. I appreciate your obedience. I understand that it is not in your nature to adhere to any kind of rules, let alone orders or commands.” Lucan's tone was purely factual, but still it was obvious he never thought I could pull it off.

A burst of short, derisive laughter escaped me and I turned on my heel to face the monster that thought he actually knew what I was capable of, or what my personality was like. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I am so happy to know that my efforts didn't go unnoticed,” I spat out sarcastically and then quickly added, “and that no innocent Immortal has to die today.”

I watched his eyes harden into steely slits of anger and he clasped his arms behind his back as if he were going to start a long lecture now. He was wearing a casual, but immaculately tailored suit and his royal robes were missing today. His crown, always tilted on his head, looked down at me mockingly, promising me I would never get one of my own.

“Despite what you think, or what I have led you to believe, I do not enjoy taking the lives of my people,” he answered tersely.

“Yeah, Ok,” I mumbled and stopped myself from rolling my eyes. I turned back to the books, and pretended not to pay him any attention.

“I know you do not have a high opinion of me, Eden, and let me be clear; I am not seeking one from you. But I do know your intention for me, for my family. I know you have your own aspirations for this crown, as foolish as they may be, and I would just like to understand how you think a kingdom should be ruled.” He stood beside me waiting for my response. The silence that settled over us was charged with intense expectation and I wouldn't have been able to keep my mouth shut even if I wanted to. His question demanded a response, not because the question came from a king, but because of the moral responsibility attached to it.

“With fairness,” I said simply and then added quickly but with more conviction, “with freedom.”

“Ah, yes. What is this imagined freedom you speak of?” Lucan snapped coldly. “My people have freedom. You had freedom until you started this idiotic mission that left me no choice but to strip you of it.”

“What about the Shape-shifters?” I accused. I saw on his face how fair he thought he ruled, how righteously and benevolently he believed he treated his people and I stood dumbfounded.

“What about them? Since you lack any knowledge of our history, let me enlighten you. They earned their exile; do not be fooled. From the beginning they opposed the monarchy and they could not be trusted. Later, there was peace between our two sides, or at least non-violence; but they are the ones who interrupted the balance, not the other way around.”

“My grandmother?” I pressed bravely. “Is that who you mean?”

“Of course, that's who I mean!” Lucan shouted at me, his anger flaring to life without warning. I took a step back impulsively, but he composed himself, tugging at his collar and then running his hand over his goatee. “Cecily destroyed any balance the rest of the kingdom had come to know. If you want to blame anyone for the cruelty those animals face today, blame her, not me.”