Page 26 of King of Storms and Feathers

“It is now. Better learn to answer to it.”

A flash of light over Raiden’s shoulders drew my eyes to the floor above, the top level of the king’s apartment. I inhaled sharply.

The front section of the bedchamber floor cut away in the shape of a large crescent moon. A pair of white stairs swept from either side of the sitting room, the level my prison attached to, and wound gracefully up to the king’s bedroom.

From where I sat, I had a perfect view of the Storm King’s enormous black and gold bed, and from it, he would have a perfect view of me, chained and helpless below him. The only place he likely couldn’t watch me from was the river room on the first level. But as Raiden had warned, I probably wouldn’t spend much time there.

Nausea rushed over me as my new reality tightened like a band of gold around my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I was just like the pathetic auron kanara, trapped in a pretty cage, my life reduced to making noise to gain attention and hoping that someone would remember to feed me.

The only way to escape the chains and get past the guards would be with help. If I survived long enough, perhaps Raiden or a servant who attended the king’s chambers would eventually take pity on me. Unlikely, but it was probably my only option to get out of here and return home. Wherever home was.

Slippers whispered on the stairs, then the Sayeeda appeared on the landing carrying a tray that held tiny ceramic jars and a bowl of water. As she approached, Raiden’s breathing visibly quickened. He stepped backward, away from me, and cleared his throat.

Interesting. The king’s guard wished he had a Sayeeda of his own.

Without looking at Raiden, the Sayeeda gestured for me to stand. With a gentle touch, she inspected the damage from the asshole guards, then cleaned my scratches with pungent herbal water and dried my skin with a soft towel.

Her golden eyes stared into mine as she applied cream to my wounds. She tapped the crease of my elbow, where the pinprick mark had crusted over. “You inject serum?” she asked.

“Doubt it. I don’t remember ever doing so.”

“I believe you. Your eyes are too clear for you to be an addict. But you have been injected with something.”

I squinted at the mark. “It could be an insect bite.”

“No,” she replied, pressing it with her thumb. “This was made by a needle.” Gripping my cheeks between her palms, she turned my face left, then right. “Where are you from, Leaf?”

Her voice dipped low when she spoke my new name, as if it rankled her to say it out loud. Perhaps she was jealous that the king chose it.

“You speak the common language well enough, but your forest eyes don’t hide your cunning quite as well as you think. I doubt you come from a tribe of gold chasers. If you’ll trust me with whatever it is you’re hiding about your origins, perhaps I can help you.”

It took cunning to recognize it in another, and out of all the fae, elves were known to be the sliest. The Sayeeda was not only untrustworthy, but dangerous.

“As I’ve already told you, I don't remember my home. The lump on my head and needle mark on my arm indicate that someone has successfully stolen my memories.”

She patted my cheek and released me. “What has been forgotten, will be remembered. We’ll make sure of it.” She placed the lids on her jars. “What do you think of the name the king gifted you?”

“It’s hardly a gift,” I replied.

A smirk flickered over the Sayeeda’s shimmering lips as she wiped her hands on a cloth, then placed the jars on the tray. “That remains to be seen.” She untied a gold shawl from her waist and held it out. “The night breeze is cool. You will need this.”

I accepted the woolen shawl, hugging it to my chest. “Thank you for your mercy.”

“What you did this evening was an offense punishable by death, if my master chooses. It isn’t my mercy you need.”

As I met her shrewd gaze, I let my focus soften, pretending to be affected by a dose of serum.

The Sayeeda collected her tray and murmured something to Raiden about the king having taken his medicine already. Then they walked across the stone bridge and left the king’s apartment by the stairs on the right.

Unfurling my clenched fists, I wrapped the Sayeeda’s shawl around my shoulders and strode forward until my chain pulled taut, discovering I could walk around the pavilion’s perimeter with ease.

At least if I became desperate, I could fling myself over the edge and hang from my ankles until I died or wrap the chain around my neck and strangle the last breath from my lungs.

Rough stone grated my skin as I leaned against a column and slid to the floor. I curled my knees into my chest and studied the night view while the breeze sifted through my hair, soothing my nerves.

Stars sparkled in an indigo sky, shining brighter than the city lights below. The crescent moon illuminated a dark mountain range in the distance, storm clouds rumbling above them.

Those guards might have killed me tonight if the king and his party hadn’t arrived when they did. Arrowyn saved my life, or at the very least, my virtue—if I still possessed it. The slavers from the gilt market could have done anything to me while I was unconscious.

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