11. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Isoria
I crossed my arms, noticing that the action didn’t cause much pain in my abdomen. Apparently the sensation was beginning to wear off, a blessed relief after the agony of the walk here. “That’s the best you can think of?”
Archer scrubbed a hand over his face, like he was absolutely exhausted.
Given the conditions I’d found him in and the toll the effects of healing would have had on his body, I imagined he had to be.
“It’s the best way to keep us close to each other and ensure your protection.
No one will question why you’re in my quarters, and no one in their right mind would threaten you.
Even my own father would have to consider the political ramifications of going against his heir’s bride. ”
Bride. My lungs refused to take in air. “I really think—”
“I’m not interested in a fire demon’s opinion,” Archer interrupted. “There’s a guest room you can sleep in. Tomorrow, you’ll answer my questions.”
Before I could reply, he spun on his heel and strode further into his quarters, tugging off his shirt as he went. His shoulders slumped, belying his exhaustion and making me wonder how far he’d had to carry me through the capital.
I trailed after him, determined to have as many answers as I could before he collapsed.
Unlike the rest of the castle, Archer’s rooms were cozy and welcoming—if I’d wanted to be in them.
Dark wood and thick rugs made the space luxurious, while artwork and windows with the curtains wide open permitted plenty of color and light.
Plus, his quarters seemed endless, larger than my entire treehouse, with room after room full of anything someone could possibly ever need or want.
We passed through a sitting room that led to a private guest wing containing a vast bedroom and a washroom with a tub larger than my entire room back home.
Next was an expansive library with floor-to-ceiling shelves, a writing desk covered in stacks of books and papers, windows open to the floral-perfumed night, and alcoves with huge armchairs.
Beyond that was a gorgeous kitchen of sleek carved cabinetry and polished countertops with a fully stocked adjoining pantry, a dining room, a hallway full of closed doors hiding rooms whose contents I couldn’t even imagine, and, finally, the prince’s rooms themselves, from another sitting room to his sleeping quarters in shades of red and gold, which, from a quick glance around, looked like they also contained a walk-in closet and private washroom.
If I hadn’t been reeling from this supposed blood bond, I might have had room for more awe and appreciation.
As a guest, I could imagine endless days of baking in that stunning kitchen and tucking myself into one of the plush armchairs in the personal library for hours with a book and a few freshly-baked treats.
Each window offered views of the lush castle gardens, and, if no one had cared what I was, I could have leapt from them and shifted, taking flight among the climbing jasmine and sprinkling fountains.
But that was a fantasy. This was nothing but a comfortable prison.
Archer collapsed on the edge of his bed, staring into the empty hearth on the opposite hall, his eyes heavy-lidded. “See?” he waved about vaguely, making me think of an intoxicated reveler at the end of a party. “Plenty of room for us to avoid one another as often as possible.”
Indeed, he had enough space to make me wonder if he ventured outside these rooms often. Surely he had responsibilities as the crown prince, but it would be fairly easy to hide away from the world here.
Archer flopped onto his back, sprawling gracelessly across his bed. Or at least, it should have been a graceless look, yet somehow, with his long legs stretched out and his muscular torso on display, it looked oddly elegant.
I looked away, annoyed. “What else did you learn about blood bonds?” I demanded. A thousand questions were needling at me like pesky mosquitoes. I had to know everything, had to know if there was some way to break this accursed tether.
“Nothing so important we can’t sleep before I share it,” the prince drawled, closing his eyes.
He didn’t bother to cover his yawn. “I can explain in the morning. As it is, I’m sick of your presence.
Being this close to you is an evil I won’t endure more than necessary.
” He cracked his eyes a sliver as he gestured toward the entrance of his room and in the direction of the guest room we’d passed earlier.
“Promise you won’t leave my quarters, and then be gone. ”
I narrowed my gaze as I felt the compulsion to speak the truth flutter in my chest. My mind sifted through ideas, trying to find a loophole so I wouldn’t be tethered to a promise I didn’t want to keep. “I vow not to leave your quarters tonight.”
“Until I give you permission. Say it.” His smile was cruel, victory shining in his eyes.
But he couldn’t force me to speak. Maybe I couldn’t lie, and maybe I was bound to my vows, but I wasn’t tethered to serving him.
“I’m not your puppet. I’m not one of your people, seeing as you’d rather have me dead.
” Anger simmered beneath my skin and I sucked in a heavy breath, the first deep breath I’d managed since healing him.
It was refreshing, a wondrous relief that let me know the pain was finally leaching out of my body.
Archer crossed his arms. “Maybe you want to die. I don’t think we can venture more than a mile from one another, and wandering the castle alone wouldn’t be your best idea.”
I narrowed my eyes. A mile? Part of me hoped he was lying about that aspect of the blood bond, but considering he was as reluctant to be trapped with me as I was with him, I doubted it. “I will not leave your quarters at this time.”
Cracking a lazy smile, Archer tucked his hands beneath his head and closed his eyes once more. “Stubborn fire demon. It’s for your own protection, as you’ll see soon enough, if you’re foolish enough to leave. You’re dismissed from my bedroom.”
Though I wasn’t entirely convinced about our blood bond yet—or at least the aspect that forced us together—I knew Archer was right.
Leaving his quarters alone was essentially a death sentence if I ran into the king and he read my mind.
But it didn’t mean sneaking out was impossible.
I clung to that hope, telling myself that once I regained my strength, I’d find my way back home.
That being trapped in Archer’s vicinity with this so-called blood bond was a lie he’d contrived.
With that hope tucked in my heart, I made my way back to the extra bedroom.
As I walked, I considered my whole reason for leaving Everhaven and the fact that I’d lost hope of getting an answer at Solea's temple. Maybe there would be an answer in one of the castle’s vast libraries, some history we phoenix shifters had lost while living in hiding.
Or what if it really was a curse that Prince Archer himself had cast?
Perhaps if I couldn’t leave immediately, I could try to make the most of my time trapped here and find some answers.
When I entered the guest room, despite essentially being a prisoner, I smiled at the sight.
It was dark and luxurious, like the rest of his rooms, and my weary body rejoiced.
I wondered why he had guest quarters in the first place, or if they had been added to his wing with the intention of giving a potential spouse or lover a space of their own.
The heavy curtains were drawn, leaving me in peaceful solitude.
Digging deep into the last dregs of my magic, I approached the hearth and conjured enough orange sparks for the logs within to catch fire.
Once there was a low-burning fire in the hearth, I turned to scan my surroundings.
With my pain nearly alleviated, I found enough energy to force myself to explore the room in depth.
I checked for hidden entrances and exits, peepholes, or anything else I’d want to know about.
There was an adjoining walk-in closet, but it was nearly empty, with only a few odd shirts and trousers folded in a corner, as if Archer had placed them there and forgotten about them.
The attached washroom, however, was fully supplied with a variety of scented soaps, lotions, and plush towels.
Stifling a yawn, I opted for a hot bath before sleep, something to soothe my aching muscles after the hours of flying and walking and then enduring the agonizing price of healing Archer.
Lighting several candles, I filled the tub until its surface was steaming and covered in vanilla-scented bubbles, tugged off my travelworn leggings and tunic, and sank into the water.
I scrubbed every inch of my skin, ensuring any lingering blood or dirt from my encounter with Archer in the cemetery was washed away.
My body relaxed in the heat and the last of my pain eased, enough that I was able to summon enough energy to conjure some sparks of my own, keeping them small and safely floating over the water where they couldn’t catch anything in the room aflame.
It was comforting, a reminder of home. Blinking at the burning in my eyes, I exited the tub, dried off, and found the largest, most comfortable shirt in the closet to sleep in.
As I returned to the bedroom, I started when I found a cat stretched across the coverlet. All black save for a single white star-shaped mark on its chest, it blinked lazy golden eyes at me. Like I was the intruder.
I cocked my head, studying it. “Archer didn’t strike me as an animal person.” Or a warm person at all, for that matter. Extending a hand, I let the cat sniff my fingers, waiting to see if it would retreat or stay.
When it didn’t move, I gave it a few caresses, relishing its soft fur. It was a small comfort to have this companion, at least. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you,” I murmured, pulling back one side of the coverlet.
The cat’s only response as I settled under the blankets was to purr and start to stir. With a lazy stretch, it stood and settled itself closer to me, allowing me to pet it.
Soothed by its warmth and the rumbling in its belly, I drifted off to sleep.