Page 69 of Court of Treachery

“Is this how you treat your family?” She looked down at herself for the first time, and her own lips curled in disgust. She was filthy. Not just with dirt, but with blood and gore. She already felt immune to the smell of it, for which she was grateful, for the stench of the battlefield had been enough to make her want to vomit.

Saradon paused before her, raising his eyebrow and cocking his head. “What do you mean, daughter?”

“You keep your familyin filth and squalor? I have been locked in a windowless, airless tomb for heavens knows how long. You would treat me so, yet desire my respect, my loyalty, my familial love?” She scoffed at the ridiculousness of the idea.

Saradon drew himself up, and Harper felt the crackle of his anger in the very air. “You will not disrespect me again thusly, daughter. Yet I will be merciful. I will show you the kindness which you so clearly do not expect to see. You will be moved to better quarters at once, as befits my heir.” He nodded at Dimitrius to make it so.

Harper narrowed her eyes. “Will you do the same for my friends?”

Saradon laughed. “No.”

“I demand it!” she said, puffing out her chest with far more bravado than she felt.

His brooding anger cracked like a whip around them, as though lightning rove the air. “Do not presume your status grants you the right to act with such impunity.”

Her own anger rallied against his, but his was the weight of the mountain, quashing hers.

“Why care you, daughter? They are no one. Forget them. You are where you belong at last. With your kin.”

“I’d rather be anywhere else.” She turned to leave, but he froze her where she stood. She screamed in frustration. “Let me go!”

“Not until you learn respectfor your elders and your betters, daughter,” he hissed. “I own you and your loyalty. I shall have it, whether you will it or not.” His bared teeth mirrored hers as he drew closer, bending until they were level, their eyes locked.

Panic clutched her chest at his words. His power clamped down upon her until she could not so much as blink of her ownvolition, and even her chest ceased rising and falling. Dizziness swooped over her as he held on, like a wolf to her throat, slowly starving her body of air. All at once, his control vanished. She crumpled to the floor, smashing against the stone. Harper lay upon it, gasping, as her vision cleared and her body stabbed with pain.

“Rise.” His command was laced with magic. Her protesting body slowly forced itself to kneel, then stand. Dimitrius still stood immobile beside her. Why would he not help her—say something? But she knew the answer. He did not dare.

“Will you give yourself to me, daughter? Or must I show you the error of your ways and the righteous path?” Saradon’s tone was hard, brittle. When he drew himself up, she realised just how tall and imposing he was.

I am a fool, but I will not yield, she thought. She said nothing, forcing herself to stand properly—to straighten her shoulders, hold her head high, and stiffen her limbs. Last of all, she walled away the fear, which sapped at the dregs of her depleted energy.

“Answer me,” Saradon growled. Darkness clung to him as the shadows deepened.

“I will not serve you,” she answered through gritted teeth.

60

HARPER

Fury flashed across Saradon’s face, which was swiftly veiled. He stepped forward and struck Harper across the cheek, sending her sprawling to the floor once more. Her ears rang from the strength of his impact, and her jaw blinded her with pulsing pain. She heard his voice as if from a distance as inky blackness wrapped itself around her and tendrils of his power seeped into her.

“Youwillserve me, daughter, whether you will it or not. I will not see the words of Erendriel hold sway over my destiny.” His voice darkened and deepened, crackling with a power the likes of which she could not fully perceive. It blanketed the space, smothered her—and sent her heart into a frenzy at the prospect of her impending demise.

“Get her out of my sight,” he commanded. She realised that he spoke to Dimitrius. “I have more work to do persuading the Indis to join us. I will return to continue this. I expect you to have managed her better the next time I lay eyes upon her.”

She felt Saradon’s gaze, even with her eyes closed, as though it pierced into the core of her soul. She cowered before it, curling away from his attention. Then it passed and Saradon, along withhis power, was gone, but Harper had nothing left to give. She faded into the welcome, cool, dark embrace of unconsciousness.

Soothing, wet warmth bathed her forehead. Gentle hands stroked the pain away, passing the soft cloth across her cheeks and back to her forehead again, moving in a slow, comforting sweep across her brow. Magic chased it, the welcome tingle calming as it banished away the angry pain in her jaw, along with the dull aches and jarring hurt elsewhere in her body.

Hands grasped hers, soft and warm. The wet cloth passed over her fingers and between them, across her palms, as whoever tended to her meticulously cleaned her. Her hand was gently placed back onto her stomach—onto a coverlet there, she registered a moment later, soft and warm—before the other was picked up and the same treatment administered. Light, gentle and warm, filtered through her closed eyelids. A familiar scent drifted across her, though she could not place from where. It was too much to open her eyes. She slipped into the darkness once more.

When next she came to, the same hands once more bathed her forehead. She felt burning hot—the wet cloth cool upon her brow. She moaned a little, turning her face into the cloth. Now she could feel the soft, smooth, woollen coverlet beneath her hands. Her fingers circled lazily upon it, relishing the comfort. The light was brighter this time. Everything still hurt, though the tingle of magic still ran through her, banishing the worst of it.She slowly cracked her eyes open, one at a time, for even the dim light felt oppressively bright after her descent into the dark.

Her lips curled into a faint smile as she slowly turned her head to behold the hands that had tended her. She froze when she saw who they belonged to.

“Hello, Harper,” said Dimitrius evenly. He sat on the bed beside her. His hands lay in his lap, the cloth in his grasp.

“You,” she croaked with as much vehemence as she could inject into her feeble tone.

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