10. CHAPTER 10 #3
I wasn’t sure my attitude would get me anywhere in Gothryn, but I was certain there had to be an explanation of what my work would include, at the very least. Was I expected to wait until I was called upon?
The soldier scratched his beard in agitation.
“You will be the indenture of the Crown Prince, Sorin Blackwater. You will stay here, in your quarters, until you are called upon.” Well, that answered that question.
“Is that clear? You are not to travel the castle alone. You are not to leave this room unattended until your assignment has been explained to you.”
Was this not the explanation of my assignment?
If I didn’t know any better…that last part almost sounded as if it were a threat. I swallowed hard, nodding once. “Understood.”
The soldier turned on his heel to walk off, but I reached after him with my hand. He glanced down at it, then back up to meet my gaze once more. The disgust was visible in his expression. I removed my hand, shrinking back.
“I only meant to ask—where would I find a place to refresh myself after such long travel? And will I be provided meals in my room?”
The soldier’s laugh echoed down the corridor, his head falling back.
“Your washroom—if you choose to call it that—is at the end of the hallway. It is shared with the other indentures residing in the dormitory wing. Your meals will be sent to your rooms twice daily.”
“But when—” I started, but the soldier had already taken off down the hall and was not inclined to turn back a second time.
I cringed at the idea of what the ‘washroom’ might consist of given his less than stellar recommendation of it.
As long as it had fresh water, I could make do.
I thought wistfully of the extravagant claw footed tubs I had been spoiled with in Myros as I reached out to grasp the heavy brass handle to my room.
I twisted, unsure what I would find in the room beyond.
The moment I stepped foot inside, I was greeted with the happy yips of Quinnick as he sprung upward from the cot, lovingly wrapping around my legs.
“I’m so happy to see you here!” I told him, leaning down to scratch behind his ear. The moment I did, he flopped onto his back, begging for belly rubs.
“Such a good boy,” I murmured.
I obliged him, scratching him happily until my curiosity got the better of me. I rose to stand, my perusal of the small room rather swift with how tiny it was.
It was a stone-walled bedchamber barely large enough to fit a narrow cot and a small, warm fireplace.
It was lit entirely by the firelight and a single candle tucked inside a lantern atop the trunk at the base of the bed.
The mantle of the fireplace was bare, the cot tucked against the wall layered with thick and worn textured blankets.
A single narrow window sat in an alcove recessed from the wall.
My bags were resting on the floor before the fireplace. I was surprised to find them here. I had been entirely convinced that I would never see them again with the manner in which they were torn from me in the dockyards.
It wasn’t entirely unlike the private accommodations on the ship, and that thought had trepidation filling my gut anew. I hated the accommodations on the ship. Much like the room before me now, the ship had made me claustrophobic.
I didn’t want to appear ungrateful; I was lucky to have any accommodations at all with how many weren’t as fortunate on the streets of Majur. And a room to myself, no less. I had imagined I would have to share.
I climbed onto the bed to peer out the narrow, arched window. Below was a training field, several soldiers practicing battle moves atop the perfectly groomed lawn. The field was lined with boxwoods and vibrant, pink foxglove. I fell back onto the bed with a laugh.
There was no shortage of poison at the castle, then. The thought reminded me that I needed to take more of my tincture. Three drops under the tongue.
I required at least three doses weekly to maintain my immunity.
I was used to the acrid taste of this particular elixir, and it went down easily.
They hadn’t thought to search my gown when I entered the castle, though I was sure the reason for them taking our bags ahead of time was to root around in them.
I knew better than to leave it lying in plain sight.
My mother had always taught me to keep it hidden.
Quinnick jumped up onto the bed with me and curled against me. Together, we nestled against the single brown pillow before the crackling flames of the fire. It might be summer, but the stone of the castle leeched cold into the air. That cold permeated everything. I was thankful for the warmth.
I tried my hardest not to ponder if that was the pillow’s natural color or simply the color it had taken on after years of not having been washed. It did have an ivory undertone to it…
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I didn’t have as much as a book in my quarters to keep me busy while I waited for my meal or the ‘explanation’ of my contract. We hadn’t even negotiated—I had simply been whisked from the great hall following a mere nod from the prince.
I could check out the shared washroom that had been made to sound more like a watering hole, but my legs had grown tired from the extensive travel. The constantly swaying deck of the ship was a never-ending battle, and I savored even a modicum of stability as I lay against the pillow with Quinnick.
A knock on the door had me stirring from my rest.
What time was it? Had I dozed off?
I peeled my eyes open, but only darkness remained. The fire in the grate had extinguished, and a quick glance out the window confirmed it was, indeed, nighttime. I would never be able to find the matches in the darkness. I rose from the bed intending to simply open the door.
I swiftly stubbed my toe on the foot of the narrow cot as I felt my way along the walls to the doorway. I cursed, praying whoever it was at the door had a godsforsaken lantern with them.
The knocking came again, more insistent this time.
When I finally grasped the brass handle in the darkness and turned, the door creaked open.
The corridor beyond was blessedly well lit.
But the person before me—it was the absolute last person I expected to be standing at my door.