“Hey,” I say softly.
His gaze lands on me, and he smiles. “Hey.” He looks around the room. “Where are we?”
“You’re in the castle’s formal living room.”
“Why?”
“I’m not entirely sure what happened to you, but I think you were kidnapped by something called a cambion to lure me into the forest and attack me.”
His eyes widen. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Your brother saved me from one, and then we got you out. We had a healer come look at you, and she said you’ll be fine.”
He notices my bandaged arm and says, “What happened to your arm?”
“The cambion burned me trying to pull me into the woods,” I explain. “But if I’m being honest, I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
He shifts and pushes himself up so that he can sit upright on the couch. “Do you want to lay down?”
“No, no. You can,” I say before a yawn betrays me.
He motions toward his lap. “Come on, lay down, Mae.”
I’m too tired to fight back. I lower my head into his lap. He places a hand on my hair and strokes my hair, now ruined by the craziness of the night. My eyelids grow heavier with each stroke.
“I’m supposed to be your hero, not the other way around,” he mutters.
I fall asleep almost instantly, dreaming of children without eyes chasing me while they scream.
Chapter 22
I wake up in my own bed. I’m assuming Marik moved me here, but it’s alarming that I didn’t wake up when he moved me. I must have been exhausted. I check the time. It’s already past noon, the sun peeking through the closed curtains. Elle didn’t wake me for our training, which I’m thankful for. She does, however, wake me up by bringing me breakfast in bed: three pancakes, three scrambled eggs, three slices of turkey bacon, and a blueberry muffin. All served on one yellow tray by one smiling Elle.
The smell of the turkey bacon snags my attention first. My mouth begins salivating as soon as she steps into my room with the tray.
“For you, Your Wounded Highness,” she says, holding the plate out.
I adjust my legs and sit crisscross on the bed, then take the plate from her. “You’re being so dramatic. I’m fine, and I could have gotten my own breakfast.”
“It’s brunch, actually,” she retorts as she crosses the room and flings the curtains open.
I throw my hands up to block the sudden onslaught of the sunshine now filling the room. “Mother, Elle,” I curse.
She walks over to the bed and plops onto the end, a grin on her face. “So, I take it you feel fine for your date with Barrett this afternoon?” she asks.
I take a huge bite of the buttermilk pancakes after dousing them in butter and syrup. I nod, my mouth stuffed with fluffy, syrupy, buttery pancake. I moan at the taste.
Elle unties her boots and tosses them toward the door, mud flaking off as they hit the ground. She brings her legs up to the bed and asks, “How are you feeling about the princes so far?”
I sigh and put down my fork. “Honestly, I hate this whole thing. I like all of them, minus Barrett. I just don’t know him, but I’m sure I’ll love him, too.”
Elle raises an eyebrow. “Even Asmo?”
I shrug and say, “He was sweet to me last night. It’s not love, but I no longer loathe him.”
“Is anybody in the lead?”
“Yes. No. It changes every day. So, I guess no?” I say, unsure of my answer. “I have enough crushes. Do I have to go out with Barrett tonight?” I ask before stuffing another massive bite of syrup-doused pancake into my mouth.
