I nod.
“Would you like us to order you some tea?” Antonia offers. “You just got here. You can take one day to think. To breathe.”
She’s not wrong. If I move too quickly, I risk making decisions out of fear. I should slow down, make a plan. “I think I’ll take a bath. With everything last night, I never did.” I walk toward one of the doors.
“It’s the other one,” Charlotte says. “Do you want help?”
“No, you all rest. I’ll be out in a bit.” The bag in my hand feels like a weight.
When I enter the bathing room, I set it on the counter, then drain the water from last night. I feel guilty as I fill it again, but I need the distraction. The time alone. And I’m filthy from travel.
As I step into the water, I try to count again. All the days have blurred together. I haven’t even been here that long. How could any maid possibly know my cycle yet?
I sink below the surface, desperate to empty my mind. To think about anything else. I’m supposed to be solving problems for a goddess. I’m supposed to bring down an empire. Kill an emperor. Again. Still. Whatever.
How could I have been so foolish? I was so careful all those years. Then again, Brevan had a way of making me forget everything else. He was dangerous that way.
But avoiding him was causing me just as many distractions. He practically threw himself at me a few minutes ago. Because he thought I was carrying his baby. That was guilt. Not love.
I have to get him out of my mind. He could cost me everything. He might have already cost me everything. I can’t give in to him and lose Anya. Or risk his sister. We both deserve to be happy, but neither of us will find that if those we care about die for us.
I pop up from the water and take a deep breath.
I know where Anya is.
Eighteen
Anya
The sea crashes against the rocks but I can’t hear them over the whistling wind. The sun dips lower in the sky and it’ll be dark again soon. Another moonless night.
I retreat to the corner and sit, pulling my knees against my chest. The building sways and I squeeze my eyes shut, repeating lies to myself: it’s all going to be alright, you’ll see Taylan again soon, she didn’t have to marry Caiden, you didn’t let her down…
The words are hollow, but I repeat them anyway. They don’t help, but they prevent my fears from crowding my brain.
There’s a gentle knock on the door and I tense. It’s been three days and every knock has brought a guard throwing a plate of food into my room. It’s surprisingly fresh and after two days of avoiding it, I chanced eating it. I’m still alive and it didn’t taste terrible.
This is the strangest prison I’ve ever seen.
The knock sounds again and I wait for the door to open but it doesn’t. After a third knock, I rise, curious by the change.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice calls.
All the guards delivering food have been male. I hurry to the door, then try the handle. Still locked. “Who’s there?”
“My name is Rosalyn. Can I come in?”
“It’s locked.”
“That’s not an issue.”
I take a step back, curiosity peeked. “Sure. Come in.”
The handle turns and the door creaks as it opens. A slim woman in a loose fitting, simple gray dress. Her long dark hair is plaited in two braids that reach her waist. She’s pale, but in an unnatural way. I suspect she’s been here longer than I have.
She closes the door behind her, then walks into the room, looking around the space carefully. “You’re in one of the better rooms. They must be planning to keep you alive.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” I take a few steps away from her. She appears frail and delicate, but there’s something about her that makes me nervous. She’s not what she seems even if I can’t place why yet.
