Page 30 of The Umbra King

VINCULA

Rory draggedherself out of bed, wishing she could take a longer nap. Exhaustion pulled at her, but sleeping all day wouldn’t help her adjust to the third shift schedule.

The other kitchen staff told her dinner was served at six o’clock, and her stomach demanded she join.

Her uniform was crumpled from sleep, and she made a mental note to venture into town tomorrow for casual clothes. The clothes she arrived in magically disappeared while being laundered.

Winding through the dark hallways soothed her, and when she stepped into the brightly lit dining hall reserved for the staff, she relaxed. The room was large and had several rows of picnic-style tables where people were sprinkled about, talking and laughing amongst themselves.

When the closest table noticed her arrival, they fell quiet. The rest of the staff followed suit, and before long, the entire room stared at her in a deafening silence.

Keeping her shoulders back, she walked to the serving line, but the stack of plates was snatched from the table by a woman standing nearby. Rory heard a few snickers around the room and fought the urge to grab the plates from the woman and throw them on the ground.

If they wanted a villain, she would give them one.

Instead, she proceeded to the line and looked for anything she could eat with her hands, but as she passed each tray of food, someone pulled it back. She whirled on the other staff and stared them down, table by table.

A movement at the back of the dining hall caught her attention, and when she looked up, Samyaza stalked through the room toward her. She had half a mind to give him a reason to send her to Orcus now, and if it wasn’t for Cora, she would have.

He stepped around her and grabbed a plate that miraculously appeared where the stack had been. Food filled the buffet, too, and he piled his plate high before turning and leaving without a word.

Rory’s shoulders fell as she turned on her heel and walked toward the exit, but she only made it a few steps before mashed potatoes splattered against her chest. She stopped cold and searched for the one responsible.

“Evil bitch!” someone yelled as they hurled a spoonful of green beans her way.

That was all it took to set the others off. Rory was pelted with food from all angles, accompanied by insults she deserved. She would not cry, and she would not run. She retreated down the aisle, taking the punishment with poise.

As she stepped into her room and surveyed her clothes, she smiled. Ironic how they refused to feed her dinner, yet they gave her food, anyway.

She looked around the room for something to scrape the edible weapons onto. It was gross, but she was starving and didn’t eat during her shift.

A knock on her door almost made her jump out of her skin, andbefore she could ask who it was, the door opened, and two large wings cast a shadow across her face.

Sam entered quietly. “Eat,” he commanded and shoved the plate he’d made into her hands. She watched his large wings tuck in tight as he ducked through her doorway and disappeared.

Rory’s alarmclock blared at two-thirty a.m. the next morning, and she reached blindly to hit the snooze button. She was met by cold, rattling metal, and reality crashed into her, jolting her awake.

There were no electronics here, and the clock on her bedside table had literal bells that made her want to stomp it to bits. Turning it off, she stood and stretched before using the bathroom and getting ready for her shift.Briefly, she wondered if women had periods here since their bodies essentially froze in time.

She seemed to be the only person on three a.m. kitchen duty, but she’d passed other staff in the palace yesterday on her way to the kitchens.

The head cook at the end of Rory’s shift the day before told her to peel potatoes today. While it sounded terrible, it had to be better than scrubbing ovens.

She passed through the first kitchen into the next and screamed at the top of her lungs when she came face to face with the Umbra King.

His blonde hair was messy, and his silk sleep pants hung low on his hips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the deep V at his waist drew her eyes downward.

“My eyes are up here, Miss Raven,” he drawled.Damn him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting down the heat creeping into her cheeks.

“This is my palace,” he said, waving around a spoon. “What are youdoing here? Ah, that’s right. You murdered thirteen innocent people.”

Dipping his spoon into what looked like custard, he brought it to his mouth, never breaking eye contact. She crossed her fingers and hoped that he choked.

Ignoring him, she walked around the middle island toward the back kitchen supply closet and mumbled, “None of them were innocent.”

“What was that?” he called after her. She kept walking, but shadows snaked around her like ropes and held her in place. Wiggling did no good, and she closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but here. “I said…” Caius walked closer. “What was that?” His breath tickled the back of her neck, and she wondered if head-butting the king was a punishable offense.

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