Page 43 of The Rose in the Shadows

“We all wanted to make sure you were okay.” Kent clamped a hand down, supportively, over my shoulder, but I flinched from the suddenness of it.

It was all too much at once.

My reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Iris’s brow furrowed, and she sent a panicked expression to Clay as if silently asking how bad things had gotten. He still hid his feelings under a mask of cool calculation, eyes darting between us.

I felt Camilla’s gaze on me before I turned to her, but sure enough, her dark eyes roamed over the sight of my bloodied dress and apron.

“Rough night?” She smirked mockingly.

Iris chastised her quickly, and Lorelai smoothed my hair, offering praises to the Gods that I was still okay, but their words hardly registered. They hadn’t noticed it, of course, but I had. I’d seen the moment Clay’s veins slowly darkened again when Camilla entered the room. That darkness stretched up his inner arms, neck, and jawline. His fists clenched as she leered down at me.

Perhaps it was the intimacy of him saving my life, but I suddenly felt wholly attuned to him. I felt his every movement, even from feet away, and I knew whatever was coming next wouldn’t be good.

He turned to face the guards. “Dimitri, please stand post outside of Miss Moore’s door this evening; the rest of you are dismissed. Go. Now.”

His voice was sharp, domineering. Tension flooded the room as Kent and Rankor shared an anxious glance at each other over our heads. Gone was their childhood friend. This was their Crown Prince, and he was giving orders.

The guards bustled out of the room, each bowing to me in a silent procession until only Dimitri remained. He pledged his word that no more harm would come to me tonight, nodded to his prince, and closed the door tightly behind him. And then the only people remaining were those in the small circle of friends I had created in my time here and the prince, who was now more Dragon than man. I gulped unintentionally, adrenaline still coursing through my body, setting every nerve on edge.

“Iris, please help Miss Moore get cleaned up,” Clay commanded.

She nodded wordlessly, pulling me up from my chair and leading me into the bathroom. She began rinsing washcloths and brushing them against my cheeks in rushed and sharp movements. And though she tended to me, her eyes remained locked on the other room.

Iris was afraid, I realized. And that realization was terrifying, because I'd never seen Iris scared before.

“I can do it,” I told her, grasping the cloth and approaching the mirror.

I hardly recognized the woman who greeted me. The handkerchief had fallen from my hair, and now the curls were damp and matted down in sweat, the ends stained with blood. My white dress was now splattered in scarlet too as if someone had dumped paint onto me unceremoniously. Dried blood coated my cheeks, neck, and hands. The worst of it was my eyes though.

The blood vessels must have burst during the coughing fit, and now they were entirely red. I looked…. inhuman.

I certainly looked like a child born from Hyrax, one who had just narrowly escaped the confines of the Underworld.

No wonder Clay had wanted to keep this attack quiet. If the castle already doubted my intentions, seeing me like this would not likely win points in my favor.

The sudden urge to sob took me by surprise.

No.

I would not cry. I refused to do that.

I swallowed the knot in my throat and scrubbed violently at my face. Numbly, I was aware I might irritate the skin in a way that would leave marks for the next few days, but I didn’t care. I was desperate to remove any sign of what had happened to me.

“Camilla, I will ask you this once.” I heard Clay’s voice from the other room. “How did a hex bag end up in the suites of a royal Descendant?”

Iris’ eyes widened suddenly. Clay thought Camilla did this? Before I even consciously decided I wanted to, I pushed past Iris into the bedchamber so that I could see what was happening. I didn’t care if Clay had just ordered me out. If they were going to talk about what happened to me, I needed to be there.

Camilla stood near the entryway as if she had taken a few steps back since I’d gone to the bathroom. Her shoulders slumped, and she kept her eyes averted from the weight of Clay’s gaze. Kent and Rankor still exchanged glances of worry with each other, but neither interfered as Clay started towards her. Iris raced after me, reaching for Lorelai and pulling her away from the group and back towards where I hovered on the edges.

“Best to stay out of the way,” Lorelai whispered, patting my free hand.

What in all of creation did she mean by that?

Camilla shook her head rapidly, utterly focused on Clay. “I know nothing about this!”

Clay's eyes were shrouded with the promise of violence as his lips tipped up in a vicious smile. He looked so different from the version of him that had coached me to use my powers and told me his secrets hours ago. This version of him was… deadly

“You don’t?" He growled. "I find a Witch’s hex bag in this room, and you, the only Witch to have been here, know nothing about it?”

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