Page 91 of Court of Secrets and Flames

My pulse quickens with dread. “You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.” His gaze flits over me, and he takes his sweet time before explaining what this is about. There’s an edge to his demeanor that rings an alarm in my head.

Though my pulse kicks up, I force myself to remain calm. “Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.” He steps closer, and his expression could cut glass. “I’ve tried to be patient and give you time to adjust to the idea of marrying me, but I see now that was a mistake, and that you mistook my kindness for weakness.” His hand snakes out and clamps down on my upper arm. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hisses.

Alarm crawls along my skin. I’ve never seen Jasper angry like this before, and my instincts urge me to tread cautiously. “No, of course not. And I’m very appreciative of your patience. If I haven’t said as much, I apologize.”

“Really? If that’s the case, then why did I receive a report about you and my brother that doesn’t sound very becoming of my future queen? Did you really think no one would see the two of you together?”

My heart thunders so loud, I’m afraid the others will hear. Shit. Things aren’t looking good, but maybe there’s a chance I can still play this off. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, if I’ve offended you in some way, but I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. My training with the prince requires a lot of close contact?—”

“So you do think I’m an idiot, or at least a pushover. Well, I can assure you I’m neither. I’ve been willing to make allowancesfor your situation, even house your adoptive family, but what I cannot do is allow you to make a fool out of me or this disrespect this crown.”

His fingers dig into my skin until it hurts. When I wince, he relaxes his grip but doesn’t release me.

I do my best to placate him. “I promise you that I’m not trying to do either of those things. And as I said before, I do appreciate the care you’ve shown me and my family.”

“Good. Then I’m sure you won’t mind signing a pledge in front of witnesses agreeing to accept the betrothal and set a wedding date.”

I wet my dry lips. “I…I can’t do that.”

His eyes narrow, and when he speaks, his voice is dangerously soft. “Oh, I think you’ll find that you can. Perhaps a stay in the dungeon will help motivate you to have a change of heart.”

My stomach crashes into my feet.

Oh, fuck.

Chapter Thirty-One

I’m tossed into a gloomy, musty cell under the heart of the palace. Dirt coats the floor, and a thin, dank mattress sans blanket sits in the corner, along with a chamber pot a few feet away. An unfamiliar guard stands outside my prison, his back to the thick iron bars.

At least I’m not chained.

The other bright spot in this situation is I haveThe Chronicles of the Mother Wurmsince it was tucked inside my tunic.

I spend the next three days reading, worrying, and thinking.. That routine is interrupted only at mealtimes when Hyde brings me stale bread, a hunk of cheese, and water, and once each afternoon, when the king stops by to ask if I’ve changed my mind about pledging to accept the betrothal.

When I tell him no, he doesn’t stick around, and he refuses to answer my questions about Sterling. I worry that he’s punishing his brother too, especially since Sterling doesn’t show up to visit. Then again, no one else does either. I’m guessing the king won’t allow visitors or else no one besides him and Hyde knows I’m down here.

That last thought fans the flames of my anxiety. If no one else realizes I’m in the dungeon, the king could leave me here to rot indefinitely. I’m sure there are worse places to be, but I can’t say I’d ever spend time in here by choice.

The worst part isn’t the solitude. Or the inadequate food. Or the lack of bathing. Or even wondering what’s going to happen to me. All those things are bad enough, but I’d gladly suffer through them to know Sterling is all right.

Not knowing where he is or if he’s okay is making me crazy.

At least I findThe Chronicles of the Mother Wurmcaptivating, with its fierce female protagonist. But as much as I enjoy reading about the warrior queen, the stories instill an odd sense of unease. A growing dread that something bad is coming, and I need to prepare for the threat before it’s too late.

Unfortunately, it’s a little challenging to prepare for much of anything while locked up in a dungeon. Except for maybe body odor, and sadly, that threat already transpired. Trapped with no other outlet, the book was stressing me out. I toss the volume aside, leaving me with nothing to do but worry and think.

After what I estimate is at least a zillion hours confined in the cell, I have a visitor.

The Lady of the Bedchamber is the last person I expect to see, and I certainly don’t expect the guard to allow her in the cell with me. But she can be…persuasive.

“Stars above, Lady Lark, you look terrible.” Rhiann clutches her chest, her brown eyes scanning my accommodations with unmasked horror. “This is filthy. And cold. You’re going to be ill if you stay here much longer.”

“Not like I have a choice.” My voice comes out hoarse. It’s been a while since I’ve had water and even longer since I’ve spoken.

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