Page 11 of The Rose in the Shadows

Surely that was the question burning on everyone's minds, but coming from her the accusation didn't feel like an attack. So I answered honestly.

“Not that I know of.”

She nodded softly, and her eyes fell to the ground momentarily. When she looked up at me again, just seconds later, her composure had returned, and any hint of upset was quickly gone. She tugged my arm into hers again and began marching forward, setting a pace that was nearly difficult to keep up with.

“So, this is Dimitri,” she announced, beckoning to the guard behind us, who only huffed in response. “He’ll be your official guardian. You'll have other guards periodically, but Dimitri will be primarily in charge of your care. So he should be able to assist if you have questions or needs.”

She made it seem like he was my employee rather than my keeper, even though he was obviously here to keep a watchful eye on me and be prepared to protect everyone else from me in the event that I did turn out to be a spy.

Which I really didn't think I was.

Dimitri was a tall man, but not overly muscular. He wore a black sweater and thick trousers, the ends of which were tucked into large boots that echoed in the halls as we walked. A large broadsword was tucked into the waistband of his industrial belt and a second blade, impossibly larger than the first, was strapped over his shoulder. His face was stern, wrinkled from years of intense grimaces, and the mask of a black beard covered his chin, matching his thick hair

“Nice to meet you, Dimitri,” I mumbled.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady.”

I turned to Iris, eyebrows raised in a silent question. With a mischievous sparkle to her eye, she only giggled back at me.

“Regardless of where you came from, my dear, you are the last known survivor of House Hyrax. That makes you the matriarch of a Royal Council family. And a Princess.”

“Princess?” I scoffed, nearly stopping in our tracks.

“It’s a title more than anything. Each Council member is referred to as a Prince or Princess of their family line for formality’s sake. You, my dear, are the Hyraxian Princess. None of the Council members will actually ascend to the throne, though.”

“Clayton will.” I realized, beginning to piece things together. “He’s the Crown Prince.”

She gave me a sideways wink. “Look at that. You’ll ace your Descendant History lessons in no time.”

I shrugged, head spinning. No wonder the palace was already alight with gossip. I was either a long-lost princess brought back to resurrect an otherwise dead House, or I was a royal traitor sent from an enemy country. Were the situation reversed, I'd gossip about me too.

“Now, there will be other people to help you, too, of course, besides Dimitri, I mean. You’ll need to practice with those powers of yours to avoid another outburst, and of course, I’ll arrange for a visit with my personal seamstress. Any of the palace servants will be happy to oblige you. No doubt word of the Dragon welcoming you into court as a guest of his household will already have spread.”

No doubt.

Dimitri stopped in front of us, marking the end of our journey. We stood at the conclusion of the hall in front of sweeping white wooden doors with elaborate golden handles that almost dripped to the floor in finery. Carved into each door was the same etching of an oversized spear sparking into two prongs—a bident on each door to match the one now tingling on my chest.

“My lady.” Dimitri cleared his throat. “These are the apartments for the Council member of House Hyrax. They’re yours now.”

Iris smiled and nodded, encouraging me to step forward, place my hands on each of the heavy wooden doors, and push.

As they creaked open and the beauty of the room washed over me, I could only gasp.

We entered an opening parlor with armchairs decorated in polished fabrics and covered with plush pillows and blankets. End tables of hand-carved wood sat on each end of the armchairs, and sparkling crystal chandeliers hung from above. Through the parlor, I entered the bedchamber.

The floors were smooth, made of fine wood, and a white carpet with golden stitching of leaves and vinery covered the room underneath the oversized bed. A towering mound of thick pillows nearly hid the ornate, golden headboard behind them. The duvet was lush and pristinely white, decorated with patterns that perfectly matched the carpet beneath it. Heavy curtains had been pulled back from the windows that stretched wide to display the gardens outside the palace. A dozen freshly cut red roses sat on each end table adjoining the bed, and a small ottoman in the most exemplary contemporary upholstery sat at the foot.

Iris watched as I admired the room and ran my fingers across the bedding. She was patient, allowing me to circle the bedchamber before offering me a grin and grasping my hand. Then, she led me into the spacious, and notably empty, walk-in closet, with an abundance of room for clothes and shoes. She wasted no time there, promising we would fill it before yanking me into the bathroom.

A chandelier larger than any other in the suite hung above the oversized marble tub. The tub was cylindrical, with pillars stretching up and curtains for privacy. White towels, markedwith the bident of Hyrax, hung from the walls beneath the impossibly clear mirror of the vanity. A double-sink countertop offered an array of skincare and perfumes for me to choose from.

I admired the space momentarily before even the bathroom became too much to accept. Wordlessly, I stumbled back into the parlor where we had entered and fell onto the chaise in a heap. Dimitri had not followed us into the apartments, choosing instead to stand guard outside the doors, and I was grateful for the privacy. I certainly did not want many people to see the state of shock I was in. Who knew how people would perceive my reaction?

I should feel grateful for all this, but I only felt… confused.

How could I be in a prison cell one moment and told I was the keeper of such luxury the next?

What had I even done to deserve any of this?

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