Page 14 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

“My love, I wish I could.” Balon sounds distressed. “You are serving the goddess. I dare not help free you or she will take away her benevolence.”

I bite back a sigh. “So the winds are fair, then?”

“They are indeed. King Lionel has set off for war as of yesterday. The fleet was something out of a song. You should have seen it! So majestic! All of Lios has gone to war. We are certain to be victorious!”

He sounds positively elated. “All of Lios goes to war and yet you are here?”

“My father will not let me don armor. He says I am far more valuable as his heir. Besides, it gave me the chance to get away and come visit you. Now…a song? A story? What would please my love?”

Freedom, I want to say again. I want nothing but freedom. But I bite back a sigh. He’s here, and it’s something, at least. “You can tell me a story soon, Balon. Just…thank you. Thank you for coming. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“I would do anything for you, my darling Candromeda.”

Anything except free me, of course. But I don’t point that out. Maybe he won’t free me today, but I have nothing but time in which to convince him otherwise. The important thing is to keep him coming back, so I can show him how miserable I am and how much Ilovehim. “You’re so sweet to come to me. Tell me, how is my sister?”

“About to give birth any day now,” he assures me. “And she misses you greatly.”

I dig my nails into my palms, because I miss Erynne, too. We’ve always been together, the two Vestalin daughters. Well, there were three of us, but Meryliese was always gone, nothing but a distant memory. It’s always been me and Erynne. When she married Lionel, I left our familial, crumbling castle and went with her, so I could be at her side. I was to be a trusted advisor…but instead, I flirted and partied my way through court while Erynne took on the duties of a queen. I tell myself my sister didn’t mind, of course. It was enough to have me there. But now I feel a little guilty that I wasn’t more of a help, that she was forced to lean on her maid Isabella more than me. “Please tell her I love her and I long to see her again.”

“Princess…I cannot tell her anything. No one can know I am here.”

“Of course, of course,” I reply quickly. “Still, it is enough for me that you came.” I smile into the darkness, because it’s thetruth. I’ve been trapped in here for days now with only my own company, and just hearing a familiar voice makes me feel like myself again. “Tell me court gossip. Tell me anything. Just keep talking.”

Balon talksto me for hours, until his voice grows hoarse from projecting it enough so I can hear it through the thick door. He speaks of all the comforting nothings of home. Of who wore what colors to a festive ball, of what was served, of who was found emerging from a lover’s bed. A scandalous song written for an anonymous woman that all the court is buzzing about. It’s all utterly frivolous but it makes my heart happy. In a way, it’s nice to hear that nothing back at court has changed. I thought I would much rather hear that everyone was devastated that I’m trapped in the tower, but it’s actually nicer to hear that life goes on as usual. That even without me, a gem of the court and one of its favorite subjects of gossip, that life goes on as usual.

That it’ll all be the same and waiting for me when I get out.

“I must go soon,” Balon tells me eventually. “But I shall return to you in two weeks. Is there anything I can do for you, my princess? Anything at all?”

Free me, I want to scream again, but I need him to come back. Maybe after a few more visits, I can convince him that he needs to help me escape. “It’s enough that you’re here,” I say sweetly. “I’ll check for your return constantly.”

“I fear it will be two long weeks,” Balon tells me. “I cannot return sooner than that. I must see to my duties at court.”

“But how will I be able to know if you have returned?” I ask. “There is no way for me to tell time and it is dark in here constantly. Even now I have no idea what time it is outside.”

He’s silent for a moment. “It is near dawn, my lady. When I return, I will bring something to help you! Perhaps a rooster?”

A rooster? What in all the shite am I supposed to do with a rooster? “If you say so,” I call. “Just hurry back.” I pause, then add, “I’ll miss you terribly.”

I wince at the half-truth. While it’s true that I will miss him, I’d missanyonethat would show up to talk to me. I’d happily chatter to the court stableboys if they’d show up and speak to me, just for something to break the monotony of my imprisonment.

Still, though. Two weeks and he’ll be back. I’m touched at Balon’s devotion. Does he truly intend to return for the next seven years or is he going to break and help me escape earlier? I’ve always thought of him as, well, an affectionate dolt. Fun for a one-time fling, but not much else. He’s young and not the cleverest, but the fact that he’s supporting me like this? It makes him shine a bit brighter in my jaded eyes.

My mood is brighter, too. After he leaves, I put away a bit more of the food from my trunks and carry a few dresses upstairs. I’m buzzing with the things he told me. Of the fact that Lionel is gone from court, off to war. That my sister is there alone, waiting for her baby’s birth. I desperately want to be there. I’ll have to play Balon carefully if I want him to break me out. Convince him that I need him so desperately that I will die if we’re apart for any longer.

Maybe seduction? I consider this carefully. It’s a tool to be used, but one that must be wielded with a delicate hand. I ponder what to say to him when he returns, and how I can turn him towards what I want.

The next twoweeks drag past excruciatingly slow. I unpack my trunks slowly, hauling a few dresses up to my rooms at a time and then hanging them upon the hooks left by a prior occupant. When I run out of hooks, I head upstairs to see if any of the trunks there will suffice, since it will be far easier for me to drag a trunk down a flight of steps instead of hauling one of mine up a flight.

And I break down some of the junk upstairs for firewood and make a fire for the first time since I entered the tower.

I’ve been eating jerky and cheeses and hard, stale bread since I arrived, but I’m running low on those supplies, and the thought of eating another piece of cheese makes my stomach churn. I’m also down to the last bit of my medicine, so I spend one day taking apart one of my heaviest trunks that I’ve emptied and haul the wood, piece by piece, to the kitchen below. I eye the foodstuffs I have there on my shelf. I’ve put it all away at this point and I’m a little alarmed at how much less I have than the Fellian. His shelves are still brimming with supplies, but mine are only half full in comparison. Is it that I will eat a lot less than a Fellian? Are my supplies more compact? I’m not sure but it worries me, and I have nothing but time to sit and worry.

I make a fire in the hearth in the kitchen, though it takes a bit of time to get the wood from the trunk to catch and I end up using far too much tinder. When it’s good and hot, I put the ingredients for my potion into the cookpot and add water, watching as it boils. The dried organs and herbs make a foul-smelling concoction, but the stink of it gives me a wave of homesickness. I think of Nurse, and Riza, and my sister, and aching sadness threatens.

Tomorrow, I tell myself.You can cry tomorrow after you’ve made your potion and you’ve bottled it.

So I work instead. I let the potion bubble and I flip through Riza’s book of recipes, trying to figure out something to make. She left instructions for a soup with the jerky I’ve been eating, and to make noodles from some of the flour she’s sent, and to add a few dried vegetables to give it flavor. I don’t know how long anything has to cook, and her instructions say “until done,” which means nothing to me. So I let things boil. And boil.

---