Page 64 of Joined By Magic

I waited, everything held tense, but the restraints didn’t reappear. Instead, the prince settled next to me on the bed and looked down on me with a pleased expression. “That was a test. You passed. I wanted to ensure you’d obey me.”

What choice had I had? None. If I’d refused, he’d just have forced me. If I was a mage, I’d have blasted him and this whole rotten flophouse into dust before I’d have laid down on that bed again. My powerlessness sickened me. I wasn’t about to say that, though. Wild, emotional outbursts hadn’t worked out well for me the previous night. Instead, I reverted to a comfortable lie—a perfect Collection girl.

“Of course, Your Highness.” I waited.

“You may move.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed and placed my knees together demurely, my eyes cast down. The silence elongated, as if he expected me to say something, but I wasn’t going to. Right now, silence felt safer.

The smell of the room was driving me crazy. Mold, musty sheets, and cigarette smoke. The toxic combination of fear and unused adrenaline made my head spin. Everything wobbled, as if I were drunk, and I pressed my hands over my face.

“What’s the matter? Are you ill?”

A million sharp retorts pushed forward in my scrambled brain, but I forced them down. “No, Your Highness. I’m fine.”

I didn’t look at him as I waited for the room to settle, though I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and stared at my knees. My mind felt pulverized, battered and bruised by the terror of the last three hours. Only three hours. I was being dramatic. But the fear of a day, or longer, trapped immobile had rattled me on the deepest level. The prince knew my weak spots. He could attack them with ease.

Sitting on the bed began to feel claustrophobic. Lacking anything else to do, I stood by the window and looked out at a dingy street, complete with spilled trash and a couple of people passed out in the gutters. Just like home. This wasn’t the Alaria I’d fallen in love with. My heart ached for the beautiful mountain town and my pretty little house. None of it had ever been mine, but I missed it as though it had been. I leaned my head against the greasy glass and shut my eyes to stop tears from leaking out.

The prince brushed my shoulder, and I flinched away from him. Then, recalling my manners, I mumbled, “Yes, Your Highness?”

He touched my chin, lifting my gaze to his in the way he used to, back before the royal protocols became little more than a game to him. He studied me, and an odd look passed over his features. Worry, maybe even fear. “You’re pale. You need to eat.”

The thought of food upset my stomach, though it was hollow. “I’m not hungry. Thank you.”

My voice sounded blank and dead. I tried to marshal myself to do something, to ask the prince about what came next, but I couldn’t. Weariness coated me like tar, and I couldn’t make myself move or speak. My gaze strayed to the window, and I stared out without really seeing anything.

“Talia!” The prince gave my shoulders a rough shake, and I turned back to him. “What’s wrong with you?”

The question, so honest and so ridiculous, snapped something. I blinked up at the prince in disbelief as shock drove some of the fog from my brain. I forced a small, fake smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He stared at me, searching my face as though he could find the answers he sought. I looked back with bland politeness. I wanted to run from the room, to smash through the window and breathe the fresh air I knew waited outside, but I couldn’t. I had to banish the thought from my brain and move on. To try and recover the happiness and contentment I’d once felt in my position with the prince. Even with his moods and his cruel punishments, I was still luckier than ninety-nine percent of the other women in Atar.

Wealth, ease, and luxury awaited me back home. I could make a difference to the lives of the Collection girls. I could enjoy my time with the prince and try not to care that he viewed me as a possession. And I could make sure my sister was safe. I could do it. I just had to forget about the freedom I’d tasted and wanted so much.

I took a deep breath and shoved everything down. The prince still watched me, concerned. I couldn’t fathom it. He expected me to be well moments after he’d done his best to terrify and break me. I couldn’t understand what went on inside his head.

“I’m okay. Maybe you’re right—I do need to eat.” Rummaging in the bag for a meal bar gave me an excuse to turn away from him, to let my face twist with rage and misery one last time at how he’d treated me. When I stood to face him, all traces of my feelings were wiped away. A perfect courtesan. I could be that again. I had to be.

Chapter Thirty-One

Liv

Oneweekbeforethewedding, we relocated to the summer palace with the rest of the court. Mages teleported, and a small contingent of servants and guards set off in the compact two-person crawlers that were popular in the desert. The summer palace kept its own permanent staff, so only nobles, personal guards, and close household servants made the trip.

Leo brought our Dexian group. I blinked in the sunlight and took in another beautiful building. The walls were white stone carved with designs of plants and animals, and potted plants and creepers decorated every surface. In the desert climate, it was the height of decadence.

I became an expert in neutrality. The longer I spent with the king, the more he revealed his poisoned, twisted soul, and I sat passive and peaceful as he and Leo plotted abominations. Leo rarely left me alone anymore, paranoid that the king would try to hurt me before the wedding.

He and Leo pored over maps, pinpointing the best angles to approach both the healers’ settlement and the Dexian palace. Because, the king said, if they were going to the trouble of taking an army to Dexia, they might as well take control of the place. What could those weaklings do to stop them?

Two days before the wedding, my fast began. Only water for two full days. Why had I argued so hard for this? That evening, hungry and irritable, I curled up on the sofa and tried not to hate Leo as he ate a plate of fried gambini at our kitchen table. It was our last night together before I entered the seclusion period, where I’d be only seen by women and put through a bathing ritual to prepare for the ceremony.

Because of Leo’s concerns for my safety, Hex, Atalie, and I would stay secluded in our master suite while he remained in the main living area.

Leo glanced down at his plate, then up at me. “Sorry.”

I sighed. “It’s fine. I pushed for this, after all. I’m not going to die.” It felt like I might. The smell of the gambini curled toward me, setting my mouth watering.

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