Page 22 of Broken Princess
5
Willow
Jamie finally letme out of the dungeon somewhere around eleven. He took me straight back upstairs to my room and dumped me on the bed with a muttered threat about more torture if I didn’t stay in line from now on.
I was so exhausted and agonized that I curled into a ball under the blankets and slept for what felt like an eternity. No one came to get me for lunch or dinner, presumably figuring that I was in no state to eat.
That was fine by me. The thought of eating made me feel nauseated. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and disappear into my dreams, the only safe haven I had left.
I awoke sometime in the night with a start. I lay there with my stomach churning, wondering what it was that had roused me. I had no memory of dreams, good or bad, only a sudden jerk into consciousness.
I closed my eyes and pulled the blankets up around my chin, heart pounding. Then it came again. A noise. Footsteps in the hall outside my room. Slow and measured. Heavy and hollow.
Closer and closer.
I sat up, adrenaline flushing through my body. The door slowly creaked open and the light went on.
I blinked rapidly at the figure on the threshold, trying to catch my breath. I felt like I’d just been punched in the chest from the inside.
Liz Thorne was standing there.
“What… what are you doing here?” I asked, hands trembling on the blanket.
She smiled sweetly. “What do you think I’m doing here?” she said, depositing a large black case on the floor at her feet.
Deep down, I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to say it. That would make it real, and this couldn’t be real.
No, it had to be a nightmare.
I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands, feeling the wheeze in my chest as my lungs struggled to take in enough oxygen to stabilize my racing pulse. “No, no, no,” I whispered to myself, pushing down the sobs in my throat.
“Oh, for god’s sake, Willow,” Liz snapped. “Open your eyes.”
I did as she said, fearfully gazing up at her. “It’s you,” I said in a small voice. “You’re Q.”
“That’s right.”
I stared at the wall behind her as something twisted in the pit of my stomach. It felt like the bottom of the world had fallen out. “How can it be you?” I murmured.
“Leadership of the Order was transferred to me from my uncle when I turned thirty,” she said with a smug smile. “But I was groomed for the position for years before that. I knew it was mine from the time I was sixteen or seventeen.”
“Does your husband know?”
She laughed. “No, of course not.”
“What about Logan?” I asked, heart pounding even faster. If he’d figured it out, he could be in serious trouble.
She shook her head. “He doesn’t know either. In fact, he’s so clueless about my true identity that he’s actually started listening to your advice. He came to me last night wanting to start a new tradition where we drink tea and chat by the fire every night. Isn’t that adorable?”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and lowered my eyes to the bed. “I don’t understand any of this,” I muttered. “I don’t understand how you could’ve been Q all along.”
“Well, I’d love to explain, but it would take a long time,” Liz said, eyes gleaming as she stepped closer.
I weakly lifted a hand, gesturing at the room around us. “I have nothing better to do.”
“Hm. That’s true,” she said, perching on the end of the bed. “I suppose I can answer any questions you have. It’s not like you’ll be able to tell anyone.” She laughed again and leaned closer. “So… what do you want to know, Willow?”
“Everything,” I said, throwing my hands up. “What’s the point of the Order? How the hell does it work? And why?”
