Page 42 of Wrath of the Never Queen

Inez laughs and shakes her head. Sunlight spills through the large windows, bathing her in gold.

“Those of us who work during the day use the beds at night, and those of us who work at night use them during the day.”

My mouth drops, appalled.

“You do not even have your own bed? And what in Saint’s name would you need to work at night for?”

“The castle requires much maintenance. And… the king can demand many things at any time.” She shrugs.

“At night?” I scratch my head.Inez casts her eyes downwards, her shoulders hunching. Her food sits half-eaten on the table between us, forgotten.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “He has favourite handmaids who he likes to summon. For…entertainment.”

My breathing quickens, and my hands curl into fists. I remember the note he sent me, summoning him.

“He is a tyrant,” I whisper, rage turning my voice to gravel. “Despicable.”

Inez clasps her hands on her lap and takes a deep breath, eyes watery.

“It is not only the women. He enjoys humiliating the men as well. The only ones who are immune are the guards, and even then…” Inez’s nostrils flare. “When they are in training, they must go through a loyalty test.”

“What is that?”

“I do not know.” She shakes her head, a deep line between her eyebrows. “Once they become a guard, they do not speak of it.”

The weight of this sits on my shoulders like lead. Half of my sandwich is in my hand but I put it back on the plate, my appetite gone.

“You do not deserve this,” I say. “None of you do.”

Inez does not respond. Her eyes are fixed on the horizon. Silently, I make her a promise. It is not only my freedom I must take but everyone’s.

Chapter 18

There are no books in my chambers or my art room for me to research the prince’s curse. I ask Vanya and Inez and even Eliza but they have only hand-written fiction, passed between them. I recall the books in the prince’s chambers and so make my way there one evening.

I use the secret passageway to avoid the guards and knock on his door. No response. When I knock again and hear nothing, I decide to try the door. It opens easily, and I peek my head around.

The prince’s chambers are empty.

I linger in the doorway, reluctant to make him think I am invading his privacy. After a few moments of dithering, I decide it is worth it. I need to understand this curse if I am to leave unscathed.

I close the door softly behind me and hurry over to the bookshelves.

The books are arranged by colour, so I am forced to tilt my head at an awkward angle to read each title individually. Still, it is more organised than Aunt Meena’s haphazard stacks, so I make do. I pass over several books about horticulture and gardening, their jackets free of dust and clearly recently used. Instead, I gravitate towards the dustier books, blowing gently on the spines so I can read the titles.

Tales for the Young, one of them says in dragon text. I frown. As far as I am aware, no dragons reside in Mossgarde anymore. They used to, many hundreds of years ago, leaving behind only faint remnants. The books in dragon text my aunt have are rare finds. To see one buried under a layer of dust in the prince’s bedchambers is strange indeed.

I delicately run a finger along the spine and make to pull it free, but the door slams open behind me. I snap up and spin, hand on my chest.

The prince is held up by two guards as they drag him into the room.

“Your Highness,” I breathe out, heart still thumping.

“Miss Shivani.” His voice is strained and weak. The guards drop him on the bed, roughly pulling his legs up.

“Leave him. I will do it.” I am not in a position to be giving out orders to the king’s guards but my voice leaves no room for them to question me. They straighten and leave withoutsaying anything else. I take over from them, gently hooking my hands under the prince’s knees and arranging him comfortably on the bed. His skin is still half-wet with blood, and only a blanket covers him.

“I did not know you had turned,” I tell him. An apology is layered underneath that I was not there with him.

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