Chapter Fourteen
I groaned, flipping onto my belly and burying my face in the pillows. How many hours had I spent rolling around in bed, a familiar headache pounding in my temples, nausea churning in my stomach? I should have expected the hangover, but I hadn’t. It came regardless; the price I’d pay for a momentary reprieve. At least my nightmares hadn’t returned. Some combination of wine and company had kept them at bay.
Without Vapula haunting my dreams, new anxieties crept in. The Prince had changed over the past few days. There was something about him—vulnerable and astoundingly honest—that he’d allowed me to glimpse.
Something that threatened to undo me if I let him get any closer.
I shuffled out of bed and lit the lantern on my desk. My heart skipped a beat. A bronze key glittered on my desk, the one that unlocked my room. I patted my pockets, finding them empty. Sitri must have taken it, or just maybe, I’d been drunk enough to give it to him. I glanced at the door. Shut. Not locked. Had I chosen to let him in here, or did he bring me to bed himself? I couldn’t quite make sense of the tension in my chest—not anger or fear, but something altogether different.
Last night’s events seemed distant in my mind. I squeezed my eyes closed as I dug through my memories.
We’d been there in the great hall, and Sitri had asked me to let him bind me. He’d calmed me when I panicked. Talked to me about trivial things. I might have even laughed, and then the memories became hazy, so drenched in wine and firelight that they could not be replayed. I took another look around my room. Sitri had left without a trace. No scent of him lingered in the air or on my sheets, and the only sign he’d been here at all was the key left on the desk.
It seemed so unlike him, or at least, unlike the idea I had of him. Maybe he really had suspected me, suspected that I was here to work against him. Now he understood the truth; I feared Vapula as much as he did. He hadn’t used that fear against me, though he knew I coveted freedom and had stripped it from me. Never hesitated to imprison me.
What kind of game was Sitri playing?
I shook my head, hoping to drive the circling thoughts out. I needed food, and drinking oils, and then more sleep.
Without bothering to shut the door, I wandered from my room and towards the kitchen. I was so busy rubbing my forehead that I nearly crashed into a tall, dark figure as I rounded the first corner.
Sitri, with his silver eyes and wild, black hair.
In one hand, he carried a bottle of drinking oils. The other held a plate loaded with flatbread and some kind of jellied preserve. As he caught sight of me, his brow lifted, and he bared his teeth in a grin.
“I wondered just how long you’d sleep in today. Perhaps I should have told you; survival isn’t immunity, darling, and alcohol is poison indeed.”
“Yeah, a warning would have been nice,” I muttered.
He made for my room, his arm brushing against mine as he passed, and I turned to follow. Sitri sauntered through the open doorway and setthe meal on my desk. I raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.
“You have missed two meals, darling. Did you expect me to let you starve?”
“You’re one to talk.” I followed him inside and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You haven’t eaten in a week. Last I checked, you weren’t starving, and hunger couldn’t annihilate.”
“It can’t, but hunger pains will come all the same. Besides, it’s too soon to know your limitations. Humans rarely stay around this long.”
The unspoken truth in his words hung heavy in the air. Humans were a resource in his world, used to create labor and soldiers. Demons didn’t keep us; they bound us, turned us into more of their kind, and put us to work. What Sitri did for me was exceptional. He was deep in uncharted territory.
He swept by me, lingering for a moment in the doorway, glancing at me over his shoulder. I scanned him for any sign of hostility or his dangerous, playful attitude. What caught my eye instead was the heaving of his chest. Was it just my imagination, or was the Prince winded?
I blinked, and his breathing had calmed. The hangover was making me see things. I shoved aside my lingering concern, refusing to let the Prince twist my emotions.
“Sitri? Do you remember what happened last night?”
Something in his face softened as his eyes flicked over me. “You overindulged,” he said, “and when I was certain you’d become a hazard to yourself, I brought you back here to rest.”
“And you didn’t…doanything to me? While I was drunk?”
At that, Sitri laughed. “You really think I’m such a monster? Why would a monster bother to ply you with wine? I don’t need alcohol to get my way. If I wanted, I would take. You always suspect the worst, darling.”
I let out a sigh, tinged with relief and that strange tension I’d felt before. He was right—he didn’t need wine. He had enough raw powerto do as he willed. I wasn’t sure whether the thought was more comforting or terrifying.
“And before you ask,” he continued, “there is work to be done today. We shall depart for Lantyca shortly. You have an hour to prepare yourself.”
“Really? Today?” I asked.
“Indeed. It is our last trip for some time, too. Without an active battlefield, the flow of salvage has staunched. I have more pressing matters to attend to. My allies will execute on your intel. For now, I want you close until your services are again in demand.”
