8. Bryony
brYONY
The silence after the gate closed lasted three seconds.
Then the court began moving around us.
The red seal spread over the bars until they looked welded into the arch. More lamps woke inside the service passage, and water started running somewhere past the open door.
Stellan stayed braced on one hand. The other wrist, both ankles and the chain around his waist remained fixed to the dais. Red marks burned over the iron, but the right cuff still lay open near his knee.
I wanted to check the blood running down his left arm. Walking within reach still wasn’t sensible.
“Can you sit up?”
“In a moment.” He drew a slow breath. “The Claiming tightened the restraints because I used the court against Adrian. It’ll ease once Harrowmere decides I’m not trying to follow him.”
“Are you trying to follow him?”
“Very much. I’m also attached to several tonnes of stone.”
His anger sat hot and sharp inside me. I understood it without needing another explanation of how the connection worked.
I collected the torch and went to the gate. Edith’s old key didn’t fit any part of the new seal. Pulling the bars achieved nothing except making my injured palm throb.
My phone still showed no signal. I stopped the recording, checked that it had saved and turned the phone off to preserve the battery.
I couldn’t send the recording from under Harrowmere, but I kept it. If I reached the house again, Arthur and the police were getting copies before anyone could take the phone from me.
The way upstairs had vanished. Adrian couldn’t reach us, but neither could anyone who might help.
I looked at the service door. “Tell me what’s in there without giving every chair a tragic fucking history.”
Stellan lifted his head. Colour had returned to his face after the flask, although hunger still sharpened his features.
“The royal rooms. A bedroom, bathing room, sitting room and a small kitchen. Harrowmere will provide ordinary food, water and heat because the Claiming needs its heir alive. The rooms may change their appearance to suit you, but they aren’t another test.”
“May?”
“The court hasn’t welcomed anyone for more than a century. Its taste could have improved. The furniture may move. The food won’t bite.”
The short exchange helped. I was still trapped underground with a vampire, a magic crown and a man outside who wanted both. At least I knew where the bathroom was.
“Can you reach the passage?”
Stellan tested the chain around his waist. It stopped him a metre short of the door. “Not yet. I can reach the rear of the throne and part of the dais. If the court changes that, I’ll tell you.”
I lifted Edith’s case onto my shoulder. “I’m checking the rooms. You stay here.”
His eyebrows rose. “You know the chains are why that works.”
“I meant I’m not opening anything else while I’m gone.”
He nodded once.
I walked into the passage with the torch raised. It ran straight for several metres, then opened into a sitting room. Stellan remained visible from the doorway, and the room contained no hidden corners large enough for someone to wait in.
A fire burned behind a black iron grate. Two chairs stood beside it with a low table between them. The walls were pale stone instead of the throne room’s black, and a thick red rug covered the floor.
The furniture didn’t move.
I counted that as a success.
Three doors opened from the sitting room.
The first led to a bedroom with a bed wide enough for four people and curtains thick enough to stop a bullet.
A wardrobe occupied one wall. The second room held a deep stone bath, a shower and shelves stacked with clean towels. The third contained a narrow kitchen.
A covered plate waited on the table beside bread, cheese and a pot of tea. Steam still rose from the spout.
The court had trapped me, threatened me with a crown and left afternoon tea waiting.
I trusted the locks more than the hospitality.
I checked each door and found a working lock on the bedroom. The kitchen held knives, heavy pans and enough food for several meals. A tap ran clear water into a stone sink. There were no windows or other exits.
I returned to the sitting-room entrance. “How do I know the food is safe?”
“The court can’t complete a Claiming with a dead heir.
It might irritate you, frighten you or tempt you towards the Crown, but it won’t poison your dinner.
You can eat anything it puts in the kitchen.
The water is safe, the locks belong to the heir, and no one outside can open the bedroom door while the Claiming holds. ”
“Comforting.”
“I’ve had a long time to work on my bedside manner.”
“You haven’t had a bed.”
He glanced towards the enormous one behind me. “Harrowmere appears keen to correct that.”
Heat moved low in my stomach. Stellan’s eyes darkened as he felt the response, but he didn’t add another comment.
That restraint was more effective than a joke would have been.
I closed the sitting-room door and tested the lock from both sides. The key turned easily, and a solid bolt slid into place from inside. If Stellan’s reach changed, I could shut myself in the suite.
The bathing room supplied a small wooden box when I asked for bandages. I set my phone, the old key and Edith’s case on a shelf where nothing could touch them without crossing the room.
Warm water washed the dried blood from my palm. The cut was shallow but angry after Adrian’s grip and the throne seal. I cleaned it, wrapped it tightly and scrubbed every trace of blood from my skin.
Stellan’s hunger eased once the scent disappeared.
His relief reached me anyway.
I changed into a clean cream jumper and black trousers from the wardrobe. Both fitted perfectly. My boots waited beside the bath after I’d been certain I’d left them in the bedroom.
“Don’t fucking start.”
The fire crackled in response.
I carried a jug of water, two cups, a blanket and the plate of food back towards the throne room. The sitting-room door stayed open behind me, giving me a clear route to the lock.
Stellan had managed to sit against the dais. His free arm rested over one raised knee. The pose would have looked relaxed if the rest of him wasn’t covered in chains and blood.
His attention went straight to my bandaged hand.
“It’s clean and covered,” I said. “The cut isn’t deep.”
“Adrian hurt you.”
“He fucking annoyed me. The throne did most of the damage.”
Stellan’s gaze stayed on the bandage. “He used your injury to trigger a Claiming you’d refused. Lenora stopped him doing worse, but she still brought him into the room.”
“You don’t trust her.”
“I trusted her once. She served me, then helped Edith close these chains after Cecily died. Today she warned you and challenged Adrian. I don’t know which choice was hers and which one he forced.”
I let the history sit between us.
I stopped outside the reach he’d shown me and rolled one cup across the stone. He caught it with his free hand.
“Water won’t help the hunger,” he said.
“It’ll help everything else. Drink it.”
He looked at the cup, then at me. “Ask rather than order where you can. Harrowmere was built to give royal commands weight, and the Claiming has already recognised you.”
I replayed the words. The cup remained steady in his hand, and no new marks had appeared on the chains.
“Did I just force you?”
“No. You gave an ordinary instruction, and I wanted the water. Intent matters. A command becomes dangerous when you expect the court to make me obey.”
“I don’t expect that.”
“Good. Keep it that way, especially if you’re angry or frightened. The Crown will offer certainty because it knows people reach for control when they’re scared.”
I didn’t like any power that required me to monitor the shape of every sentence.
“Then I’ll ask when it matters, and you’ll tell me immediately if the court interferes.
I’m keeping both keys and Edith’s case in the bedroom.
I’m not touching the fucking Crown. I’m also not opening another restraint until I understand what the Claiming is doing. ”
Stellan drank half the cup before answering.
“All sensible. I’ll warn you when my reach, hunger or control changes.
I won’t ask for blood while you’re deciding what you believe, and I won’t enter the rooms unless you invite me after the chains allow it.
One addition: keep the sitting-room door open while you’re awake.
If Adrian finds another way in, I need to hear it. ”
“And when I sleep?”
“Lock the bedroom. Put the kitchen knife where you can reach it. I can hear the service passage from here, and I’ll wake you if anything enters.”
“Do vampires sleep?”
“Yes. Not while a human woman is locked nearby with one of my fucking enemies outside.”
The answer was protective, but it also carried enough hunger to warm my skin.
I sat against the far wall and ate. The soup was hot, the bread fresh and the tea exactly how I took it. Harrowmere knew how much milk I preferred. That bothered me more than moving furniture would have.
Stellan finished the water and set the cup down. He kept his face turned from me while I ate, although I felt his attention whenever I lifted the spoon.
“Does human food make it worse?” I asked.
“No. Your pulse does. Your body is recovering from blood loss, and I can hear the effort in every heartbeat. The stored blood bought me control, not satisfaction.”
“How long will it last?”
“Several hours if the court stays calm. Less if Adrian attacks the seal or Harrowmere tightens the chains again.” He rubbed the raw skin around his open wrist. “You don’t need to solve that tonight. Distance and a locked door remain the safest choice.”
He would suffer most from the distance, but he still advised it.
I finished the soup and carried the dishes back to the kitchen. The court cleaned them when I set them in the sink. I decided not to argue with the first helpful thing it had done.
The bedroom door locked with a heavy click. I put the keys and case under the pillow, placed the largest kitchen knife on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the mattress.
The bed was soft. The room was warm. I could still feel Stellan at the other end of the passage.
Pain came first, dull and steady where the chains held him. Hunger followed, no longer sharp enough to frighten me but too deep to ignore.
He was trying to keep both from reaching me.
That made them harder to dismiss.
I lasted ten minutes before unlocking the door.
Stellan looked towards the passage as I returned with one of the sitting-room chairs. “The bedroom failed to meet your standards?”
“The bedroom is fine. You’re the fucking problem.”
“I did warn you.”
I placed the chair near the service doorway, safely outside his reach, and sat facing him.
“I’m not feeding you tonight. I’m also not leaving you alone while you pretend the hunger isn’t getting worse.
Tell me when your control changes, and I’ll decide what happens next with all available information. ”
His expression lost its amusement. “Staying close will let you feel more of it.”
“I already feel it. At least here I can see whether you’re about to tear a chain out of the wall.”
He looked at the chains.
I stayed in the chair.
He leaned his head back against the dais and closed his eyes.
For a while, the room remained quiet. I watched the red marks fade along the floor. Stellan’s breathing slowed. My own pulse followed it.
Then his free hand closed hard around the edge of the stone.
A copper taste filled my mouth.
My stomach cramped with a hunger that wasn’t mine.
Stellan opened his eyes. His fangs were down.
“It’s getting worse,” he said.