Chapter 13
T he beast screams and throws its body against the bars, slamming violently against the metal before bouncing back. It accompanies each body slam with a roar that goes straight through my body and freezes it in place.
Angry. Feral. Hungry . My breath quickens.
“What curse is this?” I whisper to myself, eyes fixed on the beast.
As I do so, it throws its head back and roars.Even that sounds twisted, like the screech of metal against metal.
I try opening the door but no matter how hard I pull, it is locked. I suppose it was built to keep the beast at bay, so I would have little chance of breaking through. Resigned, I find the least damp section of the brick floor and sit down. I draw my knees up to my chest and wait for the prince to turn back. I pray the bars hold.
The air is sour, and the beast's screams are punctuated by a dripping dampness on the walls. I squint at the creature through the cage and notice marks on its back. It looks like a large tattoo with swirling black ink, but there is something else in the pattern.
A word in dragon text blazes between its shoulder blades.
I try to get a better glimpse of it, but the beast twists and turns in anger, thumping against the cage. I shiver and wrap my arms around my knees. Absently, I roll my tongue around my mouth to rid it of the metallic taste.
“What a horrid place to be,” I say softly, half thinking out loud and half speaking to the animal in the cage.
It must hear me. Its head swivels to turn a blazing yellow glare onto me. For the first time, it ceases its relentless banging on the bars. But its mouth is still twisted into a snarl, teeth bared. I cock my head to the side, wondering if it can understand me.
“I thought my cage was bad, but I believe yours may be worse,” I tell it, looking around. “And you were cursed at birth, so…” I chew the inside of my cheek, eyebrows furrowed. “How much of your life have you spent here?”
The beast gives a half-hearted roar. It bangs a twisted fist against the cage before slumping down, its back against the bars. Its thick tail flops to the side. The only thing I can hear is its ragged breathing, but I see the glow of its eyes staring at me.
We sit in silence for several minutes. I try to ignore the chill nipping at me and still the quiver in my hands. I am satisfied the bars will hold despite the brute strength of the beast. Eventually, in the silence, my eyelids grow heavy.
It has not made a noise in quite some time and the eerie light of its eyes is extinguished. If I could not see the silhouette of its hulking form laying slumped in the cage, I might think it is not even there. Is it asleep? Does it sleep?
I shift uncomfortably on the ground, my arms wrapped tight around my knees. I am struck by how much more nervous I was to sit across from the king than I am in the presence of this beast. At some point during the long night, I fall into a shallow sleep.
???
I awaken suddenly to a wet snapping. My head shoots up from where I had been resting it on my knees, and I squint blearily at the cage.
Snap.
This time it is followed by a strangled cry, distinctly human. I hastily get to my feet and inch closer to the cage. The orange glow of the torches bathes the beast in light, but…it is not a beast anymore. It is something between animal and man.
There is another painful snap and the prince falls to his knees, hunched over. The bones in his back move and rearrange themselves as he cries out. His scales split to make way for the bloody human skin underneath. His inky black tattoo emerges underneath, and I realise the word in dragon text is hidden amongst the design. The large boils between his scales burst painfully. His face twists and contorts into something more human.
I rush to the bars of the cage, wrapping my hands around them.
“Your Highness?” I call. My voice is laced with worry. I have never seen such painful magic inflicted on another person before.
The prince does not, or cannot, reply. Instead, he sobs violently, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He curls into a ball on the ground.
“Move, please, miss.”
I am startled back by a sudden voice behind me only to see several of the guards have reappeared. One of them jangles a set of heavy-looking keys. A burst of fury erupts in my chest.
“You!” I point at them. “You abandoned him! How could you leave him alone like this?”
The one with the keys shrugs.
“His condition is more beast than man,” he replies evenly. “It does not make a difference.”
“Does not make a…?” I stare at him, mouth open. “You heartless piece of swamp sc um. You are the beast here!”
“Take it up with the king.” The guard sneers before pushing past me. I resist the urge to punch the back of his head and let him open the cage.
The prince has not moved from where he is curled up in a tight ball. Two guards march over and haul him to his feet. He cries out in pain, but they ignore it.
“Careful!” I yell at them.
“Listen, miss,” another guard rounds on me. “This is a regular occurrence around here, so do not get all high and mighty with us. The prince is fine, as he always has been.”
“I did not realise she was so close to the prince,” another guard pipes up, smirking. “One night with him, and she falls at his feet.”
“Do not be absurd,” I snap back. “Only a man bankrupt of empathy would confuse basic compassion for friendship.”
He opens his mouth to retort, but the other guard waves his hand.
“Leave it,” he says, and his tone is final. They drag the prince away.
I take a moment to douse my anger before I say something which will land me in further trouble. The last thing I want is to attract more attention from the king. I scurry after them.
The guards ignore me the entire way, including when they place him back in his bed. For my part, I ignore them back and quietly seethe. By the time the prince is laying in his chambers and the guards are gone, he has regained consciousness.
“Miss Shivani,” he greets me. His voice is strained and weak.
“Your Highness,” I reply and take a seat at his bedside. “How are you feeling?”
The question sounds foolish as soon as it leaves my mouth. The prince responds with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow.
“Fantastic,” he replies. His tone is so dry I burst out laughing. His face cracks into a wide smile, but when he laughs, he winces in pain. I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the laugher.
“Apologies.” I lower my eyes and wipe the smile from my face. “This is no time to laugh.”
“It is always a good time to laugh. Saints, you more than anyone should have more of it.” The prince clutches at his blanket with tight fists but the corners of his mouth curl up in an attempt at a smile.
I sit back and sigh.
“As you do, I am starting to realise.” I run a hand through my hair, catching my fingers on some of the delicate pins.
“Yes, well…Anyway, please make yourself at home. There are books over…” He groans suddenly, holding his ribs.
“Your Highness?” I half-stand.
“It is alright,” he gasps. “Would you…lavender tonic…? ”
He nods at a drawer near the hearth.
“Of course.” I rush to the drawer and retrieve the pain relief for him.
He raises his hand to take it, but seeing the quiver in his arm and the pain twisting his features, I wave his hand away.
“Here.” I bring the bottle to his lips and gently tip it. A thin trickle of the fragrant fluid escapes into his mouth. He accepts it gratefully.
“My thanks,” he murmurs. To my surprise, a tear rolls down his cheek. It cleaves a trail in the blood still caked onto his skin. It is followed by another and then several more. My shoulders sag as I watch the prince stare vacantly at the ceiling, his breathing ragged with pain and tears flowing freely. My heart aches. Without thinking, I reach for his hand and grasp it tight.
His eyes flicker to mine, a dark grey in the dim light. Something tugs at me, something I do not understand.
We sit quietly as the lavender tonic takes over, and he drifts off to sleep. I watch his features smooth, and his chest rise and fall gently. I look at our hands, fingers intertwined. Despite the rest of his body relaxing into a deep slumber, his fingers do not lose their grip on mine.