“Princeps Koerlyn wants to see you.”
Had he already figured out my lie? No—there was no way. It wasn’t like he’d gotten someone to go to Sixth and back in just a few hours. But if not that, what could he possibly want me for? Information about Harthon? More senseless killings?
Forcing a bravado I didn’t remotely feel, I said, “You really call him Princeps when he’s not around?”
Tree man’s hand wrapped around my bicep and tugged. I followed, trying not to trip over my feet.
“He has a thing for respect. It’s something you should remember,” he answered dryly.
My boot hit something wet—the pool of blood—and my foot slipped from beneath me. He caught me with his grip, yanking me to my feet. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. Then he promptly swept meinto his chest.
Stiff as stone, I went silent, trying to understand who this man was.
I’d stabbed him. He was the enemy. He should have let me fall. Why didn’t he?
Probably because Koerlyn doesn’t want you covered in blood.
A few steps later, warmer air and the scent of roasted meats washed over me. Cautious hope sparked. There had to be a kitchen nearby. Kitchens typically had exit points that led outdoors, enabling easier food deliveries. It could be a viable escape route. The tree man planted me on my feet, that hand back on my bicep as I found my balance. The moment I was steady, he was tugging me again.
We went straight, then right, and then left, the scent of food growing stronger with every turn. By the time he jerked me to a stop, it smelled like I was in the actual kitchen, but there were no sounds of bustling cooks—only quiet. The bag was ripped from my head a moment later.
I was in a small, candlelit room, a long table brimming with food standing between me and Koerlyn, who smiled.
My already shaky optimism faltered. There was a kitchen here, but it was nowhere close to me.
“Etarla, how nice of you to join me for dinner,” Koerlyn said pleasantly.
Like I had a choice. I stemmed the response before it came out.
Various meats, vegetables, and breads were piled high on platters that could feed ten men. Another Princeps, wasting food and resources while his people starved. Frankly, that seemed to be the least of Koerlyn’s flaws.
Koerlyn dipped his chin, and the tree man sliced the bindings from my wrists. Then he departed without a word, leaving me with the two guards at the door and the most vile man in the Territories.
“Please, sit.” He gestured to a chair adjacent to him, fine dishwareset before it.
I complied, only because I knew my defiance would very well result in more senseless deaths. Holding my chin high and spine straight, I calmly walked to the cushioned chair and sat, staring hard at the stone wall across from me.
“I hope you brought your appetite,” he commented, reaching for a platter. When I didn’t answer, his hand froze. “Did you, Etarla?”
I hesitated, not knowing what the correct answer was. Wouldnobe disrespectful? Would he see through my lie if I saidyes? If he did, what punishment would he deal this time? “I wasn’t expecting dinner, Princeps. So I don’t quite have an appetite,” I answered carefully, meeting his frosty eyes.
“I don’t suppose the bodies would have anything to do with your lack of appetite, would they?” He spoke casually, as if he were simply asking about the weather and not the cruel horror he’d committed in my room.
“They might have some role, Princeps,” I managed as neutrally as I could.
He simply shrugged and began to build our plates with an easy grace. The food was steaming and smelled of rich herbs and butter, but my stomach only roiled in response. Hungry as I was, I wanted nothing from this monster.
“It wasn’t my wish to bring you here and punish you, you know. But it’s important that you know your place.” He finished serving us and rested back against his chair. “Do you know your place now?”
For a moment, I thought about taking the dinner knife at my fingertips and jabbing it into his eye. It would kill him. It would end his reign of terror. Endthis.I could do it so quickly—too quickly for the guards at the door to stop me. If Koerlyn had any form of training, he might be able to stop me, but he seemed far too snobbish to ever grapple with anyone or throw a punch.
But I’d only had a few weeks of training myself, and if hedidmanage to stop me, what he did in my room today would be mere child’s play in comparison to the consequences I would face.
It was only that thought that made me dip my chin and say, “Yes, Princeps.” I would cooperate. I would allow him to think I was beneath his thumb. And I would use that to my advantage when it was time to escape.
Koerlyn smiled brightly. “Very well, then. We eat.” He cut a small piece of carrot in two as I gripped my utensils, trying to calm my stomach. “Eat, Etarla,” he hummed, spearing the carrot and elegantly bringing it to his lips.
I cut a potato with mechanical movements and stuck it in my mouth, willing myself to chew. It was easily the richest tasting food I’d ever eaten in my life, but it felt like cotton going down my throat. I forced myself to eat more.
