“Where exactly are we going?” I ask. I figure Respen doesn’t have any rules about me askingthat.
“Guest quarters, Your Highness,” says one of the guards, clearly briefed on who I am.
“Your guests stay here?” I ask, trying not to sound incredulous. It hardly feels hospitable.
“There’s a special wing for visiting dignitaries, Your Highness. They’re just on the other side of these barracks.”
It makes more sense now. I’ve seen firsthand how cunning Respen can be, and the ability to keep his guests at arm’s length—with an entire annex of guards between him and them—certainly keeps him in control.
We’re taking a right turn into a large hall when I hear a noise that makes my blood run cold. A terrible screech carries from one of the chambers off the hall, like steel grinding on bone. As I jerk my head around to find the source, I glimpse a dark, open pit set into the floor of the room.
It’s too deep for me to be able to see the bottom from where I stand, the shadows enveloping whatever made the noise. Still, my entire body recoils, every inch of it telling me that danger lies inside.
“What is that?” I ask the guards. They exchange a look, one shaking his head slightly at the other.
“Apologies, Your Highness, but we’re not supposed to spoil the surprise,” he says, sounding way too pleased about this fact. “It’s part of your test.”
His poorly hidden enjoyment is bad enough, but the concern on the other guard’s face might be worse.
“May I suggest you get a good night’s sleep, Your Highness?” he says, swallowing. “Even the other guards don’t like going in that room. It’s too close to that?—”
“That’s enough, Apios,” the other cuts him off abruptly. “We have our orders.” I don’t miss the smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“You’re really not going to give me any clue at all?” I ask, trying my luck.
“Only that the thing in that room will be…dyingto meet you,” he says, letting his grin spread across his face at last. “It’s eaten pretty badly lately.”
Dread washes over me. I’m an idiot to have accepted Respen’s terms so quickly. If I even hesitated a moment longer, Leon could’ve warned me about what his grandfather was trying to do. But I wanted to look decisive in front of the fae king, show him he couldn’t intimidate me, and I thought a test might even be agood thing. If I could prove to the king that I had the power to help Fairon, maybe I’d actually believe it myself.
Except now I’ve been tricked into some deadly scenario, and all for the sake of a man who’s lied to me this whole time, fucking me while committed to someone else.
Gods, I used to think I was smart, and yet I’ve let this man make a fool of me over and over again. And now I might die because of it.
I haven’t noticed that the decor around us has slowly been getting nicer, until we’re back in a set of hallways that look almost as luxurious and comfortable as the main palace. Nicer even than the rooms at Elmere—less gaudy velvet, more silks and pretty gauzes, suited to the warm climate.
“Here we are, Your Highness.”
They show me into a gorgeous bed chamber with an adjoining washroom peeking through an open door in the corner. Everything is illuminated with soft incendi lights, even though it’s still daytime, bathing the room in a warm, reddish glow.
Which makes me notice the total lack of windows.
I turn to see that there’s a sturdy lock on the door and a deadbolt on the external side. This is just a pretty cage. The fae might treat their visitors lavishly, but they don’t trust them. My thoughts are confirmed when the guard who’s been gloating about my fate produces a large key.
“We’ll be locking you in for the night, Your Highness. We’ve been told that you’re not to communicate with anyone before your test. Someone will be along to bring you food later.”
I nod to show my understanding, listening to the heavy lock click shut after them. There’s probably magic securing the door too, and if they’re used to hosting foreign dignitaries here, there may even be dimane reinforcements. At least I know the others will watch out for Tira. I doubt Respen is as concerned about where she sleeps tonight, so the soldiers will probably find her a room with them.
Once I’m alone and locked away, I let myself feel my emotions again—the fear and hurt and anger. I pick up a cushion embroidered with the Claerwyn-Filusian crest and hurl it across the room. It lands face-up, the crest still sitting there, taunting me.
Three seconds later, it’s a smoking black hole thanks to one of my sun beams. It’s not the most mature response to my situation, but it does make me feel a little better. In fact, Leon is lucky I’m locked up here for tonight, because in my current state of mind, I’m not sure he’d be safe with me on the loose.
It occurs to me then that I’m supposed to be getting something from this mess. Leon and I made a deal. He was supposed to help me kill Oclanna when we were done in Lavail. Now I’m not sure I even want his help anymore. To me, he’s nothing more than an untrustworthy, manipulative conman, like his grandfather. I should be focusing on looking out for Tira and myself, not them.
What if I fail this stupid test tomorrow and leave Tira truly all alone, with no one left to hold her while she mourns?
Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. Screw the fae and all their manipulative, blood-soaked games. Why did I agree to play them in the first place?
And is there anything keeping me from just walking away?
