Page 20 of Prince of Never

She wasn’t afraid of me.

Chapter 10

Imogen

ItseemedTarianhadopted to leave me to my chores, though the list had grown enormously from the day before, as if he’d told Madam Hetia to increase my workload.Or maybe she’d done it out of spite, since she looked at me like I killed her cat.My body ached, muscles I didn’t even know I had were knotted and angry, and my feet felt like they were on fire.And still the day wasn’t done.Clearly there was no such thing as workers’ rights in this barbaric place.How was I expected to work from sunup all the way until the royal jerk had eaten his dinner?

I let out a weary sigh as I waited for him to make his appearance in the dining room, earning me a fierce glare from Madam Hetia.If looks could kill, lady,I thought irritably.What was she going to do, fire me?

Finally, Tarian decided to grace us with his presence.I did my best not to glare at him as all the other staff around me inclined their heads, not that he seemed to notice.I certainly wasn’t going to bow to him.I stood tall, my head high.He quirked an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t react, simply took his seat at the head of the ridiculously long dining table.Someone stepped forward to place a napkin across his lap, someone else set a plate in front of him, and then there was a procession of people offering plates for him to choose from.Anyone would think he could at least conjure up a smile when being presented with so much food, but his lips remained in that same solemn line as he looked down at the presentation without any interest.

And there I was, holding a jug of wine.

When all the servants had scuttled back to the wall, Madam Hetia clicked her tongue in irritation and nudged me.I ground my teeth and stepped forward, pouring the liquid into his glass.

‘Your technique needs work,’ he said.

‘I’m a librarian, not a waitress.And as I doubt you’ve ever poured your own wine before,your majesty, I don’t see how you can comment,’ I snapped.I ignored the gasps of horror as I made my way back to my place at the edge of the room.

‘You insolent—’ Madam Hetia hissed but was cut off.

‘Do it again,’ Tarian’s voice rang through the room.He held his glass out to me, dark eyes fixed on me.Clearly, he wasn’t used to anyone talking back to him.

I ground my molars together, trying to push all my frustration into them.Madam Hetia shoved me forward.My anger only built with each step I took towards that pompous prince.My hand trembled as I lifted the jug.Control, Imogen.Pour the wine into the glass, I told myself.But I was tired.I was tired of being treated this way, tired of being poked and prodded and shoved and scolded and imprisoned.

A splash.A cry of outrage.A gasp of horror.Someone scurrying forward.

Shit.

As if waking from a haze, the room came back into focus.Tarian stood before me.The wine jug was empty.His pants were soaked.Perhaps if I had any sense, I’d have apologised profusely and begged for mercy.But instead my lips curled despite my best efforts.

‘Oops,’ I said, offering a small shrug.He stared at me, his expression more confounded than anything.I decided not to stay for the aftermath.I put the jug down on the table, gave a mock curtsey, and spun on my heels.No one moved as I strode out of the room.It was almost as if they were frozen in place.

I bumped into a man as I walked through the door.‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said out of reflex.

The man smiled at me, a charming smile, and tilted his head.‘You’re new, aren’t you?’he asked.Looking at him, he resembled Tarian in a small way.They had the same dark hair, though his fell carelessly in his face, and the same sharp jawline.But where Tarian’s lips seemed to form a permanently hard line, his turned up at the corners in the promise of something wicked.

‘Yes,’ I said, not feeling like taking this man down the rabbit hole of how I came to be there.‘Am I supposed to bow to you?’

‘Technically yes, but I won’t tell anyone.I’m Ves, and you are?’

‘Imogen.’I heard a crash from the other room and stiffened.It was followed by the sound of a door slamming.

‘Well, Imogen, why don’t you run along?I’m going to see what all the fun is about.’

Before I could warn him, he gave me a wink and strolled into the room I’d just left as if he wasn’t walking into a lion’s den.I decided to take his advice and hurried back to my tower.I never thought I’d be glad to be back in that room until I took off my shoes and flopped onto the bed.

There had to be a way to get out of this place.Not that I’d have the energy for a daring escape if they kept working me like this.

I’d barely managed a minute of peace before the crow descended upon me, flapping her wings and squawking about propriety and other nonsense I had no desire to listen to.She continued that way until she was red in the face and breathless.‘Now you will go with Sarah and prepare the fireplaces for the night.’

‘Are you kidding me?’I asked, slack-jawed.‘What are you, short staffed or something?’

‘Disobey again, and you’ll not be welcome amongst the staff.Let’s see how much you enjoy your stay then,’ she sniffed and stalked from the room, leaving the door wide open behind her.

I groaned and pulled my aching body up just as Sarah slunk in, quiet and timid, so different to the girl I’d seen just last night with her carefree laughter and the joyous way she’d carried herself in the tavern.It seemed that oppression was synonymous with this castle, which was suitable given that it was calledDreadhold.

‘Did you really pour wine in the master’s lap?’she asked, her eyes wide.

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