Page 55

“Ow,” I said out loud, grimacing, the sheet still tight in my grip.

The wooden stool sat at an awkward angle in front of me. One of its legs broken.

I needed to get out of here. Adrian would lose his mind if he caught me in here breaking the king’s things.

I stood, quickly gathering the sheet to throw back over the painting, bunching the material in my hands that had started to sweat, only stopping to glance at the painting quickly, my heart stopping with my glance.

I did a double-take, looking around the room, then back at the portrait, closing one of my eyes, then the other, trying to focus my liquored vision on what I was really seeing, telling myself I was making up what was right in front of me.

I gasped when I realized my eyesight was fine, my throat closing as I studied the portrait of a woman with a face I’d seen thousands of times before.

I closed my eyes, blinking compulsively.

This had to be an illusion, a trick of the candlelight with the oil paint, or magic-enhanced liquor that made you hallucinate.

But there was no mistaking it.

The woman above the fireplace, in the room of the king, was me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

BRYN

The air shifted inside the room as he entered, the fireplace roaring to life. The painting of me illuminated by its glow.

Adrian.

He’d found me.

“What is this?” I spoke into the flame, refusing to look at him. The rendering of me smiling down at us from her perch.

“I think it would be better if Leo explained,” he said softly. Gently.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Adrian.” I turned on him, lifting my fist to strike him.

He moved fast, stopping me with little effort, my wrist gripped by his burning hand inches from his face.

I yanked myself free and pointed at the painting, shaking with adrenaline as my buzz evaporated. “What. Is. This?” Adrian’s eyes were glazed, from more than just the alcohol I realized. “Are you high?”

Adrian growled, stepping away from me so I couldn’t attempt to hit him again. “As much as I’d love to share the inner workings of getting high on another planet, I think that’s the least pressing issue right now.” He turned on his heel, trying to lead me out of the room. “Follow me.”

My voice shook. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He looked at the painting, then at the bed, before shaking his head. “I’m not talking to you about this in here.”

He grabbed my hand before I could argue, and half dragged me out of the room.

Under the quiet of night, we didn’t pass a soul as he led me down stairs and corridors, only stopping once he reached a door at the far back of the castle.

He let go of my hand to touch the small of my back, ushering me through the door before I could protest.

Thousands of twinkle lights greeted me, dancing off the glass structure of the enormous greenhouse that surrounded me. The glow of the tiny lights blurred against the darkness beyond the many panes of clear glass, to where the night sky covered the land surrounding the castle.

Inside the room, plants and flowers burst from various pots and hanging baskets; kinds I’d never seen before, with vivid blue and bright neon petals. Some were even bioluminescent, tucked away in darker corners of the room.

Adrian walked over to a small wooden bench, urging me to sit down.

Kneeling before me, he took both of my hands in his, pressing his forehead to them, before committing himself to telling me what was going on.