Page 24 of Bound By Wishes

As Ranen’s magic released its grip on my feet, I called his name, the sound barely escaping my lips before darkness crept in around me. The world blurred and faded until everything was swallowed by blackness.

Everything in the overcrowded throne room stood still as I heard my name on Caleena’s lips right before she crumpled to the ground in a mass of obnoxious pink fabric. The thought of rushing to her side and scooping her into my arms was all-consuming but I couldn’t risk Razoul seeing me. Everyone else may have forgotten I existed but he certainly hadn’t.

“Don’t touch her,” Razoul barked to the guards as he bounded from his stolen throne and knelt beside Caleena. Something about his proximity to her had my blood boiling.

I eased as close to her as I dared. The thought that someone may have poisoned her crossed my mind, but who could have possibly caught onto our deceit that quickly?

Razoul scooped Caleena into his arms with a surprising lack of formality. Murmurs and gasps echoed around the room as he kicked open the throne room doors and headeddown the hallway. I hovered behind, just close enough to watch him but far enough to not be seen.

“Where are her rooms?” Razoul barked.

A servant scrambled to keep up with his long strides. "She requested the rooms in the west wing," he replied.

Razoul stopped so suddenly that the servant stumbled, barely avoiding running into him. I held my breath until Razoul continued, veering toward the west wing.

A mass of servants and officials followed Razoul into Caleena’s room. I hovered near the doorway, watching his every move as he laid Caleena on the bed. I glanced around and then transported myself to the balcony for a better view.

Razoul ran his hand across Caleena’s soft face before sitting on the bed beside her. “Get the physician!” he thundered, and several servants took off to do his bidding. “She must be overheated. Remove this dress.” Razoul ran his hand up Caleena’s calf until it disappeared beneath the pink fabric.

The room began to quake, a deep rumble vibrating through the walls and floor. Panic erupted as everyone started to scream and wail. Fissures spidered across the marble floor and a few windows shattered, their cracks spreading like veins. I glanced around in confusion, only to realize the source of the tremors was me. I quickly collected my unexpected anger, and the quaking stopped. Razoul glanced around the room, suspicion pulling at his brow. I had nearly made my presence known. What had come over me? It was my responsibility to protect her, especially since I was the reason she was in this mess, but she wasn’t worthabandoning the vengeance that had kept me going in the darkness of that lamp.

“Your Majesty!” Mozenwrath slithered into the room just like the snake I remembered. He stopped before Razoul, nervously tugging on clothes that were far too fine for a king’s adviser. He slicked his whale-oil-greased hair back and cleared his throat. “Your Majesty. I must insist you return to your guests. Leaving them for a single candidate is unheard of.”

Razoul slowly rose from the bed. He blindly heeded Mozenwrath’s every word. Which was even more evidence that he was not ready to be king.

“I will ensure she is well taken care of. The physician is on his way,” Mozenwrath promised. Razoul reluctantly followed him out the door, accompanied by everyone who was in the room.

Once they shut the door, I whisked myself to Caleena’s side. She was strangely pale. My fingers danced across her delicate neck, finding her pulse strong and steady. "Caleena," I whispered, lightly shaking her. She moaned, and I noticed her shallow breathing, each breath a gasp.

I glanced down at the tight corset, and without hesitation, I wrenched it apart. The seams groaned and strained as the fabric tore. Caleena gasped and her chest heaved with relief as she drew in a desperate breath of air.

Her eyes fluttered open, widening in alarm as she noticed me leaning over her. She glanced down at her torn bodice, and the sheer terror that twisted across her face struck me with a jolt, making my heart drum in my veins.

“Don’t panic,” I spoke to her like she was a wild maregetting ready to bolt as I eased off the bed. “I know this looks bad, but you fainted in the throne room, and I had to get you out of that corset before you suffocated.” Her lower lip trembled, and by the moon, I wanted to gather her in my arms, but instead, I backed up, giving her more space. She watched me like a hawk as she slowly sat up. “I just removed your corset. Your chemise is still in place.” I don’t know why I felt the need to further explain myself, but she seemed to calm with each word I spoke.

She cleared her throat, pulling the silk sheets over her chest. “Who brought me to my room?” she rasped.

I leaned against one of the columns, feeling its cold surface against my back. “Razoul.” The name escaped my lips with a growl of anger I didn’t fully understand. She gave a tense nod, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

“Well, you certainly got his attention,” I said, trying to break the tension. “I must admit, it was more dramatic than knocking over a punch bowl.” I attempted a smirk, hoping to lift the somber mood that had settled over the room.

One corner of her lip curled into a soft, wry smile. “I always aim to please.” Rising from the bed, she gathered the sheets around her, clutching them tightly to her chest. As she ducked behind the changing screen, the fabric trailed after her, creating a cascade of fluttering white as she disappeared from view.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my expression tight with irritation. “I don’t think it was necessary to cinch those stays so tightly,” I snarled. “Were you trying to cause a scene?”

Her head popped out from behind the changing screen,anger pinching her cheeks. “I didn’t tie those stays,” she snapped. “Those banshees that helped me dress did. I think they were trying to kill me.”

By her tone, I could tell that she was joking, but had the servants sabotaged her on purpose? Doubtful, but it was possible. I’d have to keep an eye on them too. Having a sayyida was a lot like work. A tiresome job that was holding up my agenda.

The rustling of material brought my gaze back around, and then the dress flew through the air in a blur of pink fluff before landing in a heap on the floor.

I scratched the stubble on my cheek, a playful smirk tugging the corners of my mouth. “You know,” I remarked, “those banshees really should be the ones helping you undress.”

Caleena’s dainty fingers gripped the edge of the screen as she peered back around it at me. “Ranen,” she said with exasperation. “I am tired and hungry. I have no interest in playing princess at the moment, and if those servants come near me again, I might just scratch their eyes out.”

A glint of mischief sparked in my eyes. For a commoner, she was cute when she was angry. I decided to be lenient and help her out. I waved my hand, and black smoke reached toward her. She gasped when it encompassed her.

“I’m not coming out in this,” she hissed.

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