CHAPTER THIRTEEN
My heart pulsed in my throat, making it difficult for me to swallow or even breathe. The numbing effects of the tonic Isolde had given me seemed to already be wearing off, making my ribs ache with every step, every gasping breath.
The inn’s hallway was cozy and inviting, its floor cushioned in thick carpet and its walls adorned with countless burning lanterns to brighten the dim light of winter spilling through the windows. Crackling fires burned in each room we passed, where various fae cleaning the vacant spaces paused to bow or curtsey in our direction.
And all the while, the city’s celebrations continued outside, the music and singing and laughter following us even into the inn.
King Preston sidled up behind me, placing a hand on my lower back. I struggled not to gag. “You can prepare here,” he said, gesturing toward a closed door before us, “and rest if you choose. Or you can join the celebration.” He grinned, as if at some private joke. I wondered if he was inwardly laughing at the thought of me participating in a party that precluded my death.
“Prepare?” I demanded.
After Queen Nerissa’s proclamation, she’d bid the citizens continue their partying and feasting for the rest of the day until it came time for my next test, which would take place tonight. Then she’d led our entire group toward this inn, where apparently I was to...prepare.
“Well, you can celebrate in that,” he said, his bloody eyes skimming the silver dress and too-tight corset Isolde had bound me in, “but I imagine you don’t want to fight a demon in it.” He shrugged. “Though the choice is yours. You’re the one with royal blood, after all. Your wish is our command.”
Fury lanced through my chest at his lazy smile. My eyes flicked around the hall. Queen Nerissa and the others had remained downstairs, sitting by the fire, likely prepared to enjoy the festivities, but Garrick had trailed after Preston and me. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching us blankly as if our discussion meant nothing to him. Courage gathered in my heart, fueled by my anger and desperation. Quiet obedience would do nothing for me now. “Hardly. You own me, and you’re clearly trying to kill me. What happens if I truly am a Silverfrost, but the fact that you’re somehow stifling my magic means I die tonight? What about my blood then?”
“So, the quiet human has found her voice. Charming.” Preston stepped closer, his hand seizing my neck, wrenching my gaze up toward his.
My ears rang. His cold fingers didn’t squeeze enough to stop my airflow—only enough to remind me that I was his prisoner.
“If you die tonight, then I suppose that means you’ll spill all your blood for your kingdom, and we’ll collect it,” he snapped. He released me, and I stumbled back. “Garrick, keep an eye on her,” Preston demanded, storming back down the hall.
My mind whirled. What Preston had said had to be an idle threat, or he and his sister wouldn’t have bothered to keep me alive this long. Or so I assumed. But that line of reasoning didn’t assuage my fear.
I didn’t wait to see if Garrick moved from his position against the wall before I lunged for the door, turning the knob and hurrying into the solitude of my room. A tunic and a pair of the same type of tight-fitting trousers Aspen and Isolde had worn rested on the bed, while a fire crackled merrily in the hearth.
Eyes burning, I clicked the door shut and strode past the fireplace, the fur-covered bed, and the side table laden with a pitcher of water and a tray of refreshments. I stopped before the window, staring out at my view of the outskirts of town, where the landscape stretched toward an imposing mountain. My gaze scanned upward, snagging on a fortress perched on a cliffside. Its stone walls appeared high and impenetrable. Its iron gates were securely shut.
The sound of the door opening and closing behind me made me stiffen. I sucked in another breath, trying to still my racing heart, and another wave of aching pain roared through me. Had my corset grown tighter?
“I don’t need help getting ready—not from you,” I murmured, crossing my arms and staring resolutely out the window. It was a childish thought: that if I refused to turn and look at him, he’d leave me alone. He wouldn’t have the power to hurt me anymore. Deep down, I knew that was impossible. He’d been ordered to hunt me down, and now he had been ordered to ensure I didn’t run. Ever the loyal dog, he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
“Thinking about running?” Garrick’s tone was cool and even, completely at odds with the man who’d teased me on horseback earlier.
The storm building inside me broke free, just a little. I turned, lifting my chin defiantly. “Maybe I am.”
“You wouldn’t get far.” There was no threat in his voice, no animosity in his gold eyes. He was only stating a fact.
“I’d inconvenience you.”
“Oh,” Garrick said, prowling closer. I swallowed, noting that, backed against the window, there was nowhere else for me to go. “You’re not hoping to escape then? Only inconvenience me?”
I ignored his question, answering with one of my own. “Would you have stood by and watched Preston strangle me?”
Garrick’s expression was a mask, his eyes empty. “He didn’t.”
“Do you even think for yourself, or are you such a faithful servant you’re merely his puppet?”
He surged forward, setting his hands on my shoulders, startling me into staring up at his face. Warmth lurked in the depths of his gaze, sparking a foolish, lingering ember of hope in my heart. “I didn’t like that he put his hands on you,” Garrick confessed, his words a growl. It reminded me of his wolf side, and it made my skin prickle. “I—” He struggled to speak. “I hate what he does to you. I wanted to break his fingers one by one.”
Don’t believe him, I urged myself, even as my heart thundered at his touch, at the look in his eyes. The coldness was melting away, exposing something raw and vulnerable. Something that looked like...concern. Maybe even more.
I shook my head, both to clear it and to deny his words. “Then why didn’t you? Why serve them at all? Why not help me escape to Ashwood as we’d planned?”
Sorrow pooled in Garrick’s eyes. “There is no escaping.”
“Because you’re keeping me here on their orders.”
He grasped my shoulders more tightly, and I froze, staring into his eyes. “There is no escaping for either of us. They have many hunters. You met some of them—were injured by one.”
My mind tried to comprehend his words. No escaping for either of us. Wasn’t he a willing servant?
Garrick’s fingers curled into the fabric of my sleeves, holding me firmly. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold me close or restrain me. “I’m not saying to never run. I’m only saying that tonight—tonight I don’t know if even you could make it. Not when the entire city is waiting to see you. And now that word is spreading about your Silverfrost blood...the other kingdoms might not be so friendly.”
My breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
“Every kingdom in Brytwilde has a tenuous relationship with one another. Many fae crave power—a taste of magic makes them want more, and any royal who overtook another kingdom’s throne would gain some of the magic of that land. It means, though we trade peacefully to share resources and send diplomats and play at polite politics often, we are often at war with various kingdoms, just like we’re at war with Ashwood now. It means that no kingdom would ever trust the ruler of another if they set foot unannounced on their land.”
“So Ashwood might not welcome me?”
Garrick’s brow pinched. “It’s hard to be certain, but they would have as many reasons to suspect you as to believe you. It was uncertain enough when you were a human crossing the border while they’re at war. But now that you’re the rightful queen of the kingdom they’re fighting? You could be running toward new enemies.”
The world spun, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the way my corset pinched my painful ribs, turning my breaths shallow, or from my own fear. I felt more trapped than ever before. If I escaped, I could very well be running from one deadly situation to another. If I survived the harsh climate with only the barely-formed skills Garrick had taught me.
Garrick released my shoulders and stepped back, ducking to peer into my face, but I avoided him, stumbling back and leaning against the windowsill. My ribs throbbed. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think clearly. “Are you truly their prisoner, or are you trying to confuse me?”
There was a pause. “I’m limited in what I can say—and when,” Garrick confessed. “I...” His voice trailed off.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said at last, not meeting his gaze. “I’d rather take a chance than stay. Staying here will be certain death.”
“You’re a Silverfrost. I saw your magic. You’ll be able to fend off any underworld creature.”
“Preston and Nerissa are suppressing my magic!” The force of my raised voice made my corset strain against my skin even more, and I winced.
“That’s impossible. They told me they wouldn’t, as that would prevent our ability to perform a true test, and fae cannot lie.”
I finally met Garrick’s gaze, finding his mask firmly back in place, the warmth leached from his eyes. I wanted to scream. Who was he? What was true and what was false? What was trickery and what was real? “If you don’t help me escape, my blood will be on your hands. If our friendship ever meant anything to you—”
“I am bound to serve them, Ren,” Garrick ground out.“They’re my sovereigns.”
“If you think I’m a true Silverfrost, would that not make you duty-bound to me?”
Garrick studied me helplessly. “When a fae vow is made, it is an unbreakable thing.”
“You made a vow?” I demanded. Was that why he’d chosen to betray me? Why he served his cruel master and mistress so faithfully, even though their ways seemed unlike what the man who’d trained and protected me would support? Why he turned into another person when in their vicinity—this cold, emotionless version of himself?
Garrick didn’t speak, only continued to stare, a muscle working in his jaw.
I narrowed my eyes. “Do they have some hold over you? A spell? Something stronger than glamour?”
Again, Garrick was silent. But his silence and the pleading look that had entered his eyes was answer enough.Maybe part of the hold the siblings had over him forbade him to speak of it, but he still couldn’t lie. And if he couldn’t lie and claim they weren’t using him...they were.
But that didn’t change my circumstances. It only solidified the fact that I couldn’t trust Garrick.
I spun, undoing the window latch to slide it open. Biting wind swirled into the room and cooled my heated skin as I leaned out, finding the drop to the ground below wasn’t too far.Though I knew I couldn’t escape with Garrick here, I could test his allegiance, once and for all.
“What are you doing?” Garrick’s footsteps thundered behind me as I did my best to swing my leg over the sill. The corset tightened even further, until it was more like a vice around me, half-strangling my breath. I swayed, spots dancing across my vision.
Just as I expected, Garrick’s arms wound around me, yanking me into the room. Holding me upright with one arm securely around my waist, he used his free hand to close the window and secure the latch.He was gentle about it, but in this moment, willing or not, he was still my captor.
“You have to...fight it,” I choked out, my breathing too rapid. “Let me...go. Fight whatever hold they have on you. You can’t leave me to die.”
“It’s an honor to serve them, the same as it is an honor to undergo a trial and prove you’re a Silverfrost.” Garrick’s voice was low again, dangerous. And I had the strange sense his words weren’t even his own. He pulled away, scanning me and frowning. “Why can’t you breathe?”
Frustration flared inside me. Quiet, kind Florentia. That side of my personality that had served me in the human world would do no good here, in this moment. Though a part of me hated the very idea of controlling Garrick without his permission, just as others were doing, I was desperate. And I was no longer in my spelled rooms, which meant I should be able to use glamour—glamour that would work on him. “You need to let me go,” I said calmly. “Lead me safely to Ashwood. Let no one see us escape.”
For a moment, Garrick stared at me, brow pinched. No glazed look entered his eyes. No sign that he felt stirred to listen. Then he scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “Your glamour can’t work against...” He hesitated, as if searching for words he was permitted to speak. “Their rules.”
My hope withered. But it made sense. Of course the siblings wouldn’t have dared to make Garrick my bodyguard unless they were certain I could never glamour him. Whatever power they held over him was somehow more powerful, more unbreakable, rendering mine ineffective.
Instead, I took advantage of Garrick’s distraction and bolted toward the door. But spots continued to flash in my sight, and I stumbled, barely catching myself by seizing the bed post. My chest heaved, every breath sending agony through my bones.
Behind me, Garrick swore as his footsteps stalked closer. “Hold still.” There was the hiss of a blade being drawn from its sheath, and my heart staggered in fear. I tried to whirl and face him, but he coiled one arm around my waist, holding me in an iron grip. I thrashed, and he sighed. “Hold still,” he repeated. “Unless you want me to cut you.” His voice was tender, more like the man I remembered, like maybe in this moment he was himself and not whatever Preston and Nerissa made him to be.
I obeyed, relaxing my body against his. Something slid beneath my corset, the sound of fabric and ties snapping and coming undone accompanied by a sudden release. The constraining pressure against my ribs vanished as my ruined corset fell to the floor. I took a deep breath, my head clearing as air flooded my aching lungs.
“Who bound you so tightly?” Garrick demanded.
His arm loosened, letting me face him. His free hand sheathed his hunting knife at his hip while his other continued to grasp my waist, as if expecting me to collapse again.
“Isolde, the healer.”
Garrick’s scowl deepened. “Seems she did a shoddy healing job. May I...” He hesitated. “Could I check your ribs?”
My cheeks flamed. “I’m not undressing for you.”
His eyes widened. “I wasn’t asking you to. I was going to do the undressing.”
“What?”
Garrick shook his head. “Not like that. I’ll only unbutton the back of your dress enough to check the bruising around your ribs. Unless Isolde added a hundred more layers under that outfit?”
I shook my head, still speechless, my face too hot.
“Starlight,” Garrick said, his voice softening. Compassion shone in his eyes. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I’m trying to help you.”
Slowly, I nodded and turned around.
Garrick sighed, his breath warm on the back of my neck as he began unbuttoning. Every muscle in my body tensed, but I was in enough pain that I couldn’t protest anymore. If he could help me, I would accept that. It wasn’t as if I could escape very far in my condition.
When he’d unbuttoned me all the way to my lower back, he paused, kneeling to inspect my skin and hissing. His calloused fingertips skimmed along my side, softly enough not to hurt. I swallowed my gasp, not wanting him to hear me. That would have been embarrassing.
“It looks awful,” he muttered. “Fae magic should have healed you more than this by now. You can’t fight like this.” He stood, circling me to look me in the eyes. “I’m fetching a healer.” He hesitated. “Just because I’m not in the room, doesn’t mean I can’t stop you. I have orders.”
Garrick’s fingers caressed my neck, so lightly the touch seemed like an accident.
I nodded sadly. Waves of exhaustion swept over me, and I teetered on my feet.
Noting my unsteady legs, Garrick wrapped one arm beneath my knees and another under my lower back, his warm fingers splayed against my bare skin. I tried to ignore the way my heart and body reacted all at once. “You’re so soft,” he whispered, but my thoughts were hazy, and I was sure I was imagining it. He held me close to his chest as he carried me to the bed, gently laying me down.
Bleary, I blinked my eyes at him, startled when he took my hand in his tenderly. I was sinking into exhaustion, and I wanted to welcome blissful unconsciousness rather than continue to feel the pain shooting through my ribs. Even my earlier fear seemed distant.
“The healer will help,” Garrick murmured. “I’m sorry, Starlight.”
I’m sorry, Starlight. I jolted awake as agony tore through my body.
A fae woman with large, owlish eyes and snowy feathers for hair hovered over me. Crying out, I thrashed in the bed, instinctively trying to slap her away. “If you want to heal, Your Majesty,” she said through gritted teeth, “you’ll hold still. Otherwise, I’ll have him put you to sleep again.”
Again? Betrayal slammed through me as my thoughts fully cleared. My eyes found Garrick on the other side of the bed, his face once again expressionless. How had he drugged me?
The pain in my ribs was swiftly melting into a soothing warmth, helping me to breathe easily. The owl-like woman glanced at Garrick. “Why didn’t their healer do her job correctly?”
“I’ll talk to the king and queen about it,” Garrick said.
The woman scowled. “You’d better. This woman might be trapped in a frail human body, but that means we need to protect her all the more. She’s our only hope, hunter.”
“I know this.” This time, Garrick’s tone was a growl. “Why do you think I’m tasked with guarding her?”
Something flashed in the woman’s eyes, like suspicion and dislike. Maybe she had the same thought that I did: that Isolde hadn’t fully healed me because the king and queen had commanded her not to. That they wanted me to look weak, so they could remain powerful.
I wanted to seize the healer’s hand, to beg her to stay and help me. She was on my side.
But then she continued speaking. “I have a potion to help inspire wakefulness. It’s a drug one should only use sparingly, but a small dose of it should be enough to keep her awake to perform her trial.” Her eyes shot to me. “You’ll be healed enough for tonight. Prove you are truly worthy of the throne, mortal. I lost my closest friends and two children to those bloody underworld creatures. We need you to seal that door once and for all.”
My hope dulled. Of course, even the citizens who were eager to welcome and help me still wanted something from me. They’d never let me escape. Everyone in this accursed city would do everything they could to throw me into the next arena, the next deadly trial.
Worse still, exhaustion from being healed was making my limbs turn leaden and my eyelids grow heavy already. I would be in no condition to flee. They’d only drug me to wake me just in time to drag me to the next test. To my death.
I was doomed.