Matthias cursed under his breath and reached for the blade he carried at his hip, concealed for times like this. Amidst the clamour and the flurry of hands reaching for more wine, coupled with the lively dancers captivating the evening’s audience, his mind was disconnecting. The urge to toy with his blade, to settle his restless mind, grew stronger.
“Attention, Your Highness!” a guard called across the room.
The voice pulled the attention of everyone at the table. The male was tall and muscular, with short blue hair. His wings, black as night, were neatly tucked at his side, and he held a metal helmet in his arms. “Your Highness, we have a special gift that we think you will like very much.” The Thorn grinned.
Commotion sounded in the hall and a female Thorn stepped into the room, dragging a barely conscious female with lilac coloured wings and—
Gold and white Lightner leathers.
The wide-eyed king shot to his feet.
“Caught her snooping around near the Gate of District Seven,” the blue-haired guard added.
Not a soul dared to breathe as they anticipated what the king might do.
After what felt like forever, he approached the prisoner, who seemed to have realised where she currently was, as she tried to free herself from the grips of her captors. Matthias watched as his father roughly took the woman’s chin in his hand—gripping it as he tore the gag from her mouth.
Her dark brown hair was matted with sweat and dirt, and a large, bloody graze stretched from her temple to the bottom of her jaw on the right side of her face. Yet, through the grime, Matthias beheld a woman far more beautiful than any he’d seen before.
It was impossible to tell her age. She looked around twenty-five, but then again—so did he.
“Well, well, well. This is a delightful surprise. What is a Lightner doing here in my kingdom? Come to pay a little visit or to spy on the dark side?” the king sneered.
The woman didn’t speak.
“I asked you a question . . .”
The Lightner kept her eyes on the king and her mouth shut.
Matthias grimaced as the king backhanded her across the face, splitting her wound open once again. Threads of blood fell like red ribbons to the floor.
Remaining silent, she spat at the feet of the king.
He grabbed her by the throat and half pulled her to her feet. “You will answer when I speak to you, Lightner.”
The woman was brave—Matthias would give her that.
Because refusing to answer a king once definitely showed courage . . . a second time was asking for trouble.
“Perhaps a little…incentive–will help her find her tongue?” Snake sneered.
His father glanced at his advisor. “What are you suggesting?”
Matthias watched as Snake dragged his gaze over the woman’s body. Nothing good would come from anything Snake might suggest.
“Well, why don’t we put it to the people, see what kind of entertainment they’d like for the evening?” Snake replied.
The king huffed. “What about you, boy? What should we do with this thing?”
It took a few seconds for Matthias to realise his father was looking at him.
“Why bother with her presence longer than we have to? A night or two in a cell with no food or water would probably make her talk.” Matthias shrugged.
There was no way of knowing whether or not that was true, but it was certainly better than being tortured or . . . worse.
The king shoved his face closer to the Lightner and took a deep breath, smelling her hair. The woman didn’t flinch. “Perhaps he’s right. Maybe I will keep you like a caged animal. Let’s see ifthat makes you more agreeable. Take her to the cells,” the king said as he placed the gag back into her mouth.
Matthias noted the fear flicker in her eyes for a fraction of a time before the steel gaze returned. The guards reached for her arms, roughly pulling her to her feet, but before she was dragged from the room with mouth gagged and wings bound—the king spoke again. “Oh, and find her something more . . . appropriate to wear. I loathe those colours.”
