Page 11 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

For a brief moment, I’m terrified. Fear quickly gives way to indignation, and I draw myself up straight. What kind of fools sent me to live seven years in a locked tower with a grown man? An enemy man? Are they not concerned with my virtue?

(I mean, I’m not, but that doesn’t mean others shouldn’t be.)

“Excuse you,” I snap back at him. “I live here now, too. I’m trying to find out where my quarters will be, so don’t get snippy with me.”

“It’s not in here,” he snarls, nothing but a pair of glittering, unholy eyes in the darkness. “You can have the next floor. This one is mine.”

“Fine,” I retort. With a withering glare, I toss my head and march down the hall.

It’s only when the door slams shut again that I can breathe. I suck in a deep lungful of air, tremors racing through me. Fellians are devils. Worse than devils. And I’m trapped in here with an adult one. I’ve been trying not to think about Erynne’s warning, but knowing that my companion is an adult male changes things.

I might have to kill him after all.

I find the stairwell for the next floor and head up another forty stairs. By the time I make it to the top, I’m dizzy and nauseated, reminding me that I need to take my medicine soon. The thought of returning down the stairs and digging through all those trunks is daunting, though, and since I’m already up here, I figure I might as well have a look around.

There are three doors on “my” floor, and it seems to be laid out the same as the last one. I open the heavy wooden door and this time, I’m not greeted by an angry Fellian. This time, all is silent, and I step inside what must be my bedroom. There’s a fireplace, but a small one, and there’s no way I’ll be able to climb up the chimney here. An old, narrow rope bed is against one wall, but there’s no bedtick and I don’t know if I have one packed. There’s a small wooden table off to the side and a faded gray tapestry hanging on one wall and…that’s it. I think of my opulent quarters back at the palace, with the thick rugs on the floor and my oversized canopied bed. I think of the large window that overlooked the gardens and my attached bathing chamber, and my jaw clenches tight.

Wordless, I go to the next room. A garderobe, which is little more than a creaky wooden seat with a hole cut into it, thewaste splashing down…somewhere. And the third door on this floor is a small storage closet, with a couple of old empty trunks left from prior inhabitants, as well as a few discarded pieces of ancient, outdated clothing.

I head upstairs, and the final floor in the tower seems to be nothing but storage for old, broken things. There’s a rotting trunk, what looks like scattered armor, and a few wooden candelabras. A table with a broken leg. A book that looks like it might fall apart if I touch it.

Junk. Nothing but junk.

For someone that’s supposed to be serving the goddess for the next seven years, this tower isn’t exactly welcoming. It’s not comfortable. It’s got the bare minimum of necessities. And it has far too many stairs for a gently-bred princess with a blood curse. Already I’m exhausted, and I haven’t eaten, haven’t unpacked, and certainly haven’t taken my medicine. I return to the floor below and to my quarters. I stare at the rope bed for a long moment, and then, fighting fatigue and helplessness, I set the candle on the table nearby and climb into the bed. The ropes dig into my skin uncomfortably, but I’m too tired and disheartened to care. I close my eyes and curl up as best I can.

Tomorrow, I’ll have a good cry about all of this. When I have everything put away, only then will I allow myself to break down.

Chapter

Seven

Iwake up in the darkness to a sour stomach and the uncomfortable watering of my mouth. Oh no. Weak and shaking, I barely manage to crawl out of the rope bed before I vomit all over the stone floor.

Stupid. Stupid stupid.

I know better than to skip my medicine. The shaking and sour stomach come first. If I continue to ignore those symptoms, I’ll get weak and my heart will race uncontrollably. If the bad blood is allowed to continue building up, I’ll die in a matter of days, and there’s no one here to take care of me.

I’m on my own.

I allow myself a moment of self-pity, and then I get off the floor. I wipe my mouth with my skirts and fumble for my candle in the darkness. It’s gone out and the striker is downstairs—another problem. I’ll learn from my mistakes, but I’m annoyed that I have to learn from them right now. I just want my medicine and to go back to bed. Feeling my way forward, I manage to find the stairs again and carefully head down at a glacial pace. It seems to take forever to find the next flight of stairs, and even longer to find my trunks again. The inkyblackness is stifling, and there’s not a single hint of light to be found.

I’m alone in suffocating darkness.

It feels like hours before I find the strikers once more, and when my fingers brush over them, I want to cheer with relief. Hands shaking, I manage to light a bit of tinder and then dip a fresh candle into the flame. That done, I reach out to the closest trunk and ask my knife,” Is my medicine in here?”

No answer. Not that trunk, then.

I reach for the next one.

“What are you doing?”

The voice of the male Fellian is near enough that it makes me jump. I drop my candle in surprise, smothering a scream. A moment later, I snatch it back up again before it can go out and glare in his direction. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“I smelled vomit in the air. Are you sick?” His deep, rich voice is full of indignation. He melts out of the shadows, just enough for me to see the glint of bright green eyes reflecting the light of my candle, and a hulking form still wearing a cloak and hood. “Did the puling Lios king send a sick female to the tower as his sacrifice?”

“Piss off,” I tell him. “Go lurk in the shadows somewhere else. I’m busy.” Just because we have to live together doesn’t mean we have to get along, and it’s clear that we’re not going to be amiable neighbors. His room is probably better than mine, too. Bastard. I’m not in the mood to deal with his dragon shite right now. I just want my medicine and a snack, and to think about all of this tomorrow.

“Are you going to leave all your trunks here for long?” The Fellian’s tone is insufferable. “You’re making a mess.”

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