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I back away, searching the wall behind me for a door. How does she know my name? “We don’t know each other. I can’t help you. I don’t know why you’re here.”
“Because I—” She pauses, her eyes widening. “Go, they are coming. Go!”
A door appears and I fall back through it, tripping and falling on my ass behind the staircase in the ballroom. The door slams shut and disappears. I barely get to my feet before Arden finds me. “Where have you been?”
I don’t answer as he drags me out, so many eyes looking at me, but all I can think about is the woman in the jail cell. How did she know me?
CHAPTER 6
Hope slams her fist straight into my chest, and I go flying across the room, landing in a heap on the floor. I straighten up, wincing from the pain. Fuck, that hurt. That hurt a lot. Hope laughs, barely sweating as she strolls over to me. The sadist loves these combat lessons, where she gets to beat the shit out of everyone. Thankfully, Desmerda blows the whistle on the lesson, and nearly everyone sighs in relief, while Hope looks annoyed.
“I look forward to our next lesson,” she purrs, walking past me as I wipe sweat off my forehead. Arty comes over to me, hobbling and holding her one arm to her chest. “That’s unfair. She was trained her entire life in this world for the race and knows how to fight. The rest of us got British high school, and the most we learnt is how to climb a big rope like a monkey.”
I laugh, taking her offered hand and climbing to my feet. “I’m going to keep doing these lessons until I can beat her. She learnt, so can I.”
Arty shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as stubborn as you.”
Livia runs past us, looking far too happy. I don’t know where she’s been getting her private lessons from, but she’s certainly learning how to fight quicker than any of us. I was partnered with Hope for our lessons in combat, which happen every other day. It’s been six weeks since I was kidnapped. Six, long, pathetic weeks. Hope beats my ass every single lesson, and Desmerda boringly has been teaching us about Ayiolyn. But nothing interesting. I now know about the land, the many cities’ names, and how they were built over the centuries. I’ve learned nothing that would be actually useful against the current dragon kings. We only really learned about their ancestors who met the sorcerer and got played, by the sounds of it.
We head back to our room, where a bottle of silver water tonic is waiting on the pillow like it always is after these lessons. I quickly down the tonic, feeling perfect afterwards. I don’t know what magic’s in it, but as we’ve learnt, the water kingdom are masters at healing, and this tonic comes from them. The Fire Court is known for its army, the best in the world. Air and Earth are more known for magic, creativity, and peace, or so I gathered. We did a whole lesson on the Water Court and how the rivers are meant to glisten like diamonds.
It’s a shame their king is a murderous bastard who’s sleeping with my psychotic roommate. Hope barely sleeps in this room anymore, which is a bonus. She just sneaks out all the time, no doubt sleeping in Lysander’s bed. I haven’t really seen much of the kings, except for when they come to get their dates and take them out for the many, many ball evenings. I’m glad it’s not me going, as it was so boring. Being dragged around by Arden at the ball was dreadful. I’ve snuck out to see Emrys a few times at the rails, but he’s never there, so I gave up a few days ago.
I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, dropping my head to my knees. I could sleep like this.
“Good afternoon,” Matron’s voice fills the air. My head whips up. I see her sometimes around the castle, but she never talks to anyone. She seems to just be watching us. Always watching us. Matron stands in the doorway, her walking stick in front of her. “Come with me now.”
I spot Hope and Livia in the corridor, already waiting. Arty and I share a glance as I get out of the bed and follow after her into the corridor. All of us are sweaty, still wearing black shorts that stop at my thighs and a tight black crop top given to us by the castle on our first combat training lesson. I don’t know who washes the clothes or whether the castle somehow magically gets rid of them and replaces them, but there are always freshly washed clothes at the end of the bed every morning. There are always three meals a day too, with varied options. The castle is looking after us, and it would almost be sweet if I weren’t a prisoner. Livia leans close. “What if it’s another test?”
Goose bumps litter down my spine. I know without a doubt that another test is coming up soon. It’s got to be soon. It’s been six weeks since the last one. I can’t do this right now. I’m tired and I just don’t want to. I don’t have any words to give Livia to make her feel better, as fear swallows up anything I could say. I can’t even tell myself everything is going to be okay. I know it won’t be.
They said that all of this takes a hundred days. We’re running out of time to avoid tests. Not that I want the water test to be anytime soon. I told Arty about the next test being water, trying to give her a heads-up, knowing she would do the same for me. Arty stays close to my side, and weirdly, I’m happy she does. Over the weeks, she has become my friend. She may never stop talking and is sickeningly bubbly, but I like her. I’ve never really had a good friend. But somehow, here we are.
Matron hobbles along, and I have to move quicker to keep up. Even though she’s got a walking stick, she does move fast for an old lady. We go through the dome area, a new door appearing for us. Matron opens the door with just a wave of her hand, and we follow her through a small, green-walled hallway, which leads out to a brick archway at the end. The archway leads to a small, intimate room, the space taken up by a long dining table made of a gold crystal stone.
As I step through the archway, my clothes transform into a long, elegant silver dress. In fact, all of us are left in the same silver dresses when we step through. The dress drapes in back, pooling at my lower back and showing off the tattoo I didn’t want. I’m not wearing a bra or panties by the feel of it, and for some insane reason, that makes me want to laugh. This castle has definitely got a sense of humour.
My good mood disappears when I see who is sitting at the table. The dragon kings and two guests. Arden smirks at me, his long black hair tied at the back of his neck, matching his black suit. I brush a strand of my hair away from my face, realising most of my hair is now in a bun with only a few strands falling down. Arty’s hair is dead straight down her back, covering up her tattoo, and her dress isn’t as low cut as mine. None of them are. What’s up with this dress, castle?
The four dragon kings stand as we enter, and I recognise one of the two women as Emrys’s mother. Next to her is a woman with greying red hair, whose very short, tight curls stop just below her ears in front of her fringe and are clipped back with blue dragon-shaped slides. I would guess she’s about Dorothy’s age, but I wouldn’t know. They’re immortal around here. They live for a very long time and apparently don’t age all that much. When her green eyes meet mine, she reminds me of Lysander. This must be his mum. I wonder if she knows her son is a psychopath. Thankfully, there are a bunch of empty seats away from them on the other side of the table, and I head right to them, only for the chairs to disappear. I glare at the walls nearby. “Not funny,” I hiss.
Arden smirks, running his eyes over my dress. Grayson barely looks at me. Lysander doesn’t take his eyes off me, but in a way that sends shivers down my spine. They’re all watching me, like it’s just us in the room, and I’m not sure what to make of it. The only seat left is opposite him, next to his mother and Emrys. Hope, Livia and Arty found their seats right away, and the castle let them sit anywhere they like.
Lysander’s mother, or my guess she is, smiles at us all. “Welcome. We asked the castle to bring you. I hope you don’t mind. For those who don’t know me here, I’m Queen Consort Meredith of the Water Court and mother to King Lysander. This is my dear friend Queen Consort Dorothy of the Air Court. We are taking turns meeting everyone, as we would like to get to know you in an informal setting.”
“We don’t mind at all,” Hope says, her voice sickly sweet. I raise an eyebrow at that, but she is busy smiling at Meredith while stroking her son’s arm. Lysander is still watching me and not pretending he isn’t. I resist the urge to glare right back at him. “As we are going to be family soon, after all, isn’t it best we have regular meals like this so I know you better? I’ve met you, of course, but it is lovely to see you more.”
“That’s if you survive the next couple of weeks,” Livia dryly comments as she crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “If you keep running your mouth and making enemies, I’m pretty sure someone’s going to spend the entire one of these tests trying to kill you.”
I put my hand up. “That will be me.”
“Bite me,” Hope snaps.
Lysander laughs as an awkward silence fills the room. Hope clears her throat, a pretend smile slapped on her face. “My friends can be really funny.”
Hope continues to try and make small talk with Meredith, and I just look away from all of them. The quicker this meal is over, the better. Forks, knives, and a plate appear in front of me, followed by hot food. I eat a little, pushing other bits aside, feeling them watching me every now and then. I lift my eyes to find Grayson, and god dammit, I nearly choke on a potato. Intense. That’s the word I’d use to describe him, and when he looks at me like this, all that intensity slams into my soul.
Grayson is sitting at the head of the table, his arms crossed, not saying a word or touching his food. I glance at the people who come to take away our plates, their heads bowed, but they have imperfections that give away they aren’t dragon shifters. It’s easy to see the difference now.
