She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. That signed contract tied her to the castle for the next two and a half months—and she had not liked Caspian’s expression when she’d signed it. All she knew from the stories about oaths made with demons was that they couldn’t be broken. She could only assume why.
She had to stay. Unless he intentionally harmed her, in which case she would have to flee and take her chances—contract or no contract.
To make matters worse, she began seeing Caspian everywhere, which only exacerbated her ire.
He would appear in the library, offering her a curt hello before turning on his heel and leaving. There were evenings when she would feel eyes boring into the back of her head and notice him standing at the door to the castle, watching her progress through the gardens. Sometimes he would even condescend to come out to walk with her, and when he did, they usually strolled together in tense, awkward silence.
If she didn’t know better, she would say he was keeping an eye on her.
One such day, Caspian appeared in the garden, scowling, and wordlessly extended his arm, waiting for her to join him.
Elizabeth longed to ask what happened to his other mistresses, but fear stayed her tongue.
Feeling like a well-groomed pet, she strode to him in a gown of midnight silk and obediently took his arm.
The air was tense and silent—no insects buzzed or birds chirped here, only a deep quiet that seemed to blanket the entire forest kingdom. The only sound at all was the scuffing of her boots against the flagstones, and Caspian’s heavy footsteps beside her.
Caspian led her through the gardens, walking past the artfully trimmed hedges and moss-covered statues. They passed overgrown beds of the black flowers that seemed to be the only pretty thing that grew here, in this place where the air was cold, and the earth never saw the light of sun.
She glanced at Caspian’s brooding face and wondered if he ever smiled.
Her thoughts turned dark as she wondered if he had killed someone today, and when he had last.
The bodies had looked fresh.
His arm was muscled against hers, and she wondered how he did it. If he had used a sword or a knife to kill the women in the cellars, or if he had grabbed them in his strength, and used his teeth to rip their flesh open like an animal. Like a wolf or rabid bear.
She curled her lip in distaste.
“What are you reading today?” Caspian’s voice cut through her thoughts. His tone was pointed, forced, and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes. He sounded like it was a struggle for him to be civil and polite.
She glanced up and down his frame—he was nothing but a murderer, wrapped up in pretty packaging.
Feeling like she had been quiet for a beat too long, Elizabeth answered quickly, “A book I found in the library. I’m, er, enjoying it.”
In truth, she was reading a history book about the different kingdoms in Asteria. Perhaps one of the last copies of it to ever exist.
She had read it hungrily, anticipating finding out some horrible, interesting thing, but it was all very boring. The only thing that she had found interesting at all was that two hundred years ago, Israr had been the wealthiest kingdom in Asteria, closely followed by Faina. Now, all the gold had shifted to the west.
Hardly a secret worth sending soldiers after books for.
“Good,” Caspian said, his voice curt, wrenching her back to the present. “I’m glad.”
He said nothing else to further the conversation, so they finished their circuit of the garden in tense silence.
Back at the castle’s entrance, she cleared her throat, feeling relieved to part ways. She curtseyed and said, “Thank you for the walk, Caspian.”
He turned to her, frowning.
Caspian remained as still as a statue, as if he were waiting for something. He searched her eyes, as if looking for some answer buried there.
His eyes were pupilless pits of fire, a constant reminder that he wasn’t mortal. He swore he wouldn’t hurt her, but she was starting to feel like agreeing to come and live with him was the most foolish thing she had ever done.
He hesitated, appearing to want to say something, but he stayed quiet. Suddenly, Caspian turned on his heel and departed without a word, leaving her standing in the gardens alone.
That evening, Elizabeth took Icefire out and rode hard.
She strained her horse to the limit and thundered across the plains. She felt restless, needing to get the pent-up energy out of her system, until she was no longer so angry and no longer felt like weeping. Her frustrations wicked off with her sweat, and she rode until she could finally pretend to be polite to these monsters.
