But I can’t focus on any of them.
“I know the plan,” I whisper.
Roman’s dark eyebrows slowly rise, but he says nothing. No one does. They’re too afraid of repeating their plans, and I’m too exhausted to even have this conversation. There’s a weight on my shoulders that’s grown incredibly real over the last several minutes.
I came here for a reason. And now the time has come.
“I have to get ready,” I tell them, and the tragic emptiness in Avian’s eyes sinks into me then. It’s like he wants to steal me away from all the things he’s thrown me into.
But it’s too late for that.
“Yeah,” Zilo agrees with an uncertain nod of his head. He might be uncertain, but I know he’ll fake his confidence until the day he dies. “Yeah. And…take another bath. I could smell you all the way down the hall.”
Great.
Good talk, Zilo.
Roman and Avian are still staring at me, and it isn’t until Zilo nudges them one after the other that they follow him out. A sort of aching pain pulses through my heart with the sound of the door clicking closed behind them.
I stand in a daze long after they’re gone. My body goes through the motions of a life worth living. Of a future Princess in the making.
I bathe. I comb my long blonde hair. I slide into the sleek dress my Prince gifted me. My slight curves fill out the lace nicely. It’s delicate against my fingertips. I glance only once atthe beautiful, blue-eyed woman staring at me in the reflection of the inky bathwater.
And then I know I’m ready.
I’m going to kill my future mate.
The dinner that evening is finer than I’ve seen in this hell ridden realm. I’m seated high above it all and I can’t help but take it in slowly piece by piece. A sleek black table runner flows down the length of each long table. Like golden starlight, flamed candles dance here and there in the dark. A chorus of murmuring words circle the cave like walls. The meat on the plates is tender and seasoned, and some of the patrons even have the decency to use utensils from time to time. I spy Zilo and Avian holding the food in their hands, and a small smile almost pulls at my lips.
I suppose you can’t always teach old dogs new tricks.
The Prince’s hold on my hip tightens, and when I gaze up at him, he’s watching me closely. I’m seated on his lap as his legs dangle over the ledge of his favorite little perch. We’re sitting high above hundreds of tables. A quiet chatter of his people enjoying a delicious meal scuttles below us.
And he’s watching me with piercing dark eyes.
“What are you looking at, my lovely?” he asks, wafting hot air against my ear in a clammy, uncomfortable sensation.
“Nothing,” I whisper along his neck, teasing his flesh while distracting his mind.
If he thinks too hard on the way I look at his High Hell, would he kill them?
Would he kill me?
A clatter of fine china clinks against the table set behind us, and from over Ravar’s shoulder, I lock eyes with the pale irises of the next heir to the throne.
He stands next to a small round table with a set of two plates balancing at the edge where he’s dropped them. Two glasses are placed more neatly at the center. His heavy attention holds mine. The memory of how he sounded when he was buried deep inside me flickers through my mind. And now it seems I’ve forgotten entirely how to breathe.
“Thank you, brother,” the Prince drones, snapping me out of my trance and pulling my attention back to him at once. “Leave us.”
A single heartbeat passes by before his voice raises and startles a gasp from my lungs. “I said, get! I took the honor of your braids the last time you lingered too long with a bride of mine. Don’t make me take the honor of your manhood next,” Ravar grumbles as he gazes with a cold empty look out at the crowd.
My mouth can’t seem to close.
He took…he took away his brother’s most prideful possession? He took away his honor?
Why?
Roman’s attention never leaves me, and there’s a desperate look in his pretty gaze. Very distinctly, his index finger lingers on the glass to the right. His brow lifts.
