Chapter 28 Bylur
Iexpected a dungeon cell, either that or a blade across my throat, so I wasn’t surprised when they locked me behind bars a hundred feet below ground. The stone floor smelled of body fluids, so I stood. If Daneira kept her word, I’d be dead in three days. I could stand that long.
Would Auria learn to use the key before I died?
Would I know if she did? And would she have talked to Parcival yet?
He would give her the documents I’d arranged that assigned all of Umbran properties and powers to her, but she’d spent more time with the Luxar and Artifex siblings than anyone else.
She might not even tell Parcival I was gone.
But when he realized, he would help her. And I would use my magic’s last breath to permanently house a portion of magic in her key. She would always have access to my power, even if I died in three days.
Dying in three days was really the most likely scenario. Daneira had no motivation to release me, and I would not marry her. Besides finding her entirely repulsive, I was already married. And I refused to do anything to jeopardize Auria’s access to my magic.
A few hours later, a soft set of footsteps tapped on the stone corridor. A maid walked right up to the door in front of me. She was taller than most maids, had a dark mole above her left eyebrow, and radiated magic. She had to be a high noble—no other fae would possess so much power.
But she curtsied like a maid and met my eyes.
“Her Majesty, Queen Daniera, insists you maintain your strength so you are not withered for your wedding.” She extended her hands through the bars.
One held a goblet with some kind of wine and the other held a small platter with a chicken wing on it.
Her slender wrist fit through the bars easily, but she had to tip the plate to get it past the prison door.
I would not eat the food. I’d rather wither than be poisoned. “I will be dead in three days. I have no motivation to eat or drink first.”
She lifted her hands higher. “Nevertheless, the queen insists.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I could grab your wrists, trap you against this prison door, and refuse to let go until you provide a key.”
She set the plate and goblet on the ground. “It wouldn’t work, even if I had a key on me.”
“Of course not,” I muttered to myself. “I’m magically bound.”
“And I’m magically protected,” she retorted.
Magically protected? I raised a brow. That was different.
She snapped her finger and a flicker of flame danced on her hand.
I lowered my eyes. “Why is a high noble posing as a maid? Did you think I would not notice?”
She pointed her gaze at my wrists. “You are wearing magic-cancelling cuffs.”
I lifted my chains up in front of her. “They block my ability to use magic, not my awareness of it in you. Are you here to poison me?”
She fisted her hand, and the flames disappeared. “My story is my own. The queen sent me with your victuals. Enjoy.”
She stood up and marched away. Her refusal to answer my last question told me everything I needed to know about my victuals. I dumped the drink out and shoved the meat between the bars before hunger drove me to try either of them.