“That’s none of your concern, witch.”
“Oh, come on,” I whine.
“What business would aservanthave with the princess?” he asks condescendingly.
“I never thought I’d see the day where you talk down tome.” The words slip past my defenses as I shake my head in dismay. Then Zadyn’s warning flashes in my mind—not to mistake these strangers for the people I knew.
He stops short, slowly turning to me.
“I’m sorry, what makes you think you’ve earned my respect?” he spits.
“Everyone deserves respect and you know it.” I lift my chin, holding my ground. “I’m still waiting for an apology for the knife you stuck in my leg, by the way.”
“Listen, witch.” He stalks up to me menacingly, and for the first time, nothing of the man I loved remains in that hardened face. “I brought you before the king solely out of protocol. But I do not take kindly to outsiders under the same roof asmyking andmyprincess until they have proved themselves to be of no threat. Everything about you is screaming suspicion. And my gut is never wrong. You’re lucky a knife in your leg was all I gave you for your silence. You make one wrong move—” He holds up his pointer finger in my face as he glowers down at me. “Just one, and I’ll have your head in a basket. Blackblood bitch or no.”
Without another word, he turns and stalks away. I can’t get my legs to move. I can’t follow him. And he doesn’t turn back as I watch him disappear around a corner.
I findmy way back to my room, guided by Zadyn’s uncanny sense of direction. It must be late now, well past midnight. Or maybe it’s morning. Who knows? My mind is too scrambled to care.
I collapse face-first into the bed, not expecting it to be cushy, but also not expecting it to be hard as a rock. I groan as the impact reverberates through my aching body.
Zadyn curls up in a little ball on the floor beside by bed. I debate asking him to shift. I know I should be demanding answers right now, but I don’t have the strength to talk. To think. My mind is overloaded, my body exhausted. The second my eyes close, sleep drags me under.
Three brisk knocks jar me from my heavy slumber, sending my heart into a thundering sprint. My entire body tenses as I jolt upright.
“Rise and shine, missy!” a cheery voice calls from the hall. I remain frozen. Three more knocks jostle my door.
“Open up, missy, or I’ll have to come in there.”
The melodic lilt is unthreatening, but I make my way to the door and crack it open to find a tall, freckled redhead with a sweet, round face and teal eyes staring back at me.
"How do you do this morning, miss?” She tilts her head, her gaze skipping from my ratty hair to the unlaced bodice twisted around my torso. “Oh, dear, now this won’t do. We’ve got to make haste, or we’ll be late for morning chores!”
She pushes into the room and swiftly moves behind me, righting my bodice and lacing it so tightly I think I’ve lost two inches around the waist. She makes quick work of braiding my hair before tossing me the gray slippers from yesterday. My hands shoot out reflexively, snatching them from the air.
“Oh good, youareawake.” She smirks, holding the door open. “Now, come along.”
I blink and follow her, still unable to find words.
“Cute kitty.” Her voice brightens further as she glances down at Zadyn’s feline form. I fall into step beside her, noticing the tiny arched ears beneath her own thick braid.
“I’m Igrid.” She smiles warmly as we walk toward the kitchens. “I’ve been assigned to show you the ropes around here. I hope we’ll be good friends. It’s been so long since we’vehad anyone new at the castle. I’ve grown bored of all these dull faces.”
I stifle a laugh. Because every face I’ve seen so far in this strange world is uniquely beautiful. Some may be non-conventional, but each one is captivating in its own ethereal way. Even Madame Gnorr, in her old age, had an odd beauty to her.
“Well, are you going to tell me your name, miss?” Igrid’s eyebrows raise expectantly. Her button nose scrunches up as she gasps. “Oh, dear gods, are you mute? Don’t mind me—I’m a proper idiot!”
“No,” I finally find my voice. “No, I’m not mute. I just think I’m still in shock.”
“From what, may I ask?” Her teal eyes assess me curiously.
“It’s a long story. One I’m even having trouble believing.”
We reach the kitchens and Igrid directs me to pick up one of the polished silver serving trays, heavy with a variety of fruits, nuts, and cheeses. My stomach begins to rumble immediately, and I realize that I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday before I fell into another world. Before I learned that I’m of witch heritage and that I’ve been glamoured since birth.
I still don’t quite believe it or understand it.
I follow Igrid up through the castle, into an ornate yet cozy dining room. A rich cherry wood table for eight takes center stage among the intricately woven carpets scattered around the floor. The far wall is made completely of glass, overlooking a terrifying drop into an unseen abyss.
