Perhaps that’s what I needed to do. Maybe the healers could help me.
“Danica?”
I turned. It had taken Yusilin a few days to get used to calling me Danica, but now it felt almost like we were… friends.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said you are ready.”
“Thank you.”
My slippers slapped against the stone as I walked toward grandfather’s office. My heart pounded in my chest until it felt almost like I couldn’t breathe. By the time I was walking down the corridor, small black dots had filled the edges of my vision, and I was gasping. I ducked into the closest room and closed the door. Distantly, I noticed it was a sitting room, but I was already bending over in an attempt to catch my breath.
Had Yusilin tied my dress too tight?
No. This was… fear.
And it shamed me.
My grandfather had never hurt me. I had to be honest with him. I would need to tell him what was happening. There was a chance one of his enemies had managed to bespell me, and that was why I was having these issues.
I stumbled to the window and stared down at the gardens below me. A demon I’d only recently met glanced up at me. Garadiel. His expression was thoughtful as he placed his hands on his hips, legs spread. He looked at me as if he was weighing my worth. Obviously, he didn’t like what he saw, because he shook his head and turned, striding away.
My breath slowed as I watched more of the demons coming and going. Daimonion stalked across the grounds, toward the palace entrance, and fury plunged into my chest, twisting as if it could rip something free. A group of his men walked with the assassin—demons who were sent to do less important or risky tasks for my grandfather.
Namiros was one of the worst. Each time he saw me, he gave me a sharp little smile that made something cold coil in my stomach. But Odax and Paymon were almost as bad, constantly feuding with each other to impress both Daimonion and my grandfather. Odax liked to terrify the maids, while Paymon enjoyed sharpening his knives and leering at anyone who’d recently annoyed him.
Namiros glanced up at the window, his dead gaze unerringly finding my own. His smile made me shiver, and I turned away from the window.
I knew we needed the assassins to keep us safe from our enemies, but I loathed all of them.
At least I was calmer now. Time to face my grandfather.
As usual, he sat behind his desk. Tension was carved into the faint lines beside his eyes, and he raised his head, gesturing for me to sit.
I sat. He made me wait for what had to be at least ten or twenty minutes while he finished up his paperwork.
I studied his face. It wasn’t like my grandfather to make his point with these kinds of power moves. Or was it? I reached up and rubbed at my temple. Grandfather sat back in his chair and watched me.
“Is there something wrong with your head?”
“No. Listen, grandfather–”
“No,youlisten.”
I flinched, and grandfather sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I apologize for my tone.”
“You seem… stressed.”
“I am attempting to keep us from losing everything to our enemies. And you are not helping matters with late night excursions down to my dungeon. What, exactly, were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about the opportunity to be your ambassador, and I thought I should educate myself about what it actually means to rule. I realized I’d never been down to the dungeon before.”
He didn’t look convinced. “So you chose to go in the middle of the night, alone?”
“I uh, I couldn’t sleep,” I glanced down, my cheeks heating. “I met with Pischiel, and he escorted me back to my room.”
“Yes. He mentioned.”
