Chapter 15
Belle
The second day passed much as the first, and the third the same. I was forced to wear dresses, as the king had my trousers and shirt burned, incinerating the last vestiges of my former life, as he had all my ambitions.
The only upside was spending time with Loreli.
She was the only light in the castle, the only comfort I had.
In poor repayment for her companionship, I grilled her relentlessly as she tended to her duties: about the castle, about the court, and always, about the king—every detail I could imagine that might be of use.
I didn’t have a pen or paper to write it down, so I repeated what I learned to myself after she’d gone.
His thirst is relentless. He drinks from a new woman every night. He disappears for days at a time, and no one knows where he goes.
I was desperate for news of Marcel and Gregoire, but there was only so much Loreli could discover. The dungeon guards were tight-lipped, but a pair of stable hands had seen an old man leaving the postern gate with a wagon full of furs, heading for Eradessa.
It wasn’t much, but it was a flicker of hope. Marcel was alive and free. The king had kept his word, at least in that.
Maybe he’d turn south instead and make for the Bloodvale. To Ella. To his family. I prayed to the Fates to protect him, whichever way his path led, and to look after Maeve and the children.
When it all seemed hopeless, or Loreli grew quiet, I’d shift our conversation to life in the Bloodvale or my favorite books. She was amazed I could read and begged me to teach her, but of course, the king’s men had discarded the only book I still possessed, and she had none of her own.
I watched the door shut each time she left. My solitude was a constant reminder of how powerless I was, and of everything that had been taken from me by the fucking dragon king.
I hadn’t seen him since he’d questioned me in the tower, but he haunted my thoughts.
The cruel beauty of his face. The irresistible pull he had on me.
The appalling way I’d melted before him.
I could almost feel his presence in the stones around me, in the prickles that skated over my skin each night, as if he was always watching, always close.
Each time I turned to look, no one was ever there.
When I couldn’t purge him from my mind, I turned each thought into a new way to kill him. A stake through the heart, a knife drawn slowly across his throat, an arrow loosed from my high window. Yet what hope was there?
I was his hostage with no chance of escape. The guards ignored my shouts and pleas, looking through me as if I didn’t exist, as if my voice were nothing. The walls closed in, and my nerves frayed as the days ticked by. Four. Five. Then six.
Sleep became harder. The fire was too warm, the comforter too confining, my dreams no escape—only another reminder of the man who’d imprisoned me. I tossed and turned, and finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.
I shoved open the doors to my balcony and leaned out over the stone railing, relishing the way the frigid night air swirled around me.
I breathed deeply, looking out over the ancient walls of the castle to the dark woods beyond.
That was where freedom lay. Better to be hunted by the beasts than to be trapped a minute longer in their master’s tower.
I had to get out of this wretched place, or I was going to lose my mind.
Just as I was about to go back in, voices drifted up from below. I froze. I knew that silken voice.
I rushed to the other side of the balcony and peered down into the dimly lit courtyard. The king was talking to an officer, maybe the captain who’d met me at the gate the night I’d arrived. I couldn’t make out their conversation, only that the king looked frustrated.
“Hey,” I shouted. “Up here!”
The captain glanced up, a deep frown cutting his face, but the king acted as if he hadn’t heard me.
I knew he had. Immortals had excellent hearing.
The pair began walking toward the main hall, and frustration boiled through me. I twisted, searching for anything I could use to get their attention, but the balcony was barren. My eyes landed on the porcelain vase of roses sitting on my bedside table. Perfect.
I darted inside, flung the white roses across the floor, then dashed back onto the balcony with the vase in tow. The captain had already left, and the king was crossing toward the back of the courtyard. Could I hit him?
Please Gods, let me get close.
I hoisted the vase over my head, did a quick mental calculation, then hurled it into the darkness. It flew farther than expected, dropping like a rock from the heavens. Instead of hitting my intended target, it crashed onto the pavement two steps behind him in a deafening shatter.
“Let. Me. Out!”
The king turned, his gaze lifting from the scattered shards to the balcony, and then to me. Chills spread over my bare skin, and I smiled.
That’s right, asshole. You better watch your back, because next time I will aim for your head.
Fury etched his features, and then—he was gone. I leaned over the railing, searching the courtyard, but there was no sign of him. The bastard had simply left. At least he got my message. I returned to my room, my mood mildly improved.
The door to my chamber flew open, slamming against the wall, and I leapt back.
The king’s broad frame filled the doorway, his demeanor dark and furious. “Let me make this crystal clear, princess—I don’t respond to summons.”
No, just vases lobbed out of castle towers.
I hid the grin that danced over my lips, forcing my expression to become as cold as stone. “You’ve kept me in here for six days without anything to do, not even a book to read. My accommodation is nothing more than a prison cell with a fancy privy. I want out.”
The king took a step forward and slammed the door shut behind him. “Would you prefer to return to a normal prison cell with a bucket for a privy? Because that can be arranged.”
I braced my hands on my hips and met him straight on. “You said I was your guest. How about you start treating me like one, Your Highness?”
His eyes roamed down my form, and I became painfully aware that I was wearing only my very white, very translucent shift. “Be more specific. How exactly do you want me to treat you?”
I yanked a shawl off a chair and wrapped it around myself.
A muscle in his jaw moved, and his eyes warmed to a rich honey tone. Was I imagining that?
I lifted my chin and met his heated gaze head-on, willing the warmth from my face. “I want the freedom to leave my room. To wander the castle as I wish.”
“You can have those freedoms once you earn my trust. Until then, you’re a liability.”
A liability? Was he serious?
“How can I possibly earn your trust if I’m locked in my bedchamber?”
Something dark and menacing flashed in his expression, and a deep unease settled between my ribs.
“You’re right,” he said in a low, gravelly tone that dragged over my skin. “I’ve been negligent in my duties as a host. You’re a royal guest and should be treated as such. I will host a banquet in your honor tomorrow and present you to the court—they have a keen appetite for beautiful women.”
Did he mean a banquet or a blood feast?
My mouth went dry, and my gaze danced nervously toward the door. “I’m afraid I’m not suited to large gatherings. I’d much prefer a stroll through the gardens to catch some sunlight.”
“Oh, but I insist,” he said, darkly amused. “Consider it a chance to prove that you belong in these rooms, instead of a cell beneath the castle.”
I stood there, staring back at him in mute horror.
He flashed me a wicked grin and opened the door to leave. “Sleep soundly, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”