Witch Bewitched (New)

Chapter 48

When Misa saw the rectangles of light reaching through the iron door, she rushed her final steps up the stairs. Without thinking twice, she burst through, clanging the thick padlock with the corner of the door and sending it skittering forwards.

She froze. Had it been ten minutes already? Her heart thumped against her ribcage as she saw eight men look at her. The officers had returned from dinner! Where was Royle? Had he failed in keeping them out for the duration that he promised?

She caught him straightening from a desk, where he had been studying a manuscript for a youthful officer. He narrowed his eyes at her, almost as if he hadn't known she was in the dungeon.

"You!" an officer yelled, this one with a thick moustache and rotund belly. He pointed a pudgy finger at her. "How did you open that?"

Misa's jaw worked to form an answer, but her voice was locked in her throat. She wished desperately that she was dreaming, but no matter how many times she pinched herself, she couldn't wake up. She grabbed her arms, covering her chest, flattened as it was. Somehow, getting caught sneaking back from a restricted area spiked her paranoia of revealing her true identity. After all, it had taken a mere squabble between cadets to send Leira into a cold, grimy cell.

"He must have picked the lock," came Royle's matter-of-fact voice. The surety in him would have convinced anyone that his theory was correct.

Misa's jaw dropped. What was he doing? She struggled to keep herself from blurting out that he had opened it for her. As much as she would have loved to expose his façade, she knew it could send her right next to Leira in the dungeons, and any chance Misa had to help her friend would crumble.

"Picked the lock?" The officer harrumphed. "Typical mischief. What have you gone down there for, boy?"

Another officer, a slim, tall man with round spectacles, offered an answer. "Perhaps he was fascinated by the woman. After all, he's been eating, sleeping, and training with her for nearly three months without noticing who she was! I imagine I would have been just as curious if the first woman I ever lived with was under the guise of a man."

Laughter rippled through the other officers, except for Royle and the older, plump man who had first spoken to her. Misa could feel her face flush in anger, but for once, she was glad. The implications the officer had about Misa's 'inexperience with women' would have had any boy turning scarlet in embarrassment.

"This behaviour cannot be tolerated," Royle said, a bit louder than he needed to. His words silenced the room, more from the authority in them than the volume. "This is unacceptable, Mikim. I thought your trip to Harthem would have set you straight, but I see that you need better discipline. Malingering to get out of training is one thing. Sneaking into the dungeon is a danger not only to you, but to the rest of the purgehouse. Should there have been a dangerous criminal down there, you would have risked giving him the tools to escape."

Misa swallowed her rage. With effort. It felt like she was trying to swallow a ball the size of her face, but she somehow managed to keep her lid on. She would have a word with Royle when she had the chance.

"Perhaps you should be sent to a stricter purgehouse to train you." Royle gazed around the room, but all the officers had either returned to their paperwork, pretending not to be paying attention, or kept watch on Misa. "You were particularly well-trained in Harthem."

Then, it clicked. Misa's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected the captain to be so cunning, and she certainly didn't appreciate how he had manipulated her situation to fit into his plan so she would remain a cadet of the purgehouse. But, she had to give it to him. It was a damn clever trick. He had even taken extra measures to put the padlock in the way of the door, to ensure Misa would attract the attention of all the officers in the room.

It would also take her away from the Urthan Purgehouse, where she was known to be Raki's only friend. Any questions of her own gender would be left in the shadows and forgotten by the time she returned. Somehow, Royle had timed everything perfectly, though how much of it was planned from the beginning, Misa did not know.

"We'll discuss this further in my office. Come along."

Misa focused on what she would say as she followed him in. A sickening tug in her gut was the only reason she didn't simmer her rage in hopes of exploding it in the captain's face. He may have figured out a way to send her to Harthem without sacrificing her place in the purgehouse, but he had still set her up. And Misa was still planning on giving him a good piece of her mind to tell him just how much of that crap he spewed could be shoved back down his throat.

In the confines of his boxed office, Misa released her torrent of anger, building it up to a barrage of insults that would give the good captain the burning fire he had sowed. Somehow, Tika's magic didn't explode, though Misa didn't really care for the reason at that moment.

"You are one manipulative, lying sack of human waste," she began, keeping her voice low but sharply intense. "I can't believe you! Did you enjoy that? Did you enjoy ripping into me in front of all those officers by pinning me to a crime I never committed? Are you happy now? I get to stay a cadet, the life I've come to despise, sent back to Harthem where training will be harsher. Where I have to add magic training on top of that!

"And malingering? Malingering, Royle? You know damn well I wasn't faking it when Tika's magic drained every drop of energy from me, and I'm sure it's the stress of this job that's triggering it even more. I don't know why you're so inclined to keep me in the purgehouse, Royle, but understand this: The moment I get to quit this groveling, deprecating, good-for-nothing job, I will leave it in the dust and never return. I can't stand you."

Misa took a breath, ready to continue spewing her anger at him, but he silenced her with his fingers against her lips.

He let out a sigh, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. "As usual, you have no filter when you're angry. I apologise for what I had to do, but it was the only way for you to give an authentic reaction. Besides, you would never have agreed to it if you knew."

Misa shook him off, taking a step back, and glared at him. "I don't care what your reasons were. You lied to me, used my guilt and fear for my close friend to keep me in this hellhole. You used me to get what you want. Again. And, that's it, isn't it? I have to remain a cadet because there's something only I can do that ensures your plan is a success. Something that requires the inside knowledge of a purgehouse officer and the abilities of a witch."

Misa was tired of it. Not even her fantasies about him or strange bouts of giddiness that arose from his presence were enough to dispel the disgust she had for him when she thought about this. "Or perhaps you think I could trick the witches into thinking I could give them valuable information by revealing that I infiltrated a purgehouse. Maybe it's something else. But I wouldn't know because you refuse to tell me. Not until you've strung me up like a mindless puppet that walks in the path you paved for it."

"Misa," he said, taking a step forward. Misa retreated, only to be caught by the door. He towered over her, and she didn't like that she had to look up at him to meet his eyes. Still, she raised her chin in stubborn defiance. She refused to let his height intimidate her. She refused to back down.

"I don't care what your reasons are anymore," she said. "I don't have much of a choice. I'm stuck here, as a useless cadet of the Urthan Purgehouse. Congratulations, Captain, because you succeeded in getting what you want: keeping me in the purgehouse even as I need to leave to Harthem to get Tika's magic under control."

Misa laughed humorlessly. Bitterly. "You have a great talent, you know that? You're a complete master when it comes to exploiting any situation to your advantage. I've realised this from the beginning, but it's only now that I see the brilliance of it. You deserve an award."

A fire pulsed within her, warning her of what was to come. Misa braced herself against the wall, waiting in dreaded anticipation for the cursed magic in her blood to cut short its rejuvenation and pour right back out with the uncontrolled rage she built up within her.

"Misa, stop." Royle caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb, his mere touch clotting the magic that bled out of her, and it was only then that Misa realised a tear had slipped past her eye.

She hated how she could be so vulnerable under that softness that emerged from him in intimate moments. Tears began to well up, and Misa blinked to keep them at bay.

"You're terrible," she said. Sorrow, hurt, betrayal thickened her voice. "Every time you let me get one step closer to you, you close yourself off and run away. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep trying to understand you when you don't tell me anything. You do this..."

Misa reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling his warmth from her face. "You show such a warm side of yourself to make me vulnerable, so I confess my deepest feelings to you. Then, you turn into someone else, refusing to let anyone help you. Isolating yourself from people who care about you, like we don't matter to you. Has your obsession with Nisha really blinded you from the people around you?"

Royle clenched his jaw. "Nisha has nothing to do with it."

Misa shook her head, confusion mingling with hurt and disappointment and a resigned acceptance that Royle would never be more than Nisha's hunter—someone whose very existence couldn't be defined without her.

"What do you mean? When it comes to you, Nisha has everything to do with it. Every single plan you make, every step—every breath—you take is merely a means to get you closer to her. You close yourself off because you're willing to throw your life away if it means ending hers. You hurt the people around you because you only care about finding her. That's what I've come to understand, Royle. No matter how close we get, no matter how many times you see me cry and pour my heart out, no matter how much this friendship means to me, I know that your only goal is to find Nisha and destroy her for what she took from you."

"That might be true," he said. Somehow, he seemed closer. She couldn't remember if she'd been able to feel the heat from him before. "But maybe, I've come to care about something that has nothing to do with her."

"What?"

He leaned down. Shaking her fingers from his wrist, he lifted her chin. Misa's eyes widened as he inched closer. An electric thrill darted from her gut to the base of her spine, climbing, until her whole body was shuddering.

"Maybe," Royle whispered, "I've started to want something I shouldn't have. Because I'm selfish, and I want to believe that there are things in this world worth living for."

"Royle." Her breath hitched. His closeness was overpowering, weakening her legs. "What are you—"

"Shush." He traced his thumb along her bottom lip, silencing her questions.

Misa's heartbeat thundered in her ears and reverberated against her ribcage. She wanted to close her eyes and relish in his touch, to feel him pressed against her, to kiss him. She tried to think of something—anything—else. She tried to think of how he had manipulated her, lied to her, used her for his gain. For a moment, it worked.

But then she remembered how kind he was in Harthem when she had been so vulnerable, so ready to give up. When she had believed every word that had come out of Rithian's mouth. She remembered how he laughed with her, teased her, consoled her, complimented her. He had given Belmon a generous portion of his food just to make sure the driver had a full, warm meal in his belly.

She recalled his embarrassed swearing when he was clumsy—something she had come to adore. The vulnerability he did show her the night Tika died. His small show of support: taking Misa to get water when she couldn't brave through the dark, embracing her when she emerged from her first meeting with Rithian, offering to read Arthran's Plight while she sketched, saving her from the lieutenant that had arrested her. Even now, with his gentle touch, he chased away the monster that wanted to tear through her because she couldn't tame it.

And every drop of adoration, respect, and admiration came crashing down on her like a wave made of individual droplets of memories, dispelling the frustration, anger, and hate she had harboured in her heart.

"Royle..." She met Royle's intense gaze from under her lashes, her hands pressed against the cool wooden door. His eyes flickered to her lips, and Misa closed her own. She tensed, anticipating...something.

Then, a thud resonating in Misa's skull startled her as her cap slid down to her eyes. Something she definitely wasn't expecting. The captain's hand fell from her face, and when Misa lifted her hat, she saw Royle's fingers clipped around his brim. He swore at his cap, and when their eyes met, his cheeks dusted pink. Misa was sure her own were a rich shade of scarlet.

Reality crashed into her. What was she thinking? She must have gone insane. Completely insane. She had told herself countless times, reminded herself of the painful truth, that she could never consider Royle as more than just a friend. These feelings, these confusing, forbidden emotions that bubbled in her every time the captain was around—they clouded her judgement, erased her thoughts of the really important matters at hand. How could she think of sharing something so intimate with a man for her own pleasure when her friend was suffering in the cold, with a swollen bruise marring her skin?

"I...I think we should have this discussion another time," Misa said. Her voice sounded so small. She couldn't catch her breath, and her head still reeled at what had almost happened. Guilt ate away at her for forgetting why she couldn't have this, whatever this was, with the captain. It had been like a dream, so surreal that Misa wondered if it had all just been in her head.

"Misa—"

But Misa was sure her heart would explode if she stayed there a moment later. "I'm sorry, Royle." She whirled around and twisted the doorknob. "It might be best if we caught up in the morning. It seems my mind has gone mad without sleep."

"Wait, Misa."

"Goodnight, Captain!" Misa made sure to announce it as she opened the door, loud enough for the officers at their desk to hear.

To Misa's relief, he didn't follow her out. She rushed towards the hallway, pausing when she found it empty. She leaned her back against the wall to catch her breath. Her pulse was still erratic, as if she'd run twenty laps around the obstacle course.

"I'm doomed," she said to herself, sliding down and burying her face into her hands. Her stomach still fluttered in a way she'd felt once before. Only this time, it hadn't been because she wanted to see the mountains of Harthem. It had been because she let her thoughts wander to how close it was for her to kiss Royle.

And indeed, she was doomed. Because she was sure that she had been bewitched by Captain Royle Bentham.