She sucked in a sharp breath as he unwrapped it and held the delicate chain up before him, moon locket twisting gently in the air.
“I suppose you want this back?”
“Yes, I do. It was my mother’s.” So what if it also warned her when she was in imminent danger. He didn’t need to know that bit of information.
His eyes narrowed. And then he stalked toward her, rolling his finger in a gesture commanding her to turn around. Totrustthis killer long enough to turn her back on him. She did, despite every fiber in her body screaming at her. Something told her if she’d been wearing her locket at that moment, it would have been very, very hot.
She heard his soft footsteps approach, warmth radiating from his body as he stopped behind her. Slaide loomed there for a moment, and Hazel closed her eyes, wondering if she’d made a mistake.
“Hair,” he grumbled, voice gravelly and inconvenienced. Hazel gathered her copper locks with both hands and lifted itaway, giving the monster of a man access to her neck. His arms reach around her then, one end of the fine silver chain in each hand. The quarter moon locket dangled in front of her. Without knowing why, she closed her eyes. Maybe it would be easier to die with her eyes closed?
Next thing Hazel knew, warm skin grazed her neck. It was slight, a featherlight touch. She stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, and his hands froze in place. When his hands moved again, brushing the ultra-sensitive skin along her neck, the feeling spreading through her body was a rush of something else. It wasn’t fear. Itwasconfusing.
With deft hands, Slaide clasped the necklace. But his hands lingered against her skin for a beat longer than necessary—until Hazel turned her head enough to cast him a sidelong glance.
Slaide cleared his throat and stepped back from her, hands falling to his sides. His face flushed, and his eyes darted toward the floor for a moment.Well, that was interesting.
“Thank you,” Hazel said, voice just above a whisper.
Just like that, the flush was gone, replaced by a predatory gleam. With a smirk, Slaide turned to leave her. As he closed the door behind him, he said, “Dinner is in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
She placed her forehead against the desk, heaving out a sigh she’d held in during the entire encounter. It was going to take some time to digest the information she’d just been given.
Aswishcame from behind her in the direction of the door, drawing her attention from the noise of her unpleasant thoughts. Hazel looked over her shoulder to find someone had slid something under the door.
She rose, slowly lifting her body out of the chair again, slightly annoyed that she had to move. As it had before, her body protested only slightly at the movement, stiff musclescomplaining the most, and she was able to cross the room without much pain.
It was an envelope. She stooped to pick it up and was surprised to find it closed with the official wax seal. She carefully peeled back the wax, revealing the handwritten letter inside. It read:
Wear the green one.
- S
WITH A SIDE OF HUMILIATION
Hazel stepped up to the doors behind her escort: a tall, broad-shouldered knight. She eyed his polished armor and the sword at his hip and wondered if his presence was more for her protection or everyone else’s.
The man had hardly acknowledged her presence the entire exhausting walk from her room and ignored her few attempts at making conversation. The knight rapped his knuckles on the door twice to signal their arrival and palmed the iron door handle to pull the door on the right open. He nodded in her direction then, as if she was supposed to understand that to mean anything. When she just stared at him, he sighed audibly, making his exasperation clear.
“Enter,” he growled.
She took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold, feeling much the same as a young girl playing dress up in her older sister’s dress shoes. Except, she didn’t have an older sister, and this was far from pretend play. The sound of her heels against the floor was jarring. She’d never worn high-heeled shoes. Never needed to, and she’d decided she could go her entire life without ever wearing them again.
After Phaedra had put the finishing touches on Hazel’s hair and rouged her cheeks, she clasped her hands excitedly. When she looked in the floor length mirror, she could see why. It was a shocking transformation. Her skin was bright, bruises fading as the day stretched on. And despite wanting to do the exact opposite of what the note had suggested, she had to admit the green velvet, shape-hugging dress was the most flattering of them all. Clearly someone had good taste, as much as it pained her to admit it.
Hazel’s wild mane had been tamed with Phaedra’s help; the angel having teased the frizz out of it with some kind of floral-scented serum and then pinned part of it out of her face with an embellished emerald and silver hairpin—one that complemented her necklace. Phaedra smiled when she looked upon her masterful work, and it was easy to see why. She’d taken a plain girl from a meager village and turned her into someone who could just as easily pass for a nobleman’s daughter. Maybe not quite a princess, but someone of higher birth, nonetheless.
The room was a quaint dining hall, clearly meant for entertaining a smaller, more intimate group of guests. Even so, the table at the center of the room had enough seating for eight people, though place settings had only been arranged for three.
Upon seeing her, a man she’d never met before—though it was easy enough to deduce this must be Pimley—rose from his chair abruptly, bumping the table and nearly knocking his wine glass over in the process.
Slaide laughed, apparently bemused by the show of respect. He grabbed his own glass and took a large swig before speaking.
“Settle down, Pimley, before you hurt yourself,” he said. “Don’t let the pretty outfit distract you from who and what she is. Need I remind you she is a prisoner here, facing potential treason charges? You don’t need to stand in her presence.”
Treason?It was the first time she’d heard the term thrown around.
“I—you mean—thisisher?” He was baffled, expecting something else.Charming.
