“Time to wake up, darling.”
The cheery tenor sliced through the heavy mud weighing me down. All at once, my memories came flooding back in a torrent. The revelation about Harthon, the note, drinking the draught Jac gave me—
I opened my eyes, already knowing what I would see. The icy blueirises and mean, perfect smile were no surprise, but they still sent dread racing through my veins—a visceral reaction I couldn’t stop. Smooth alabaster skin stretched over the angular planes of his narrow face, everything about him sharp and biting.
“There they are,” Koerlyn crooned, looming above me.
He wore no crown, but those heavy gold chains hung from his neck, nearly touching my nose as he braced himself on hands that caged my head. An iridescent gold tunic was draped over his shoulders, gaping open at his chest. I was lying on something soft, a bed, my arms fastened to the headboard. I was clothed, thank the Domus. He leaned closer, his heavy floral perfume threatening to choke me.
I was Koerlyn’s prisoner again.
Run. Fight. Get out.
This was a nightmare. My worst fear, come to life. But I’d brought myself here.
“Where is she?”
His smile vanished. Instinct had me tensing my hands, readying a defense. Only I couldn’t move them. Not that I’d expected him to leave me free.
“There is a way I expect to be greeted, and that is not it,” he clipped.
I hadn’t used his title.
I stared at him, hatred in my gaze. The last time I’d made that mistake, he’d whipped me, and I’d all but crumbled. Koerlyn reveled in power. In making others feel helpless. I wouldn’t cow to him, not like I had before. I was a prisoner, and he could hurt me. But I also had something he needed: knowledge.
So I said, “And that’s not an answer to my question.”
I tensed, preparing for his strike. I wouldn’t be able to block him, but I’d learned how to take a blow over the past few weeks. I could handle what he dealt.
He froze for a moment, and then he kicked hishead back and laughed. I caught a flash of a plain, stone ceiling above him. The crackle of a fire leaked through his delicate chuckles. I wasn’t in a cell, but a room of some sort.
Finding composure, he grinned down at me. “My, how you’ve changed since I saw you last.” Koerlyn spoke as if we were old friends.
The easy demeanor was more terrifying than his anger.
Swallowing my fear, I repeated, “Where is she?”
He pushed away from me, and I took in the rest of the room. It was small and plain, sparsely furnished with a washing space and mirror. Koerlyn was too pretentious to have plain rooms in his home. This felt more like the inn I’d stayed at in Carmen. If we weren’t in Koerlyn’s city center, maybe we were somewhere close to Harthon’s border.
It was all I could hope for.
“She isn’t your mother,” he stated, watching me curiously.
I didn’t respond, and silence stretched for a long minute. It was a tactic to make me uncomfortable, or test my resolve, or show that he was too great to be pressured by awkward silence.
Whatever the reason, it was obnoxious.
Finally, he spoke. “But you came all the way here at a moment’s notice because she was threatened. How interesting is that?”
I blinked. “I have something you want. You have someone I want. Where is she?”
He tilted his head and cooed as if I were a baby. “It’s precious, how you’re trying to be tough. It’s almost like Harthon made you think you can play in our world.”
The patronizing words made my chest itch with anger. Never had I so greatly wished to punch someone in the mouth. It was his intent to make me feel this way, no doubt. I relaxed my jaw, refusing to satisfy him with a reaction.
“How was your time with him, darling?”
“I was there against my will. How do you think?” I said, willing truth into my tone. Convincing Koerlyn I wanted nothing to do with Harthon could help me. It might help him see me as less of an enemy—less of a threat. He wouldn’t expect me to run back to Fourth.
