Page 13 of A Bond in Blood

“I’ve excused you. Olen will escort you back to the room.”

At the mention of his name, Olen appeared with a grin on his face, motioning to the doors we’d come through.

I turned on my heel, rage boiling before I snapped my body back to the king.

“If I’m being forced to stay here for a year, do me the courtesy of telling me your name.”

His gaze shifted away from the women who had resumed their kissing. With a grin that turned my annoyance to pure hatred, he replied, “Ulrich, princess. My name is Ulrich.”

My hands trembled while the words left his lips.Ulrich.It wasn’t what I was expecting. Not that I knew what I had been expecting.

With a nod of acknowledgement, I squared my shoulders and followed Olen out the doors.

Ulrich—the Unseelie King.

I repeated the name in my head while we made our way through the palace. Ensuring I would never forget the name of the first life I planned to take.

Olen left me in the room, slamming the doors behind him. He clicked yet another lock outside of my access, reminding me I was a prisoner.

I surveyed the room once more, hating the beauty I found in it. Hating that my body begged me to sink onto the bed and sleep away my troubles.

Instead of listening to the demand to sleep, I explored. There wasn’t much to the room once I had a chance to really take it in. Besides two side tables, plush chairs by the window, and the dressing screen, it was simple. The light of the windows and the candles pulled focus to the bed as if that had been intentional.

My feet moved while I walked the large space, guiding me to the doors Olen had first brought us through. Glancing back, I prayed to the Gods the brute had forgotten to lock this escape. That had been a foolish thought when my hand pulled at the handle and the deafeningclankof the locked barrier mocked me and my misery.

I turned back on my heel, crossing the room to an open doorway I hadn’t seen earlier. When my feet crossed thethreshold, my steps echoed against the marble. It surprised me with all the stone I’d been walking across since arriving.

I looked across the new space and tears lined my eyes. It was a bathing room. A room that shouldn’t have brought so much emotion. In the middle of the room, was a tub that appeared to have been carved from obsidian with pipes at the end.

Running water—this monster had running water. An uncommon commodity at home. Not even my personal bathing chamber had it. We had to rely on the pipes in our kitchens as our source of water in our small palace.

I rushed across the room, stripping the dress off while my hands turned the faucet. A prickling sensation ran across my skin at the sound and I let out a sob.

I could allow myself a few moments of reprieve in this insanity. Even if it only meant scrubbing my body of the shock of the last few days.

Settling into the tub, I let out a sigh, allowing the warm water to wrap around my body. I leaned back, dunking my head while my hands searched the surface for any soaps. Luckily, I found some quickly and lathered my hair.

The scent was magnificent. Smokey and earthy, with hints of something floral.

I rinsed myself before I forced my body out of the tub. Even with it begging me to stay where I had been, my eyes were drifting along with a weight of emotions in my heart.

It was all coming down over me. Reality. Pain. Anger.

I wrapped a towel around myself and walked back into the bedroom, finding a thin nightgown on the bed.

Stepping back, I put up my hands. It was a foolish belief that I could fight anyone naked and unprepared, but no one came. The room was as empty as it had been before I’d gone into the tub.

Hesitantly, I slipped the gown over my head before climbing into the lush blankets of the bed. With the heat and comfort warming me, I allowed the emotions to come out.

The sobs tumbled from me. Loud, echoing throughout the expansive room. My own song of melancholy and lament from the madness of my future.

The longer I cried the harder it became to control myself. I couldn’t stop it. The hate in my heart. The hate for this king, my father, and mostly myself.

Why wasn’t I fighting? Why wasn’t I standing my ground and doing something?

I curled my body around myself, tears wetting the fabric against my knees.

Then I heard it—click—a door opening.

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