Page 96 of A Bond in Blood

I was almost half-way through my service. Impossible when I considered the fact. Almost as impossible as my father having not replied to a single letter I’d sent him since my arrangement with Ulrich.

My hands trembled at the desk in the library while I wrote out my hate-filled words. Accusing my own blood of not caring. Begging him to come for me.

My tears hit the ink, making it run down the page and I did not care. I wanted him to see the pain he put my heart through. I wanted him to understand his daughter’s growing hatred for his cowardice.

My lips were shaking, my chest heaving when I laid my quill down. The tears blinded my vision, and I jumped when rough fur brushed against the tips of my fingers.

“Princess,” Olen’s beast voice was soft, softer than I had yet to hear it. “Are you well?”

I wiped my eyes, crying out from the sting of ink. “Fuck!” I cried, picking up the skirt of my dress and dabbing away the pain.

When I’d done my best, I found Olen’s black eyes staring at me with his brow crumpled.

“I’m writing to myfather.” I choked on the word.

“That’s quite a lot of tears,” Olen said softly.

I pushed him away. “Please leave me be.”

Olen shook his head. “It’s dinner time.”

I threw my head back with frustration. Somehow forgetting my nightly routine with Ulrich. An uncomfortable dinner of silence.

“I can’t,” I admitted, holding my hand to my chest. “I need to rest.”

Olen shook his head. “You made an arrangement with him. He won’t allow that to be broken.”

My eyes went out across the library and the new seating that had been placed in the room in recent weeks.

“I don’t want to eat in a suffocating room, Olen.”

Olen nodded his head and then turned away.

“Go change, princess.”

I stood in the circular room, twisting my hands nervously. Unsure of which pathway to take. I’d only received a note when I’d exited the bathing room. It was placed on top of a long-sleeved sparkling black gown that was not my own.

The clock.

I’d known what it meant instantly, having spent every day for the last month with Ulrich in that room. With him pointing out the hallways.

So far we’d come from hallway six, the kitchens. Gone down hallway twelve, the beach. Also, hallway seven, leading right out to the city. Many times, we went down three, the bedroom hallway. And lastly, hallway two, leading up to the main hall where the front entrance to the palace resided.

I stood in the silent room, waiting for Olen or Ulrich to approach. Unsure of what to expect when a familiar rattling of an ear full of golden earrings came down a hallway.

I turned from where I was staring at twelve, finding Olen leaning against the doorframe of four.

“This way,” he said, motioning.

I picked up the heavy gown. My fingers rubbed the velvet fabric together, grateful for the warmth with the temperatures that continued to drop with the winter.

Olen was silent while I followed him, realizing we were walking at an incline in a perfectly spiraled walkway.

The candles lit the way and the higher we climbed, the colder it became.

I was close to cursing myself for not bringing my cloak when Olen stopped and pointed to a wall beside him. I turned my head, finding cloaks hanging on hooks and fur-lined hand covers on a shelf beside them.

“What is this?” I asked, wrapping the cloak around me and placing the hood on my head.

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