“What exactly did you do to end up in the bowels of Blackspire?”
“Nothing. I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.” Then a name pops into my head from a conversation I had with Cassius what feels like a lifetime ago. “Blackspire? That’s where we are? I thought maybe they’d taken me to Dhegal prison.”
She snorts. “Dhegal? Oh no, girl. You don’t want to go there. That’s where they send prisoners they hope will die but they can’t outright kill for political reasons. Dhegal is for true criminals. No, if you’re here, it’s because he doesn’t deem you dangerous. You are a lucky one, then. He must plan to use you for something, which means he’ll want you alive and well. Usually, prisoners here are well-fed, though. I’m surprised by your physical state. I have half a mind to report your guard.”
“I was told you infuse the food with light here to keep shades mortal. I’m a vampire, not a shade. If I eat or drink food infused with light, it could kill me.”
“A vampire? I haven’t heard of your kind before.” She studies me, probably wondering if I’m telling the truth. Her eyes flick toward the back of the tub. “Does explain your tattoo, though. I’ve never seen one on a shade.”
“I’m the only one. I’m not from here.”
“What does the symbol represent?”
“My tattoo? It’s a…key.” In fact, it could be interpreted as a key or a dragon, depending on how you look at it, but given that a war was fought over a dragon and her egg in this world, I think it’s safer to say it’s a key.
“A key? That’s a strange thing to have drawn into your skin.”
I shrug. “I think a key represents freedom.”
She snorts. “Well, at least you have that, then, even if you won’t be free any time soon.”
A chill travels through me at her words. I look down into the water, at my nails digging into my thighs.
Ferida clears her throat. “You should tell your guard. It’s his job to keep you alive. Adril becomes angry when his pets die unexpectedly.”
“A pet?” I turn to her, outraged by the descriptor. “That’s what I am meant to be?”
She recoils. “If you’re lucky. If I had my choice between that cell they pulled you out of and a place in Adril’s bed, I’d choose the bed.”
My stomach turns. Please Damien, find me.
The woman rises in a huff. “Finish up. We need time to do your hair.”
Only when I’m clean and dressed, with my hair braided down my back, am I escorted from Ferida’s dressing room. I feel ridiculous. I’m in another elf fashion, which means my dress is too tight and way too shiny, although the amethyst color they’ve put me in thankfully works with my complexion. As I’m led up multiple flights of stairs, I have no idea where I’m going, except that it’s some sort of special event.
A guard locks a gold collar around my neck. Humiliating but easy enough to break out of, if there were anywhere to go. No doors line the hall or stairway we ascend. I don’t know where I am, let alone how to exit the building. And the guards have sticks that glow with sunlight, weapons that could hurt me, if not kill me. It’s too risky to try anything.
Damien is coming for me. I need to trust in that and keep myself safe until then.
By the time we reach the top of the staircase, the muscles in my thighs burn. They shouldn’t. Not since I’ve enjoyed the strength of a vampire. But I’m malnourished and sleep-deprived. Physically, I’m weak.
A guard shoves me through a door into a…ballroom. It takes me a minute to regain my bearings. I’ve walked into a world where some giant’s bath has overflowed and the enormous soap bubbles still cling to the floor. The tables are all supported by a central pedestal of stacked, translucent spheres. People sit on delicate orbs the size of chairs that look like they might pop at the merest tap of a pin. The extraordinarily bright lights above my head are chandeliers of candles, each flame individually encased in a bubble. And weirdly, tiny ones snow down from the ceiling in a way that must be magic. It’s all very surreal, like I’ve tumbled down the rabbit hole and drunk the vial to grow small.
“I’ll take her from here.” Adril appears beside me, his icy gaze skating down his pointed nose toward me. He’s dressed in what I assume is elven finery. Fur-lined silk and a crown constructed of antlers and jewels. The guard hands him the end of the golden chain that is now fastened to the collar around my neck. He gestures toward a dais near the front of the room, where his throne awaits. “Join me.”
Reluctantly, I follow him. Close behind him, so that I don’t have to suffer the indignity of being dragged by the neck. He lowers himself onto the enormous throne, his back ramrod straight. His seat is constructed of gold and horns from beasts I do not even know the names of and cushioned in white silk. There’s no chair for me.
“Do you expect me to stand behind you?” I say, unable to keep the snark out of my voice.
His eyes crinkle at the edges. “I prefer you stay where I can see you. You may sit on my lap.”
“Not on your life,” I say through my teeth.
He frowns. “Then sit on the floor near my feet like the dog you are.”
I remain standing in front of him. Our gazes lock. “Why did you bring me here?”
He sits up straighter on his throne and looks past me, like I’m not even there.
