Page 21 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“For some reason, Cillian is finally of the mindset that we would be best served by making you comfortable and safe,” Roran was saying behind her. When Aven failed to move, he pushed her over the threshold, the brush of his fingers carrying the same electric charge as his magic. A physical jolt shot through her at his touch. “He’s decided you’ve been held in the dungeons long enough.”

“He should come and say it to my face,” Aven murmured.

The room was a dream. Much better than her space at home, which had been fit for someone of her status.

The entire wall behind the bed was made of a living tree with purple flowers hanging down from every branch. Glowing lights glinted between the flowers like fireflies in the summer.Thoseshe hadn’t seen for years. They stopped coming when the plant life began to fail, a devastating consequence of their war with Mourningvale.

The walls were painted a pale purple like the first lilacs of the spring season, with golden moldings around the windows and the ceiling. The rugs underfoot were soft, and her feet sank down into them with every forward step. A soft breeze filteredin through the open windows, but rather than soothe her frayed nerves, it tightened her chest. The curse she wanted to let loose got stuck there.

The bed itself could fit four of her with her limbs splayed. Arched windows gave her a perfect view of the gardens below, the tall swaying trees she’d glimpsed on her way in, and all of it gilded in sunlight.

Her mouth went dry, and she barely saw the platters of fresh fruit situated on a small round table in the center of the room.

A marble fireplace sat cold and empty, stacked with white logs in preparation for any sort of evening chill.

“I’m sure you’ll find this to your liking,” Roran snapped.

Nothing but a trap, she was sure. She turned on Roran with her arms limp at her side.

“We’ll allow you to clean yourself up. There are dresses hanging in the armoire.” Roran gestured with his nose, and although he maintained his usual poised stature, the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

Ather.

Had he known about this before word came down from above? Known about the suite and chosen to torment her?

A glint of mischief lightened his eyes. “I look forward to seeing what sort of picture you present, once you’ve traded the rags for something morefeminine.”

Aven opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought about his opinion, but another pulse of magic closed the door behind Roran, shutting her inside with the flick of a lock. For a long moment, she stood there trembling, her hands clenching into fists. Waiting, just waiting, for something to happen. For the beautiful scene around her to disappear. She’d be right back in the cell with all of this a dream, something forced on her by that cursed fae magic.

When seconds turned to minutes and nothing changed, Aven pinched herself, hissing at the flash of pain.

Nothing changed.

And damn her, but hunger and exhaustion made fools out of smart warriors. She fell on the platters of fresh fruit and vegetables, carrots like orange spears and cucumber slices the size of her hand. She devoured as much as her body would allow.

No more dry bread or hard cheese. No more dried meats and hunks of dehydrated fruit leather. This was all fresh produce. Fresh and bright and so flavorful the taste brought tears to her eyes.

Once she filled herself to bursting, her stomach now uncomfortably full, she explored the room. Her first step was to hide her wand before anyone realized she still had it on her.

She tucked it into the slats beneath the bed.

Then took her time examining the armoire. The array of dresses—tears pricked her eyes. The twins would have loved it. The fabrics were velvety soft, silks and spun materials she’d never seen before, all of them in rainbow hues. And, she was willing to bet, all of them in her size.

Another trick, she knew. There was no way her freedom had been traded only for her to be treated like an honored guest.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before the other brother, Cillian, showed his face, Aven peeked into the second door in her room and found a bathing chamber. Even this massive room was larger than her space at home. Lanterns hung on the wall by magic glowed brighter at her approach. She scanned the space and shuddered.

She was here, alive. She was safe enough for now. Those things had to count for something.

For what was to come, she’d rather be clean and full to face.

A soft breeze trickled through the open windows over the large circular tub. Aven gripped the cool edge of the tub beforeturning to the faucet, flicking it open and watching clear water shoot out through the spigot.

If the room was a dream, then the bathroom itself washeaven.

She scoured this room too, looking for any hidden dangers while the tub filled. Despite finding nothing out of the ordinary, she flipped the lock on the arched bathroom doorway. The fae would be able to get through without an issue if they were determined. Yet it didn’t stop her from soaking in the hot water for longer than she would have.

Actual hot water, steam floating above its rippling surface, its temperature never cooling. The glow from the lights danced over the water’s surface. Like she was a guest rather than a spoil of war.

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