Page 24 of The Shadowbound King

Without opening his eyes, the man, who was apparently called Ginhad, lifted a finger in her direction. “First of all, I’m not hungover. Second of all, I’m still drunk.”

The first woman clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. As I studied her, I realized her dress wasn’t the only thing that matched her companion. The women were identical, from their dark brown hair to their bright blue eyes.

The second woman glanced at me before addressing Ginhad. “The human is awake.”

“What?” He straightened, swaying a bit as he faced my cage. “Leaves and berries, she is, indeed.” Clearing his throat, he crossed the chamber. Or, at least, he started to. Halfway to the cage, he wobbled, his face turning a pale, sickly green.

“Oh,” he said in a surprisingly calm tone. “I’m gonna hurl.”

One of the women moved in a blur, grabbing a giant vase from a nearby table. She thrust it under his chin just ashe doubled over and retched. The sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the vase echoed through the chamber.

Wrinkling my nose, I shrank back from the bars.

The woman leaned away from the vase even as she continued holding it. “Ugh.”

After a few more halfhearted heaves, Ginhad lifted his head. He dragged the back of his hand over his forehead, his expression suddenly brighter. “I should have done that hours ago.”

Scowling, the woman shoved the vase into his chest.

“Right,” he said, glancing at me as he held the vase against him. “I’ll just…get rid of this.” He hurried toward the arched opening on the other side of the chamber.

The women looked at me, then each other. Some kind of unspoken communication seemed to flow between them, and they glided forward, their green skirts flowing around their ankles. As they neared the cage, I realized they weren’t completely identical. The woman on the left had leaves and some kind of leaping, hooved animal tattooed around her neck. Her sister’s tattoos were more delicate, with swirling flowers and dainty hummingbirds that descended to her collarbones before disappearing under her gown.

But the designs weren’t tattoos. At least, not completely. They wereshadows. And like the other elves I’d seen, the women were probably shapeshifters. I couldn’t let myself forget the danger they posed.

“All better!” Ginhad strode from the opening with the vase in his hands. When the twins turned toward him, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I rinsed it.” He placed the vase back in its spot and stepped back. “There. No harm done.”

“Tell that to my appetite,” the twin with the bolder tattoos said under her breath.

Ginhad’s expression was unbothered as he crossed to the cage. “Well, you’ve still got plenty of time until tonight’s feast.” He frowned. “Or is it still yesterday? I mean, tomorrow.” He closed his eyes. “I have to start writing these things down.”

“It’s today,” the other twin said. “And morning.”

He opened his eyes and squinted at the windows. “Is it? That probably shouldn’t surprise me.” He met my stare, his green eyes the color of leaves. His ears were pierced, several studs and jeweled hoops decorating his lobes. Now that the green had fled his face, he was handsome if a little unconventional with a full, pouty mouth and a nose that turned up at the end. His neck was completely free of tattoos.

Before I could puzzle over their absence, a guilty expression crossed his features. “Um, so I’m Ginhad, the castle steward. I was supposed to come in here shortly after you arrived, but the whole Embervale was buzzing with speculation about you and Walto and what it all means, you know? Kegs were opened and mistakes were made. Good news, though, I’m not above groveling to win you over?—”

Wait. Why did he want to win me over?

“—and then hopefully, fingers crossed, myverytemporary lapse in competence never makes it to King Andrin’s ears, yes?”

Ah. That was why. I gripped the bars. “You want me to cover up for you.”

“No!” He waved his hands. “Gods, nothing like that. It’s just that the king can be”—Ginhad leaned toward me and spoke out the side of his mouth—“intense.”

“I noticed.”

Ginhad pointed at me. “See? You get it.” He clapped his hands once. “Anyway, I’m here now and ready to work!” His brow furrowed as he took in my ragged braid and wrinkled gown. “Wow, you’rereallydirty.”

I bristled. He’d just puked in a vase, and he had the gall to critique my appearance? “I didn’t bring a change of clothes. Something to remember for my next kidnapping.”

Ginhad’s eyes widened. “I’m going to like you,” he breathed in a tone approaching awe. He shook himself, then leaned forward and peered between the bars. “Quick question, did anyone bring you food?”

“No,” I said. “And if you have the power to open this cage, you should do it quickly. Unless you like urine on your cushions.”

The twin with the delicate tattoos opened her mouth?—

“Nuh-uh,” Ginhad said, putting a finger over her lips. “What do we say about other people’s kinks?” He pulled his finger away and gave her an expectant look.

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