Sir Karst then guided my right arm into the sleeve of a cloak while Sir Regis worked to fit the left. Their movements were efficient, but impersonal, and they were far from gentle. A quiet frustration slowly built inside me.
“If you’d just asked,” I said evenly, “I would’ve done it myself.”
Neither of them responded. Sir Regis reached up to pull the hood over my head.
“I know you made a point of ignoring me before, Sir Karst,” I said tightly. “But I think we’re past that now.”
Just before the hood fell over my face, I caught a glimpse of both the guards’ mouths. Their jaws shared that same damage, the sunken tension I’d first seen in the stewardess. The same clenched stillness. And I knew then what Gadriel had done.
Even as darkness from the cloak fell over me, I turned in his direction, aghast.
“You’ve cut their tongues as well, Gadriel?”
I used his name. The name I had once been afraid to speak when I first arrived in Hyrall. The name I had once whispered like a secret in the dark, when we still lay beside each other.
“Have you gone mad?”
“Like you,” Gadriel hissed, “they failed in their duty to the Crown. And they’re answering for it. On their watch, not one, but two royal bedmaidens slipped away. One consort, one courtesan. That was the extent of their responsibility. To guard two women. And they failed.”
He remained spiteful. “Now they’re making reparations. I’ve given them a punishment that fits their failure. As I will with you.”
Then came the tug on my arms, and we began to march.
50
“Is it finished, Alf?”I heard Gadriel’s voice somewhere ahead.
The hood still obscured my vision, and Sir Karst and Sir Regis kept a firm grip on my arms until we came to a stop. We’d already passed through two corridors and descended a staircase, but I’d lost track of the rest as we turned through more winding halls.
“Yes, Your Highness,” a deep voice answered. “The pieces you’ve requested are ready, the ones I cut and polished yesterday. They’re in the chest, awaiting the final materials.”
“Here,” Gadriel said, handing something over.
There was a quiet grunt, the sound of shifting fabric, then the clatter of metal being set into place. A brief pause followed.
“All done, Your Highness,” the voice said at last. “They’re complete.”
“Leave us, Alf. Do not return until morning.”
“As you wish, Highness.”
I heard a heavy pair of footsteps lumber away and then silence closed in around us. But a latch gave way to a soft click, and somethingcreaked open on worn hinges. Following it, the sound of metal came, faintly clinking, like chains or iron fittings brushing together. At first, I didn’t understand, but it didn’t take long for fear to follow.
What in the gods’ names had Gadriel commissioned?
“Hold her still,” Gadriel commanded.
The grip on my arms tightened suddenly, and legs hooked around my ankles, fixing me in place. I cried out and bucked hard against them, but their grasp didn’t budge.
“Get off of me!” I snapped as someone began to unfasten my cloak. I thrashed, twisting my torso, struggling with everything I had. “Don’t touch me!”
But Gadriel’s hand found my waist, and I felt him begin to fasten something around it. It was heavy and solid, the sensation familiar.No, it can’t be.As it settled into place, the pressure deepened. My chest tightened. My thoughts slowed. Whatever he had placed on me seemed to multiply its weight by the second. It wasn’t just sitting on my waist, it was pressing into me, dragging me down.
I nearly collapsed. My legs weakened, and I was sure I would’ve fallen if the knights hadn’t been holding me up. Then Gadriel’s hand moved again, and I felt a soft tick, like a lock clicking into place.
“There,” he said, satisfied. “It’s fastened.”
My body went slack, and my head grew so heavy it lolled forward. But Gadriel pulled the cloak from my head, and light filtered slowly into my vision. I couldn’t lift my neck, but my eyes found the chain fastened around my waist.
