I took a long deep breath and tried to ready myself for whatever came next.
Chapter 2
Isat on a hard bench as Rose plaited my hair. I hated braids and I hated Rose. She wasn’t someone to trust in Ravenswood—I needed to remember that—even if she was acting sweet and kind at the moment, weaving her frayed black ribbons through my hair. She, along with Bain and Madden, were King Hemlock’s crew of dead idiots who tricked me into coming to Ravenswood in the first place. I hated all of them.
“When the king requests your presence, you must look a certain way,” she said, as she tied the end of one braid. Her dark gaze met mine in the worn, bespeckled mirror of the dressing table. Her voice scorched through me like a heat source, boiling my blood and hardening my limbs, leaving a stabbing ache in my heart.
“And what way is that?” I asked biting down on my tongue, desperately trying to keep my anger from showing.
“A way where everyone will know you belong only to the king and cannot be touched by anyone but him.” She paused and eyed me carefully, a black hairpin between her leather-clad fingers, with a small delicate-looking skull adorning its top. “Do you understand what a privilege it is to serve His Majesty?”
“I must have missed that memo. I was probably too busy dealing with my grandmother’s murder. You remember, right? Addy? Your sister?” I knew there was no point arguing with her, but I couldn’t control the emotions bubbling up under my skin. “YourMajesty, he’s the one who murdered her.”
Her leather gloves yanked another section of my hair back, hard and sharp. I stifled a wince and pinched my face up in defiance.
“Adelaide was a faithless insolent woman, even alive she was rebellious and awful to have as a sister.” Again my hair was jerked back, strands of it snapping out of my scalp. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit into the side of my cheek. I refused to let her see me cry in pain.
“She wasn’t even your grandmother, child. She was your kidnapper,” she spat.
There was nothing I could say back to that. Rose was right. Addy stole me away from Ravenswood. I could have argued that she took me to save me, but what good would that do? Rose didn’t care about any of that. All she cared about was serving the asshole she called her king.
Was she allegiant to Hemlock alone, or was she also devoted to both his sons? I wanted to ask her about Mathias and where my mother was kept. The questions caught in my throat in a thick lump without being heard. I doubted she would have answered them with any amount of truth.
I held my voice and watched her in the reflection. She mumbled through stained teeth and black-painted lips, and I stared at her until my eyes stung with dryness.
She finished my hair, spiraling each braid atop my head making me look as though I had two spiked horns, entwined with black bows and intricate alabaster skulls.
I hated the fact that I actually liked it.
She rummaged through the dust-filled drawers and pulled out a few small canisters of powders and glass vials filled with dark liquids. From out of the large armoire, she carried over what looked like a silky gossamer scarf and a midnight-colored corset, spotted with small bits of bones and buttons carved into skulls.
“Yeah, that’s not happening. That’s way too small and way too—”
She swung the fabric across my shoulders, “Enough, child. You’ll do whatever the king asks of you. As will I. Now undress yourself or I will have his guards come in and do it for you.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and rid myself of my bra quickly. Rose wrapped the corset around my torso and began lacing the fine black ribbons through the back. I watched my reflection in the mirror as the silky black bodice became tighter and tighter, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. I pursed my lips together as she tugged on the garment’s bindings.
“Rose, I won’t be able to breathe,” I winced.
“It will do as a reminder, child, of what the king can take away from you.”
I snapped my mouth closed and continued to watch her in the mirror, wondering what her story was, how she came to be here, and what her part in all of this was. I nodded my head, pretending to listen, pretending to have sworn my fealty to a dead king. I had to, there was no other choice that I could see. I needed to feign loyalty and find a weakness, find something I could use to destroy him.
This couldn’t be all for nothing.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Where’s the dress that goes with this torture device?”
“There isn’t one,” she said dryly, handing me a small skull-laced sheer bottom that left nothing to the imagination.
“He…he wants me in lingerie?” Sparks of heat spread across my chest trailing up my neck, warming my cheeks and tingling the roots of my hair. I stepped into the small ensemble, unnerved and beyond mortified. I looked down at myself. Too much of my skin was on display, it felt lewd—outrageous—I felt like a stuffed sausage.
Rose’s gloves were on my face next, brushing silvery black kohl over my eyes. Everything in me wanted to push her away and run, but where would I go dressed like this? I needed a blanket or a large overcoat. I needed something to hide all the flesh.
“There, child. You’re ready for the king to see you now,” she said, lifting my gaze up to the mirror. “Look.”
Fear constricted my stomach, compressing my organs into nothing but watery waves of nausea. I didn’t want to see myself in the mirror. I felt huge, exposed, and completely vulnerable and defenseless. “No, I don’t think I want to—”
Her grasp hardened around my chin, forcing it straight toward the mirror.
