Page 32 of King of Storms and Feathers

“How does the river work?” I asked.

“A combination of machinery and magic. If you behave yourself, when I return to tidy the river room tomorrow, you can keep me company and enjoy the waterfall again. I can see it soothes you.”

“Thank you. If I’m still alive, I’d love to,” I said. “Ari, if what I did to the envoy was so bad, why hasn’t the king killed me or at least beaten me senseless?”

“I’m sure he has more creative punishments in mind, Leaf.”

Ari walked over, took a key from around her neck, and unlocked my chain from the floor. Fighting the breeze, she tucked a gold curl behind her ear and narrowed her eyes at me. “How are you coping with the serum?”

Shit. I’d forgotten to pretend I was drug-affected.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Since last night, it hasn’t seemed as strong. Probably because it’s providing pain relief from the bruises those guards gave me.”

“Perhaps,” she said, not looking convinced.

We mounted the curving stairs that led to the sitting room, but before she returned me to the pavilion, she stopped at a closet and rustled through clothes, pulling out sparkling lengths of material.

“I’ve had an idea,” she said, holding them out. “Put this on.”

“What idea?”

“Just do what you’re told.”

I took them, and she tucked the end of my chain underneath my tunic so it wouldn’t get in the way while I changed. For a moment, I pictured strangling her with the chain, her gold eyes bulging as the life drained out of them.

Guilt heated my cheeks. The Sayeeda was as much a prisoner of the Storm Court as I was.

“What is this?” I asked, stretching the linked bits of material between my hands.

“New clothes. Something I hope will bring out King Arrowyn’s merciful side. Despite what you think, he does have one. His father dressed all of his chamber slaves in such alluring outfits.”

It was likely the Sayeeda had serviced Arrow’s needs many times over, so she should know what excited him. By the dust, I’d rather work in the mines than spend even one night arousing the fae who owned me. But then again, if I wanted to buy time to plan an escape, what choice did I have? The king’s whore I would have to become.

After I removed my tunic, she helped me tug on the material that only just covered my breasts before it crossed over my stomach and wound around my waist. More linked pieces formed tiny pants, the entire outfit little more than glamorous underwear.

Ari applied ointment to my cuts and bruises, then attached my chain to the ring bolted into the center of the pavilion. When I asked if the king would return to his chambers today, she said she didn’t know and that he had instructed her to feed me and tend my wounds, nothing more.

After she left, I inspected the chain and the ring, tugging and twisting to test their strength. I walked the perimeter of the pavilion, studying the city and the landscape beyond, committing both to memory. A city roofed and paved in terracotta and gold and the Auryinnia Mountain range to the north. I only wished I knew where Coridon’s exits lay in relation to them.

Once again, I considered wrapping the chain around my neck and leaping off the edge of my pretty prison, but I was too stubborn to end my misery and desperate to solve the mystery of my identity.

A fae merchant below dressed in desert yellow looked up, shading his eyes to better view me. I waved, but he glanced away and hurried along the street, as if he was too frightened to interact with me.

Sighing, I decided to use my chain and the pavilion’s columns to exercise and build my strength. I ran on the spot, and then used my bodyweight to work my arms, legs, and stomach muscles, vowing that I would do this several times each day, so when the opportunity to flee arrived, I would be strong and prepared.

What else could a caged human do to pass the time?

I had no wings to flap like the fascinating and irritating auron kanara or pots and pans to scrub, like Grendal had.

All I could do was endure the punishments Arrow delivered, while hiding my determination to one day defeat him.

Chapter 9

Leaf

On a crumbling stone dais, a handsome older man sheathed his sword as a green-eyed woman at his side smiled up at him. A mass of trumpet-shaped flowers tumbled over the ruined building’s walls. Sunlight speared through towering trees, illuminating the woman’s auburn hair and the silver flecks in the man’s dark beard.

The green-eyed boy and I stood below them in a forest clearing, dressed in worn fighting leathers. This time, I was aware I was only dreaming—asleep, while caged in the Storm Court and lost in memories of my past life.

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