Page 17 of Between Smoke and Shadow
I don’t respond except for a choked sob.
The prince pulls my hair over my shoulders, and I try to focus my thoughts. If I’m going to die, I have to at least dosomething.He’s going to spin me around, force my eyes open, and drain whatever magic he finds there. I am going to die, but I can at least leave a bruise or a scar or some other mark so Caleah knows what happened. I hope she realizes I never stood a chance in this hallway, and that I chose to fight anyway.
I’ll strike his throat. Run as fast as I can. Pray that I’ve got a secret power in my bones, magic that will reveal itself when I need it the most.
Strike. Run. Pray.
Strike. Run. Pray.
Strike. Run–
Something soft presses over my eyes. The man’s hands rest against the back of my head, tying the fabric over my hair. I’m still facing the wall, but there’s a heavy darkness over my closed eyes. Hesitantly, I open one eye, then the other. It’s complete blackness.
He’s tied some sort of a blindfold.
I blink against the fabric, struggling to understand. How is he going to kill me if I’m wearing a blindfold? Maybe this is some sort of new, sick challenge. Or maybe, he prefers torture over magic.
“Face me,” he says, taking a step back.
I turn slowly, because I don’t know what else to do. If his aim is to confuse me, it’s working. I bend my arms to my chest in a pathetic attempt to shield myself.
“What is your name?” he asks. His voice is too soft, too gentle. This is a trap—I just don’t know how.
My mind is still whirring when he speaks again.
“Mine is Harrick,” he says. “On the honor of my crown, I am not going to harm you.”
“Rune Ealde,” I say finally, because it doesn’t feel like there’s another choice. My words are rasped and painful. “I am Rune Ealde, my prince. Indebted servant. Handmaiden to Lady Saskia.”
Prince Harrick doesn’t respond. He’s quiet long enough that I foolishly hope he’s left.
“And she did this to you?” he asks, making me flinch. “How long have you been here?”
“I do not know, my prince,” I say. I lick my lips, but it does nothing. Even my tongue is dry.
He lets out a harsh breath, like he’s angry. I squeeze my elbows against my ribs, trying to disappear into myself. I wish I could.
“What do you need?” he asks. “Water? Food?”
“I am not to leave this wall,” I say, voice shaking. “I am to wait for Lady Viana’s messenger.”
He doesn’t respond for a long moment. I realize Viana is his girlfriend. Did she tell him I’m here? Is he here to finish her work?
Harrick touches my shoulder, and my entire body clenches. His touch is soft, but I don’t trust it. I wait for his strike or cruel words, feeling unsettled when neither happens.
“Come,” he says. It’s not a question, so I stumble at his side as he leads me back the way he came. I clasp my hands together, picking at my thumbnail until I think it’s bleeding.
We turn this way and that, and I’m trying to memorize every corner. It’s hopeless though. We could be anywhere. The prison, maybe, or if I’m really lucky, the service stairwell.
“Here,” Prince Harrick says. His hand remains on my shoulder as he stops us. “The female washroom.”
I curl my nails into my palm, pressing as hard as I can.
“I am not allowed,” I say finally. My voice is shaking and soft, so much that I doubt he’s heard me. But this is a trap, and if I enter a guards’ restroom, it’ll be his excuse to kill me.
“I am not asking, Rune,” he says. He guides me forward, pushing through a set of doors. There’s a pause. “You are alone here. Wash your face. Drink water. I will wait for you.”
I don’t say anything. My body trembles, rattled by a nausea that only worsens. Prince Harrick drops his hand, and a moment later, the bathroom door opens and closes.
