It’s night again, of course. Judging by the moon’s position, the sedative he gave me must’ve made me sleep through the entire day.
A sedative. I should’ve known. I was stupid to trust him for even a second.
My stomach gurgles angrily, but I ignore it. No more demon food for me, no matter how delicious it smells. I won’t be eating again until I find a way out of here.
Speaking of…
Sprinting to the bedroom door, I grin when I find it unlocked. The door leading out of his chambers creaks open too, not a single horned guard in sight.
But I take two steps into the hallway before I stop myself. The lacy nightgown I’m wearing barely reaches my rear, and the fabric is so thin I can see the dark outline of my nipples through the lace.
I dart back inside, groaning.
Seconds later, I’m back in the bedroom, throwing open the doors to his wardrobe. Instead of the row of shirts and breeches I expect to see, I’m met with a single gown hanging lazily from the rail along with a pair of black heels.
My mouth becomes a tight line as I pull the gown out. It’s a deep red shade with a plunging neckline and a long slit down one side of the skirt. I’ve seen this gown before. I wore it only a week ago at Blossom’s birthday ball. Except this gown feels far more expensive than the one I wore that night. The fabric shimmers slightly, too.
“Does everything glitter here?” I huff.
Tearing off my nightgown, I throw on the crimson dress and step into the pair of heels. I’m just about to leave when I catch sight of something in the long mirror beside the wardrobe.
Swallowing, I move closer to the mirror. Fitted tightly around my neck is a thin red choker made of some kind of leather. I brush my fingers against it, looking for a clasp or some way to take it off, but the necklace is seamless and fits perfectly against my skin.
“It’s probably just a gift,” I say to myself, not really believing it.
Dread curls in my chest the longer I stare at my reflection, so I turn away, rushing towards the bedroom door. Gift or not, if the Stars are on my side, I’ll be out of his castle long before I have the chance to find out.
The purpose of his ‘gift’ becomes apparent the moment I find the huge stone archway that leads outside.
The moonlit grass is so close. My shoes just cross under the arch when I’m yanked backwards by my neck. Choking, I twist my body around, but whatever grabbed me is gone. I’m alone in the huge corridor, my gasps rattling across the stone walls.
It’s only when I try again, landing on my rear several times, that I realise it’s the necklace.
“Damn you, Tauren.” I claw at it, desperate to rid myself of the foul thing. My fingers can’t seem to hook under it. It must be some kind of spell. It’s as if it’s part of my neck.
I try three more archways before I give up and stomp around the castle.
I’m not alone here anymore. As the moon rises higher, more demons – plainly dressed servants along with more regally clothed nobles – emerge from their chambers to go about their business. They sweep past me in small bursts of multi-colouredskin and wings, occasionally sliding curious looks my way but never daring to approach me.
I start to wonder if I’m lost as I pass through another tall stone corridor. Familiar paintings of horned nobles decorate the walls, and I’ve definitely seen those tapestries before…
I stare at a particularly awful one with humans hanging from their wrists over a pit of fire, surrounded by various torture instruments. Tilting my head, I wonder whether Tauren has a dungeon of his own when a shrill shout makes me flinch.
“Stop that! Get off me!” A young male voice echoes through the halls. “You can’t keep doing this, Tibalt! It’s not fair.”
“What are you going to do about it?” a deeper voice replies. “Tell on us?” He laughs.
The hallway I’m in is empty, but I follow the sound until I reach a turn in the corridor and slowly peek my head around. Two youngish demons are crowded around a third shorter male.
“What’s wrong, Claren?” a demon with bat wings asks the shorter one. “No mean big brother here to save you?”
“Don’t touch me,” Claren clenches his fists. “You have no right to, ow—” He doubles over as he’s kicked in the belly by the winged demon. The two bullies laugh, but I’m not laughing with them.
“You two are going to stop that right now!” I storm out from my hiding spot.
They spin around. Their clothes are regal, but their youthful faces are pudgy and marked with spots. I suppose even demons have rough teenage years.
“You’re going to leave him alone.” I stop metres from the pair.
