I wasn’t strong enough to hold everything together.
Ignoring her whispered pleading, I walked around the room, taking in one object after another, each unique and more macabre than the next. I suspected they were personal relics that served as a warning to those who dared question his power, plus a reminder to himself that there was no limit to how far he’d go or how cruel a blow he was willing to deal to expand his rule on this world.
Because touching anything might draw his attention, I only looked. I sensed I’d know what was important to my quest and what wasn’t.
On a sideboard, I found a delicate crown sitting on a crystal platform. It was twisted, as if a beast had latched onto it and wrangled it in its paws, then delicately adorned it with thorns instead of jewels. Had it been taken from a once-powerful queen?
I leaned forward to study a preserved fairy with wings made up of every color imaginable. She was mounted on a broad slab of black wax, appearing delicate and beautiful. Her wings still twitched. Grimacing, I stepped past the morbid objects.
Fragments of a mirror lay on a round piece of clear glass on the next table. I swore the shards whispered, as if the image of the person who last used the mirror still remained. Something whispered in my mind that if I put the mirror back together again, whoever was trapped there would tell me what happened. Or trap me in their place.
Beyond the table hung a floor-to-ceiling tapestry, its surfaceappearing alive with an image of a king and queen woven in such startling detail, it chilled my bones.
Behind them, a dark blue arch stretched across the top of the tapestry with a slice of white below, almost as if someone had purposefully cut the fabric. That wasn’t true, though, because I could see the fine stitches that adorned the image with the mark, not cuts. But I sensed if someone stepped too close to the gap, it would suck them into . . . I couldn’t imagine where.
My eyes were drawn to the couple. As I leaned closer, horror latched onto me and shook me; their lifelike hair shimmered with too-real luster. Actual strands had been woven into the silk—a morbid trophy torn from the heads that had once worn the now dingy crowns hanging lopsided on their brows. Their crystal-studded eyes haunted me as I moved past them.
I reached the bedside table and carefully opened the drawer with my knife, finding nothing but dusty books with titles related to war tactics. I wanted to open each one to make sure the stilted titles didn’t hide different contents, but if I touched anything, I feared it might trigger a spell that would trap me here until the king could arrive.
Using my blade, I lifted his pillow. The scent of his cologne, cloying and sharp, drifted from the fabric, stinging my sinuses, and it was all I could do not to sneeze.
Nothing could induce me to shift his bedding or lift his mattress.
Moving around the bed, I used the tip of my blade to open the other bedside table drawer, but again, I only found old books I didn’t dare open. None of the titles suggested anythingrelated to Claiming collars. I dropped to my knees and looked under the bed, finding nothing but dust. Whoever took care of his rooms didn’t clean often, but if this was my job, I’d avoid coming here as long as I could.
I needed to leave, but I felt like I’d discovered nothing, so I lingered, continuing around the room.
Globes the size of my fist hung on thin chains from the ceiling, five of them with gleaming red balls inside each. Darkness clouded the corner where they hung. I moved closer, trying to make out what the balls inside might be.
I reeled backward, nearly falling on top of the bed.
Beating hearts.
Who’d sleep with something that horrifying dangling nearby? There was no way to know who they belonged to, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
I cracked open his closet door and poked my head inside, finding clothing lined up neatly on the shelves. No drawers to open, no cabinets to riffle through.
Why didn’t Vexxion want me inside the king’s bedroom? The hearts certainly gave me a fright, but I’d seen a lot worse battling dregs on the border.
Backing into the room, I closed the door and continued exploring.
A row of tiny paintings hung on the final wall, ironically at eye level, because each was a portrait of a solitary eye. One was sapphire blue like Vexxion’s. Another was nearly black. A third was an unusual shade of light blue, and the fourth was a green much like my own. They followed me as I walked past them,but I wasn’t surprised about that. Would they tell him I’d been here?
“No,” the pixie said. She’d remained still while the other two danced; I’d felt the weight of her eyes on my back as I moved around the room.
What purpose did anything in his bedroom serve? Perhaps the king just collected ghoulish things. The hearts certainly fit in with a gory display.
I should leave. This was a waste of my time.
“Oh, but my pretty, it’s not,” the pixie said. “You came here for a reason.”
“I did.”
“You won’t find answers here, but you will find questions.”
Lovely, a riddling pixie.
“I didn’t come here to free you and your friends,” I said.
