Page 35 of Heir of the Beast

“I knew from the moment I saw you that something was off, but I just could not figure it out. I have very respected sources that say they caught you multiple times pining for His Grace’s attention.

“That reason alone is why I rarely keep slaves as comely as yourself here at the castle.” She continues as she glances around the room.

“Eye contact with the royal family is forbidden on the highest level, and this you should know already! I should have seen the red flag sooner. A beautiful girl without a past?”

She laughs, her eyes seeming to bulge out of their sockets. “If you are a spy, then you will be dealt with lethally.

“I shall inform His Grace of our allegations. His Grace is very sensitive to Infiltrators, seeing how His Majesty has fallen ill.”

“I am not a spy—”

Speckled blackness clouds my vision as pain erupts on the side of my face. I glance back at the headmaster in shock.

She is still holding up her leather whip like she will do it again, and she does, even harder this time. I scream as my neck jerks so hard to the left that I feel it crack.

I feel warm liquid run from my nose down to my chin.

“Speak again without being asked and I will crush it,” she hisses with a smile.

If she didn’t already.

She stands, and I think I hear her saying that I cannot leave this place until Prince Apollo returns from his raid on outlaws on the outskirts of Garthorn. I could be in here for weeks.

My vision swims and my head pounds in fury. The pain is so great I feel numb. I hear Mort calling my name, but it’s no good. I pass out cold.

Light as a feather.

***

It has been four days, and I feel weak.

Defeated.

Thirsty—starved.

I have been consuming barely enough questionable water and stale bread to stay alive. The ground is cold, and I have been laying in murky water for a while now.

I think I hear dripping coming from my left, though I am too tired to raise my head and look. This Fairy Godmother adventure has turned into something I’d rather not be a part of.

But I am still too proud to use a lifeline. I will not give Laura the satisfaction that she got to me.

I’m just dying on the ground from hypothermia and starvation, no biggie. I probably have some virus from the murky water I’m lying in, but I will not give up just yet.

I am made from thicker stuff than that.

Mort has been doing her best with her shapeshifting abilities, morphing into random bugs to see what is happening outside this dungeon cell. She has been gone for hours now, and I am about to lose my mind.

I just keep running scenarios of payback, revenge. Maybe I will out her birthright in front of everyone, pointing and shouting. I don’t see that plan going wrong at all.

~Vengeance~, I repeat to myself.

Mort finally returns. I can see the little butterfly fit under the metal door and flutter in. “Mort!” My voice cracks.

She materializes next to me, her face pale and out of breath. “I was almost eaten by a cat.”

“Oh geez,” I whisper, feeling dizzy as I try to sit up, water dripping from my tangled hair.

“It’s nuts out there. The castle staff is preparing for a grand masquerade in honor of Apollo’s safe return and victory,” Mort says, and smiles at me.

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