Chapter Eighteen
E IGHTEEN
I don’t sleep well. I’m not supposed to, on a bare mattress, with no fire in the hearth. The only warmth comes from my dress, and I try to snuggle into it, but it’s not particularly warm or snuggly.
After a fitful sleep, I wake to the click of my door. I lift my head to see Ann, accompanied by an older wolf I don’t recognize.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess.” She curls her lip. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?”
I shrivel inside and begin to wish I’d saved some of my dinner for breakfast. I also wish I hadn’t sparred with Ann. I’d only wanted to find the way past her armor, but I’d made an enemy.
Mistake after mistake after mistake.
“Ready for your breakfast?” she says.
She smirks, lifts the plate, and spits. Only her spittle lands on her left hand instead.
“There,” she says. “Do you still want it?”
I glare at her and put out my hands. She jiggles the plate as if threatening to topple the food onto the floor. I grab it, and she laughs again.
“Enjoy your breakfast, Princess,” she says, and leaves with her guard.
I wait until she’s gone, send up a silent promise that I’ll make this up to Ann, and then I dig in.
I spend the day in my room, with nothing to do but think.
Thankfully, Ann has taken over as my food server, and she continues pretending to soil my food, and I continue to scowl and curse her, and then when she picks up the empty tray later, she mocks me for eating the ruined food.
These bits of stage-acting are the only bright spots in my day, and the only interaction I have with anyone.
My father doesn’t come to see me. Bishop doesn’t come to see me. I’m left alone, and so I spend the time plotting my escape. Because my only way out of this situation is escape.
Had Bishop’s note yesterday honestly meant he was still working on freeing me? Had his warning meant he wasn’t allowed to come back to see me? Had his haughty words and accusations been as much for our audience as my byplay with Ann?
I don’t know, and I don’t care.
I can’t trust Bishop Daniels, and for all I know, his note was only to keep me calm, trusting in him and doing nothing to help myself because surely my handsome knight will rescue me.
Escape won’t be easy, but fighting back is clearly not an option. Between my spells and my knife, I might defeat one werewolf, even two, but I cannot defeat two dozen.
Escape will require a horse. When I went walking with Bishop, I saw the stables, and I’m an excellent rider. I’ll happily shed my gown and flee in my corset and drawers, riding the horse bareback.
There’s a creek on the property. Bishop showed me that after our time in the meadow. I’ll need to get the horse to the creek, where the werewolves will lose its scent. Either ride through the creek or climb off, send the horse running, and wade in myself.
Yes, that seems best. Abandon the horse at the creek, where the water will hide my escape.
Where will I go after that? In my drawers? With no money?
I’ll figure that out when the time comes. If I need to steal clothing from a line or pick a man’s pocket while I dazzle him with my bosom, I’ll do it.
All I need to do is wait. Eventually, I’ll be let out of this room, and I can execute my escape.