This is nothing like Soren. I hate everything about this at such a deep level that I can’t even express it.
“You drank your tea?” he asks, eyeing me curiously—almost suspiciously.
“It’s better than having someone sit on me, pinch my nose, and nearly choke to death on it. Which seems to be a common tactic around here.”
“You are abnormally compliant,” he remarks, shutting the door. He’s dressed in very formal attire, his black doublet custom-tailored and striking, with what looks like gold stitching. His dark wool trousers are tucked neatly into knee-high boots, the smallest sword at his hip.
Pompous.
“The tea is supposed to make you groggy, dull the sharpness of you. Not add compliance,” he retorts, a smile in his eyes as if he’s cornered me.“I’m highly suspicious of you.”
I walk to the edge of the bed to sit, bringing my knees together to rest the empty cup on them. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’mbehaving. I’ve seen plenty of kidnappings. Haven’t seen a single outburst that ever saved someone.”
He steps forward, and I watch him carefully as I swear he hasn’t even blinked yet. “Morvock cannot read you,” he states.“Which just makes this all the more confusing.”
“That’s a problem for himself,” I say, knowing the tea is supposed to have an effect on me soon. “He’s already examined me. Said it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to, in order to use me.”
Jesper walks in front of the dwindling fireplace, hands tucked confidently in his pockets. “Should we use your friend? Carve her up? Maybe that’ll get you to reveal yourtrueself.”
Don’t show it. Don’t show any attachment.“For a feast? Are you cannibals, too?”
He narrows his eyes, annoyance clear as day on his face. “I can’t tell if you pretend to be cold, or if you just are.”
“Thereisa draft,” I say, waving my hand around the room, my eyebrow perking for a moment as if to indicate the joke.
He doesn’t laugh; doesn’t even blink or move a damn muscle. At least Bones might have entertained me. Soren would have snorted at the very least.
This is all wrong.
“Well, to test the theory on if you are hard-hearted, orpretendingto be… I have something to show you,” he says, like he’s conducting a very swift transaction. “You see, I have a lot to gain in taming you… but I don’t understand you at all. So, I’ll work with what I know best—fear.”
“If you insist,” is my resigned reply.
He motions for the open door, swinging his hand toward it. I point to myself, still not seeing anyone other than a guard.
“Yes, rise and walk out.”
My shoulders fall, dreading whatever the hells is going to happen. “Not going to tie me up?” I ask, although the weariness in my voice is palpable.
“If you drank that tea, it shouldn’t be a problem,” he quips, his dark eyes hoggishly gleaming.
My heart races and skips multiple beats as I stand,loathinguncertainties.
Jesper takes a step toward me, his eyes wild and primal. “Every single person on this island has been briefed that if they see you unaccompanied by either Morvock, myself, or Blackwell, to immediately apprehend you.” He nears the threshold, his body moving before he takes his gaze off of me. “I want you to realize how I don’t need to wrap you up to keep you here. Morvock insists your compliance is something to becultured. Which means you don’t have to fake that you drank the tea.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Don’t,” he warns. “We can see you pouring it out.”
My heart races, and I want to stab him right in the back for that. My nostrils flare as it’s hard to agree and walk through that threshold willingly. Where would he want to lead me? Will it be to Anya, strung up and bloodied? Or someone else? What if they have Kathleen? Or someone else entirely?
The image of a mangled Soren barely clinging to life nearly makes the room go black as I stand and step forward. Picturing his muscled body as nearly lifeless, displaying the scars I’ve learned to trace in the dark gets me to move, because I’ll do absolutelyanythingto keep him alive.
We descend the stairs that must be two to three stories in height, two landings giving reprieve for the person climbing up them, with bright windows making it almost inviting. It’s a walled-in stairwell, and when we reach the bottom, the ceilings are immediately taller, the walls expanding out for more breathing room.
Oh, I’m not blindfolded.
Don’t draw attention to that. Just observe casually.
