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"I do." Now I can't keep the wicked grin from my face, the ensuing torture Elva will be in making me nearly giddy. Her fury is sure to be utterly delicious and I cannot wait to see how she throws it at me.
Shan's face hides nothing. He might not particularly care for our guest, but he knows my jovial mood can only mean something terrible is coming for her. "And are you going to share your plan with me?"
"You'll hear of it soon enough," I tell him. "She's nearly here."
And then the doors swing open, a barefoot, furious little drunk standing on the other side, waiting to unleash her rage on me. A shudder of excitement travels through me at the sight of her vengeful glare and I prepare for another exquisite, intoxicating volley of insults.
"Excellent timing," I announce, slowing her furious steps. "We were just discussing what we would be doing with you."
Eight
Elva
Bad.
Very bad.
It started with one drink with dinner. But the carafe was so big, and the wine was so good. I had nowhere to store it to keep it cold, so what was I to do?
And now here I am hours later, pacing my room, fuming because how fucking dare he? How dare he orchestrate a whole attack, acting like we were... friendly, just to catch me unaware. How dare he be such a coward? He could have killed me himself at any time, but instead, he sent someone else to do it?
I've nearly walked a path into the plush, dark blue carpet beneath my feet, debating on what to do now that I've figured out his ridiculous plot. I should just confront him. Surely, he won't be expecting me to barge in there knowing what I know. He'll expect me to hide. Cower. But, no. If only the villains survive here, that's just what I'll be.
Using all my strength, I jerk open the massive doors, nearly stumbling when they swing further open than expected. Recovering my balance, I demand to the guards outside my room, "Where's King Kairon?"
They both turn to look at me, saying nothing before they face ahead again, ignoring my question.
"Take me to him. I need to speak—" I hiccup, "need to speak to him right now," I add, before remembering not to be an ass because they are not the ones my anger is directed at. "Please."
Still, they refuse to answer, pushing me further into my fury.
I sigh, anger blurring my vision. "Fine. I'll find my way there myself."
They look at me again, refusing to answer, but at least they're acknowledging me, I suppose. In perfect sync, they walk, and I barely hold back a sigh of relief. I follow behind them, and within a few steps, a handful of other silent guardians join us, caging me in.
The stairs prove to be incredibly treacherous and terribly cold. I didn't even think to put on shoes before demanding to see King Kairon, but it doesn't matter. I don't need my feet covered to give that giant asshole a piece of my mind.
Walking through the castle at night is like entering an entirely new world. The stained glass windows that create such tapestries during the day paint nightmares with just the light of the moon. Long shadows stretch from the wall sconces, and the distant waves crashing create an ominous warning to anyone who might enter here.
This is the castle I imagined the king would occupy.
Dark, colorless, with shadowy corners that could hide any sin.
When I can tear my eyes away from the terrifying home around me, I realize we've gone even further down than I've been thus far. The air down here is wet and frigid, the floor nearly threatening to crumble underneath my toes. The only light comes from the candles around me, and I have to watch the ground to ensure I don't trip and fall.
They finally come to a stop before another ridiculous set of double doors engraved with the mask I've seen only in my nightmares when preparing to come to this place. The two guards in front of me open the doors, and I storm inside without so much as waiting for them to announce me.
"Excellent timing," King Kairon says, pulling me to a stop. "We were just discussing what we would be doing with you."
My eyes dart around, looking for who he speaks of when he says we. When I spot Shan, I almost wish I hadn't. His face looks so remorseful, and I fear what fate the king has in store for me.
Letting myself forget our audience for the moment, I turn my fury onto the king. "You planned this."
His brows raise, and he pauses, thoroughly looking me over before he speaks again, "Shan, give us the room."
"Your Majesty, maybe—" Shan begins, only to be stopped by the king's right palm raising to silence him. "Yes, sire." He stands from his chair before the king's desk, hastily leaving the room. But not before giving me one last glance, full of pity that makes me sick to my stomach.
The doors behind me slam as I meet the king's gaze again. He seems entirely unfazed by my interruption, even less so by my fury.
