Page 91 of Ruled By Magic

I recognized a few of the spirits, but most were unfamiliar. A bar jutted in front of the wall of bottles, with taps for cask drinks. The bartender, a tall man with dark, curly hair and striking blue eyes, bowed low when he saw the prince.

“Your Highness. What can I get you and your guests?”

Adante looked to Leo. “I’ll let my guest choose. Lord Commander?”

Leo studied the options, eventually pointing to a brand I didn’t recognize. He wouldn’t have a clue. “Let’s give this a try.”

The bartender nodded. “Certainly, my lord.” He selected two glasses, then paused with a glance at me. “For the lady too?” He addressed the question to Leo. Typical.

“Why not?” said Leo. His gaze flicked to me, and I could tell he was battling amusement. “She behaved well this evening. Worked hard to please me, and she’s very sore. She deserves a drink.”

I took a deep breath. He was having far too much fun with this. I hoped he’d be able to reign himself in once we returned home.

The men, bartender included, exchanged smirks. Laughing at my expense seemed to transcend even the stratified Ataran social hierarchy. I looked forward to the calming effect of the alcohol. I needed it.

The bartender poured the spirit, clear as water, into glasses and handed them over. I sniffed. Strong smelling, with a hint of something fruity. Probably nice with a mixer, but rough as a shot.

“The toast is yours, Brother.” Adante swirled the liquid in his glass. The alcohol coated the sides.

“To new beginnings,” said Leo. Cliché, but appropriate.

The men downed their drinks in one gulp, and I copied. The shot burned on the way down, making me cough. It hit my stomach and I coughed again, throat tingling.

Leo frowned, and I tried to get myself together. Couldn’t give Adante an excuse to punish me. I worked my throat, swallowing, but the tingling sensation didn’t dissipate. It only grew stronger. The burning in my gut radiated out through my body.

I broke into another coughing fit, doubled over. The first tendrils of panic came to life. Something was wrong. I tried to draw a deep breath and coughed again. My throat constricted.

My legs went out from under me. I grasped Leo’s jacket as my knees buckled and he spun, eyes wide.

“Liv? What’s wrong?”

I struggled to speak, but the air was slow to come. It wheezed into my lungs with painful effort. My throat and insides burned, red-raw.

Help.

I needed help, a doctor, something.

Leo’s hands gripped under my arms and he lowered me to the floor, sinking down beside me.

“Call a doctor!” he shouted. “She can’t breathe!”

Adante didn’t move. An icy spike of fear cut through my panic as he smiled, reptilian and cold. I forced in another ragged, agonizing breath.

“She seems to be in some difficulty,” Adante said, holding his glass out to the bartender, who refilled it with just as little concern. He took a sip. “Still, plenty more non-mage sluts out there. You can replace her.”

“What are you doing? Call a doctor!”

Leo’s voice held a frantic edge. His fingers dug into my upper arms. I wanted to reach for him, but my hands no longer worked. Every breath felt like gargling with broken glass.

I’m going to die.

A sob lay trapped in my frozen throat. Panic shredded my senses, blazed through me as I fought for air.

“Adante!” Leo yelled. He surged to his feet, blue power crackling around him. “Call a doctor or I’ll—”

“You’ll do as I say.” The prince’s voice cut across him, sharp as the crack of a whip. “Your precious little slut has five minutes to live. Allow my men to bind your magic, and I’ll give her the antidote. Or kill me, and watch her die by my side.” He leaned against the bar, draining his drink.

Antidote.

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