10. Keira
M y heart races as we arrive at the palace, then lodges within my throat as the calloused hands of multiple Royal Guards pull me from my cage and I am swallowed by a cloud of their number.
Capes with the gold emblem of a tree snap before me and the harsh echo of their boots striking stone bounces off the walls.
I am led through corridor after corridor, expecting to be dragged down into dark, dank cells.
Gods, I don’t want to spend even a moment in a dungeon with vermin scurrying at my feet and the tormented cries of long-term prisoners all around me.
We stop before double doors of the palest green, a delicate gold filigree of vines sprouting tiny leaves and blooms across their surface.
Jasper turns a key in its lock, then opens both doors wide and gestures for me to enter.
Beyond is a foyer with white marble tiles and thick matching pillars veined with gold and black.
A wide entrance reveals a sitting room with velvet couches and a chandelier glowing with fire orbs, and a dining room with a heavily lacquered setting in rich, dark wood.
Jasper ushers me in with a firm hand on my shoulder, until we are just out of hearing of the guards waiting in the corridor. He places the cold key in my hand, an ornate thing of twisted gold, and I stare at it with confusion.
“The High Chancellor has not ordered guards to watch your door. This is a blessing and a curse for you, so I suggest you keep it locked at all times. You are a guest here, not a prisoner, but I don’t think I need to tell you that her political guests are not treated very well.”
“How far will she go, Jasper? What has she already done for the bargain to allow the abuses I have endured these past days?”
His eyes slide away from mine, shame creeping across his features.
“I don’t think anything is beneath her. Understand that, my queen, and take care if you do decide to leave these rooms. The less she sees you, the less she will remember you as a toy within her grasp to torment.
” His lips curl downward.“I will offer my protection, but there is only so much I can do without risking my position here.”
A deep fatigue coils within me. “Thank you, Jasper.”
He lingers, on the cusp of saying more, but hesitating. Jasper glances over his shoulder at his men still in the corridor, then leans forward, mouth opening, but his words die on his tongue as his gaze travels past me.
Basil steps into the foyer, the door swinging behind him to reveal a luxurious bedchamber beyond. He was Aldrin’s personal butler. Jasper flinches and stands tall under the other man’s gaze. A strange reaction to a servant from the Captain of the Royal Guard.
Basil holds his gloved hands clasped before him and his back perfectly straight.
There is not a single wrinkle in his gold-embroidered navy button-down jacket.
His aged face depicts complete serenity despite my torn clothes and dirty skin, all my tricks of glamour dropped except the instinctual.
His look is completely manicured, my opposite in this moment, with a neatly cropped white beard and sweeping mustache, and hair that is short on the sides and longer on top, swept back from his face.
“My queen.” Basil bows. “Your bath awaits, as well as clean clothes…if Jasper no longer requires your attention.”
“No. No, my task was to deliver the High Chancellor’s newest guest to her chambers.” Jasper turns and walks from the foyer. I stare after him, sure there is some undercurrent I am missing.
“My lady, if I may?” Basil is suddenly in front of me, gesturing to the key I hold loosely.
I place it in his outstretched hand and he locks the door, then places it in a bowl on an ornamental table next to it.
“As your butler, I am the only other person who has a key to these chambers. You are important to Aldrin, therefore you are important to me.”
I nod dumbly, my head spinning.
Basil holds out an arm toward the bedroom door. “Your bath, my lady. While you wash, I will bring supper for you.”
I bathe, dress and eat, then slip silently from my chambers, hurrying down the corridors. I don’t know where I am going, but I came here to be a spy, and I cannot do that from a cage or the relative safety of my rooms.
Perhaps I could start at the library. Maybe the academics will speak to me. I might snoop around the Senate house in an attempt to overhear something. Maybe I could find the servants’ quarters and attempt to make friends there. They must overhear so much.
Gods, this was so much easier in Finan’s court when I already had connections. I send a probe to Aldrin, to ask his thoughts, but he is in a deep, drugged sleep. It speaks to the insanity of the last week that the fact doesn’t alarm me as much as it should.
I turn down corridor after corridor, memorizing my way back to my chambers. My mind whirls frantically. I am in over my head. I pass the mouth of another walkway, too distracted to glance down it, and suddenly I am thrust backward by a tight grip around a handful of my hair.
A whimper escapes my lips as pain explodes through my scalp.
My slippered feet scramble for purchase on the slick marble floor, but my attacker throws me back against a wall.
The impact winds me and cracks my head against the tapestry-covered tiles.
My vision blacks out for a heartbeat while I struggle to drag in air, but I am not helpless.
I reach out for the full might of my magic, but hesitate.
If I expose myself now, they will put guards on my door and monitor my every movement, or worse.
I lash out blindly, kicking and punching, but a masculine body crushes against mine, pinning my arms above my head with a single hand. My vision slowly returns as thousands of black dots recede. Large, bony fingers hold my head in place.
“I can see why Aldrin gave it all up for a pretty little thing like you.” Torin’s voice cuts through the roaring in my head. “Maybe I will have a taste too.”
His hot breath curls on my cheek and I turn my face away from him, but he forces it back.
He makes a show of running his gaze across my body, down my gaping neckline and over the bare flesh of my leg exposed by the slit in my gown.
His grip tightens on me as I struggle and a self-satisfied smirk curls his lips.
Torin leans in closer, so his body is flush against mine and his lips touch my ear. “Maybe I will tie you to my bed and make you my plaything.”
My stomach turns and my heart rate ramps up, until I realize there is no hardness pressing into my side.
When he pulls away to soak in my reaction, there is no hint of lust in his eyes.
No, what I see is a small, petty man trying to make himself feel powerful over another.
Using the threat of his sexuality to control and intimidate a woman.
If he thinks I am going to wither up and cower, he is wrong.
I will not be this man’s victim.
Torin’s first mistake is moving far back enough that I can get a leg up between us.
I knee him in the groin with all the force I can muster.
His second mistake is loosening his hold on my arms as his body crumples with agony.
I shove him as hard as I can, throwing a subtle air wield behind my thrust, and he crashes to the ground, letting out a choked groan.
He tries to grab at my legs with one hand while I leap over him, the other still protecting his manhood, but I evade him.
I pause long enough to stomp on his stomach, making him curl right up again.
Then I run like my life depends on it.
The damned silk slippers make me slip across the floor as I pick up momentum, sliding around a corner. I don’t make it to the end of the corridor before Torin’s boots pound on the marble behind me. Every one of my nerves is on fire as I desperately try to outrace him.
A scream erupts from my lips as he yanks me backward by the hair a second time. My abruptly stopped momentum makes my legs slide out from underneath me. The pain of being held up by my hair is excruciating, and he wraps the length of it around his arm, then pins my back against his chest.
“Is that a nasty trick Aldrin taught you?” he growls.
“Yeah. He taught me more if you’d like me to show you?” I elbow him hard in the side, struggling against him, and he wraps an arm around my waist.
“How about I drag you back to my bedchambers and you show me there?” As he leans down again, closing the distance between our heads, I throw mine backward and smash him in the chin.
Torin releases me, letting out a string of curses. I immediately pull away. It is only his vise-like grip around my wrist that stops me from darting off again. I am so gods-damned close to unleashing my magic on him.
“Nasty little human,” Torin spits at me, a red flush creeping up his checks.
“Why would anyone want something as fragile and weak as you? Someone so powerless? There is a reason why we chased all of the humans out of this city. You have no value here. Soon you’ll be another discarded toy my mother has forgotten about, while your mate is as good as dead, trapped in another realm. ”
I open my mouth to spit venom right back at him, but a sudden sting burns my wrist. We both glance down in horror to where his fingers wrap around me.
Ice crystals rapidly form across Torin’s entire hand, growing from a light frost to jagged peaks half an inch thick.
He rips his arm back, shattering the ice and shaking his hand to bring heat back into it.
When he glances over my shoulder, his eyes widen and he backs away from me, holding up his hands.