Page 17 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“Andyouare no longer royalty here.” The sneer shifted into a scowl, forming lines between his eyebrows. “You’ll watch the way you speak to me, or you’ll realize soon enough nothing good comes from being spoiled.”

“This is the second time you’ve called me spoiled. If you knew anything about me, then you’d realize it’s no insult. You can go straight to hell.” Aven snapped out the words and immediately regretted them.

The man’s smile returned, and he stalked closer to the bars with a predatory elegance. “A few hours in solitude will teach you some manners.” He turned on his heel and disappeared, leaving her gaping after him.

No meal came for her that night. Nothing but a pitcher of water flung through the bars with little care. The jostle spilledmost of the water from the pitcher, but Aven lunged for it, uncaring if they’d drugged it or not. Every gulp of water soothed the ache in her throat. She downed it all, gasping for breath, water sloshing down her chin.

She wiped her face with the excess and let it air-dry.

Sleep remained a million miles away, and why wouldn’t it? Every time she closed her eyes, the image of her siblings returned, real enough to curdle her stomach.

Exhaustion pressed down heavily on Aven, although she somehow wasn’t surprised when the fae nobleman returned the following morning, this time with two of his little buddies in tow. Those bright blue eyes glowed in the light of the lantern they carried with them.

He sniffed once, his expression darkening and his gaze going inevitably to the bucket in the corner. “Did no one think to clean up after you?” He cocked his head to the side. “Ah yes, that’s right. There are no servants here to cater to your every whim. Poor little Princess.”

Aven forced her legs over the side of the wooden plank and met his gaze with one of her own. “You really want to start off with the spoiled royal thing? This is only the second time I’ve seen you, and it’s getting old already. I’m sure you’re a huge bore.”

“What did I tell you?” The man’s pale skin seemed to glow as he elbowed one of his friends in the side. “She’s got quite a mouth on her.”

Aven blinked away a haze of rage at the way the three of them stared at her.

“There are things you could do to that mouth to teach her a lesson, Roran,” the man on the left murmured.

The handsome male,Roran, lifted an eyebrow at Aven. “She might like that. Would you, little princess? Would you like to have me teach you the lessons of life? I’d be the best teacher you’d ever have. You’d remember me for the rest of your pathetically short life.”

“I’d rather kiss a mule,” she replied sweetly. She locked her knees when the room around her began to spin. Her empty stomach clenched. “Although your attempts at flirting are charming. I’m sure you’re drowning in marriage prospects.”

“There are benefits to having my favor, you know. It seems to me you’re not very smart if you think an insult will draw me to your side.” A vicious smile twisted his sensuous lips high.

She hated him. Hated this stranger with every fiber of her being, even as something drew her toward him. A distraction, maybe, from her pain.

Sparring with him gave her an edge. A bite she desperately needed.

“I have a feeling nothing I say will make any bit of difference. Unless you’d like to let me out of this cell and have a discussion face-to-face. Or do you not trust me without the benefit of the bars? And your friends?” She glanced at each of the other men in turn and forced her voice to go solid, strong. “The fae male and the poor human girl. I have a reputation for gutting fae like you from navel to neck.”

His attention dropped to her breasts. Aven noticed the movement, confused by it. “There is nothing wrong with wanting a little bit of company on my rounds through the dungeon. Usually the sight of these two keeps your prison mates in line.” He gestured toward the grunts behind him and chuckled. “Today they wanted a good look at you.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to be kept in line.” Aven clapped slowly. “I guess youhaveheard of me.”

“Then a few more days down here will certainly do wonders for your mental health.” Roran bobbed his head in farewell before he and his cronies disappeared.

The one on the left, however, with a cruel scar cutting across his chin, lingered a moment behind the others. He flashed his teeth at her in an entirely unpleasant leer, full of the promise of heat and violence, before following his master.

She wanted to call out after them to obey like the good dogs they were and bit her tongue.

How much longer were they going to keep her without food? The water only went so far.

Judging from her interactions with Roran, no one cared about her. She was their enemy and a fine conquest, and the king might have gotten what he wanted out of her father, but what they wanted from her remained to be seen.

7

The passage of time meant nothing in the dungeon.

Hours passed and might have been weeks for all she knew. Another pitcher of water was thrown at her, and this time she drank less greedily, conserving some to wash the grime from her face and hands. Eventually, a hammered metal plate was forced through the bars of the door—a feast of stale bread and a hunk of cheese hard enough to crack her teeth.

Her first meal in days.

The few bites of cheese were nothing short of miraculous until her stomach churned, too long empty to handle food as she once would have. Aven forced herself to slow down and make the meal last.

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