Chapter 8
DAHLIA
Iwake with a start in a bed that isn’t mine. Silky sheets pool beneath my palms, and something lacy bunches at my hips. I glance down to find I’m wearing a thin black nightgown, one I definitely don’t remember putting on.
I shudder. After eating that poisoned meal, I don’t remember anything. I don’t want to think about what might have happened while I slept, so instead I glare at my feet, furious that my pointe shoes have been stolen too. My bare feet slide against the empty bed.
Empty.
I whip my head around the room. My captor is nowhere to be seen. Unless he’s made himself invisible or is hiding under the ornate gothic bed – though I do swing my head over and check just to be sure (he is a monster, after all) – he must have left the tower.
Carefully, I slip out from the sheets and let my feet touch the wooden floor.
His bedchamber looks the same as it did when I first arrived.
A tall black wardrobe stands at one end, while matching dressers line the walls.
Red curtains decorate the wall behind the bed, another set parting on the far side of the room to reveal an impressive arched window that looks out onto a thick blanket of cloud.
It’s night again, of course. Judging by the moon’s position, the sedative he gave me must’ve made me sleep through the entire day.
A sedative. I should’ve known. I was stupid to trust him for even a second.
My stomach gurgles angrily, but I ignore it. No more demon food for me, no matter how delicious it smells. I won’t be eating again until I find a way out of here.
Speaking of…
Sprinting to the bedroom door, I grin when I find it unlocked. The door leading out of his chambers creaks open too, not a single horned guard in sight.
But I take two steps into the hallway before I stop myself. The lacy nightgown I’m wearing barely reaches my rear, and the fabric is so thin I can see the dark outline of my nipples through the lace.
I dart back inside, groaning.
Seconds later, I’m back in the bedroom, throwing open the doors to his wardrobe. Instead of the row of shirts and breeches I expect to see, I’m met with a single gown hanging lazily from the rail along with a pair of black heels.
My mouth becomes a tight line as I pull the gown out.
It’s a deep red shade with a plunging neckline and a long slit down one side of the skirt.
I’ve seen this gown before. I wore it only a week ago at Blossom’s birthday ball.
Except this gown feels far more expensive than the one I wore that night. The fabric shimmers slightly, too.
“Does everything glitter here?” I huff.
Tearing off my nightgown, I throw on the crimson dress and step into the pair of heels. I’m just about to leave when I catch sight of something in the long mirror beside the wardrobe.
Swallowing, I move closer to the mirror. Fitted tightly around my neck is a thin red choker made of some kind of leather. I brush my fingers against it, looking for a clasp or some way to take it off, but the necklace is seamless and fits perfectly against my skin.
“It’s probably just a gift,” I say to myself, not really believing it.
Dread curls in my chest the longer I stare at my reflection, so I turn away, rushing towards the bedroom door. Gift or not, if the Stars are on my side, I’ll be out of his castle long before I have the chance to find out.
The purpose of his ‘gift’ becomes apparent the moment I find the huge stone archway that leads outside.
The moonlit grass is so close. My shoes just cross under the arch when I’m yanked backwards by my neck. Choking, I twist my body around, but whatever grabbed me is gone. I’m alone in the huge corridor, my gasps rattling across the stone walls.
It’s only when I try again, landing on my rear several times, that I realise it’s the necklace.
“Damn you, Tauren.” I claw at it, desperate to rid myself of the foul thing. My fingers can’t seem to hook under it. It must be some kind of spell. It’s as if it’s part of my neck.
I try three more archways before I give up and stomp around the castle.
I’m not alone here anymore. As the moon rises higher, more demons – plainly dressed servants along with more regally clothed nobles – emerge from their chambers to go about their business.
They sweep past me in small bursts of multi-coloured skin and wings, occasionally sliding curious looks my way but never daring to approach me.
I start to wonder if I’m lost as I pass through another tall stone corridor. Familiar paintings of horned nobles decorate the walls, and I’ve definitely seen those tapestries before…
I stare at a particularly awful one with humans hanging from their wrists over a pit of fire, surrounded by various torture instruments. Tilting my head, I wonder whether Tauren has a dungeon of his own when a shrill shout makes me flinch.
“Stop that! Get off me!” A young male voice echoes through the halls. “You can’t keep doing this, Tibalt! It’s not fair.”
“What are you going to do about it?” a deeper voice replies. “Tell on us?” He laughs.
The hallway I’m in is empty, but I follow the sound until I reach a turn in the corridor and slowly peek my head around. Two youngish demons are crowded around a third shorter male.
“What’s wrong, Claren?” a demon with bat wings asks the shorter one. “No mean big brother here to save you?”
“Don’t touch me,” Claren clenches his fists. “You have no right to, ow—” He doubles over as he’s kicked in the belly by the winged demon. The two bullies laugh, but I’m not laughing with them.
“You two are going to stop that right now!” I storm out from my hiding spot.
They spin around. Their clothes are regal, but their youthful faces are pudgy and marked with spots. I suppose even demons have rough teenage years.
“You’re going to leave him alone.” I stop metres from the pair.
“Or what?” Bat Wings spits.
“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” his buddy sneers.
My body tenses. I hadn’t actually thought that far. At home, all it would take is me approaching a gaggle of misbehaving noble children for them to run for the hills. “Umm… well I suppose I could—”
“Wait. She’s a human!” Bat Wings blurts.
“A human?” His friend’s eyes double in size.
“I am indeed.” For a moment, I wonder if demon children are told stories of humans hiding under their beds and eating their souls. “You should be very afraid of me.” I curl my fingers into claws and pull a face.
Their fear turns to confusion until Bat Wings tugs on his buddy’s arm. “We should go. Lord Tauren won’t want us messing with his whore.”
My hands drop. “What did you just call me?”
“She’s the captive bride?” his friend gasps. “But… but shouldn’t she be locked up?”
“She doesn’t need to be. He’s collared her. Look.” He jabs his finger at the choker around my neck, grinning. “She won’t go anywhere he doesn’t want her to be. Like a pet,” he chuckles.
I scowl at him.
“Bye bye, human,” he sneers, dragging his friend down the hallway. “Be a good pet and maybe your master will give you a treat later.”
That’s it. I’m raising my fists when a soft voice touches my side. “Just ignore them. Tibalt’s been a nightmare since his father was exiled.”
I glance over my shoulder to see the short demon, Claren, still hugging his chest against the wall.
I’d forgotten he was even there.
“Are you alright?” I ask. He looks about seventeen, with wavy black hair and pale skin. His features are sharp, and there’s something I recognise about them, but he dips his head before I can get a good look.
“I’m fine.” He stares at the floor. “Don’t worry about those two. The banquet hall’s just opened so they’ll be busy stuffing their faces for the next hour or so. You’ve got time to return to the tower.”
“I’m not worried about me.” I clench my fists. “They shouldn’t be allowed to be cruel like that. Someone ought to put them in their place.”
Claren chuckles. “It’s not their fault. Tibalt is struggling with his father’s punishment and Gill couldn’t pour wine into a glass if the instructions were written on the base of the bottle. It wouldn’t be fair to fight back.”
“It’s not exactly fair to let them bully you.”
He shrugs shyly. “I can take it.”
“Doesn’t mean you should.” I glare at the archway the two demons disappeared through. This whole exchange has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I don’t know whether to chase after them and give my fists the fight they’re now craving or find an alcove to hide in and cry.
My new friend speaks before I can decide. “Did Tauren really put a collar on you?”
I turn back to find him studying the choker around my neck.
“No idea.” I run my fingers over it. “Whatever this is, it won’t let me leave the castle, and I can’t take it off either.”
Claren tilts his head. “He doesn’t want you to run away, I suppose. It makes sense considering why you’re here.” He chews his lip, thinking. “I can loosen the collar a bit for you, if you’d like? You won’t be able to go far, but you’ll be able to leave the castle.”
“You can do that?” I want to hug his skinny shoulders. “Please! I’ll take any help you can give me.”
He gives me a small smile before turning his attention to the collar. Pursing his lips, his brow creases in concentration. A few moments pass until, like a weight lifting from my chest, the choker loosens a little before fitting smoothly against my neck.
“It’s done.” He steps back.
“Oh, thank you, thank you… Claren, was it?” I don’t know the first thing about demon magic, but clearly the boy did something. My body feels light enough to dance down the hallway.
He nods. “I know you’re Princess Dahlia. Everyone’s been talking about you since you arrived. Even Tibalt was—”
“Would you be able to help me with one more thing?” I cut him off, turning my head. The clouds have parted outside, and moonlight spills through the huge windows. I feel a sudden urge to bask in it.
“Depends what you need help with,” he asks warily.
I can’t hide my grin. “Do demons ride horses?”