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Every time he stepped, that ghost of a grimace played on his face. It was all a game to him. I clamped my teeth down, not wanting to give him the pleasure of a sigh or a scowl. I was sure it shone through my eyes anyway with how his lips curled in a slight victory.
This could not be happening. I needed to leave. There was the side passage, but that was clearly visible. If I was to slip behind the old tapestry that concealed it, I knew that this man would not keep its location a secret.
I tried again, but he kept shifting his body to match my own.
I had been a prisoner for years. It was not my first time to be locked in my rooms, but this was the first time I had been truly trapped in my rooms. I couldn’t get out. That trapped animal feeling coiled over my spine, my breathing picking up as all of that heat rushed over me, burning across the skin where the bracelet lay.
I lifted my hand, if the magic would erupt now it would definitely get me out of there, but again nothing happened but a tiny spark of light that he didn’t seem to notice.
I tried to move past him again, and again he stepped before me.
So much for not giving him the pleasure of rattling me.
“Move!” It was a yell, my breathing coming in sharp gasps as I dodged again, ready to heave him out of the way and make my escape down the hall. I knew enough about the Runturin that I could outrun him.
Grabbing his shoulder, I gave one big push only to be thrown back by a bolt of lightning that lashed over my cheek as the back of his hand made a hard impact with my jaw.
I shuffled back, my boots going out from under me as I slammed into the chaise.
My cheek burned, my jaw aching as I looked up to the man, his eyes were not even on me. He was back to staring forward, the corners of his lips upturned. I had never been hit before, not like that. I was the princess, you weren’t supposed to hit a princess.
You weren’t supposed to trap them in their rooms either. Something had changed.
He enjoyed hitting me. He would do it again.
“You may not leave,” he said, his voice harsh and low as he continued to stare forward. “I have been ordered to do all in my power to keep you here. To use any means necessary.”
I didn’t like the way he was looking at where I lay on the chaise, my skirts up to my knees. I pushed them down in a panic, keeping one hand on my cheek as the burning heat flowered over my face and stung my eyes in tears that I willfully pushed away. All that panicked pressure in my chest grew, the tingling fluttering under my skin as the woven circlet on my wrist warmed.
Refusing to cry, I stood, staring the man down as I flattened my skirts, well aware my cheek was bright red. His focus remained forward, the curve in his lips reappearing.
Batian’s words from the night before screamed in my ears, the promise to lock me in there alone and trap me away forever suddenly far too real. I had a good idea who had put me there. I wasn’t the only promise Batian had made last night, after all.
Which meant I knew where the Boy was.
My stomach knotted at the realization. It wasn’t right, none of it was right. It wasn’t right to lock me up, it wasn’t right for them to treat the Boy that way. We needed to leave, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen now. I needed another plan.
Wordlessly, I left the sitting area of my room, shutting and locking the door to my bedroom. Locking myself in my own cage.
I don’t know how many hours I sat there, staring at the lock on my door as I planned out how to escape. How to get the Boy and I out of the Runturin, to find a way to send notice to my father. I dreamed of some farm that we would run, of animals and open skies. I needed to get my father there too. I let the imagery flood me as the sun set, and the shadows of the bars that covered my windows became long stripes over my floor. It was only when the sun had nearly dipped below the Luftyn mountains that I heard the door to my rooms creak open and heavy boots thunder in. The floor rattled at the thunderous entrance, at least two pairs of boots stomping in. Someone laughed, the sound harsh and angry.
That wasn’t the Boy.
By the Goddess, it better not be more of them.
Dropping to my knees, I placed my eye against the keyhole, the shimmying shapes of three more black clad men coming into view. Their capes rippled behind them, the white snakes on their tunics the only thing I could make out as they moved like shadows through my room, depositing a fourth shadow onto the chaise.
“Remember what we promised, Boy,” one of the black clad soldiers snarled, streaks of blonde hair covering his face and a hooked nose as angular as the rest of his features as he leaned over the writhing figure of the Boy on the chaise.
Even from the other side of the door I could hear the moans, I could smell the blood in the air.
My fingers pressed against the wooden panel, heat whispering over my skin as everything grew warm.
“Here, Silas.” One of the guards said, handing the blonde one, Silas, what looked like the end of a whip. My bones turned molten.
“This is your last chance. You step out of line again and we will rip you limb from limb. Don’t make our Queen regret pulling you out of that gutter you came from,” Silas snarled, holding what was clearly the blunt and bloodied end of a whip above his head.
“I… didn’t…” Even though I had only heard that voice for the first time last night, I knew it, the sobs that lined those few words made my heart stop.
