Page 30 of Of Rime and Ruin
“And I am the king.”
She’s not taking my shit. With a cocked eyebrow, she leans closer. “Assign Perrin to watch the princess. It’ll give him something to do, at least. He’s been having an easier time swimming than walking, with that foot.”
My gut twists, and I blow the air out of my cheeks.
Deirdre slaps the table with the flat of her hand twice before standing. “Perrin?” she calls out.
The door cracks open, and her nephew hobbles inside on a pair of wooden crutches. He fumbles with them, making his way forward with excruciating awkwardness. A bandage wraps around his stump leg, hanging in a listless reminder of what I’ve done.
Iama monster. Fucking hell.
The young guard blushes under my scrutiny and does his best to stand tall, wedging the crutches deeper into his armpits.
I clear my throat. “Have you been stationed in the dungeons before?”
“No, Sire.” His voice trembles. “But I can learn, Sire.”
“You’re aware of the protocol, at least? No friendliness. No foolery. You sit there and make sure the prisoner doesn’t escape. You’ll have a set of keys. Don’t lose them.”
“I can do that, Sire. No problem.”
“All right.” I run a hand over my face to smooth the tension twitching in my jaw. “You start tomorrow. Day shift.”
Perrin glows, his mouth stretching in a tusky grin. “I can do it, Sire. Thank you, Sire!”
Deirdre squeezes her nephew’s shoulders and steers him to the door. After one more smug glance, she departs with an exaggerated curtsy.
As if she didn’t just deflate my ego in a matter of minutes.
Chapter fourteen
Nahla
Icrymyselftosleep. It’s not a good look for me, and the guard shifts outside my icy cage, but I don’t give two flipping fucks what he thinks.
My sobs choke me and my neck strains as my gills work to suck in enough oxygen. Tucking my tail to my chest, I hug myself and let my sadness work itself out.
I cry for Ramona. For Keen. For the freedom I won and lost too soon. I cry for Winona—our sibling rivalry be damned. If I knew my choices would lead me here, I wouldn’t have deserted her. I would have married that Coral Prince. I would have thrown the best wedding the sea has ever seen, and when Winona walked me down the aisle as the reigning head of my family, I would have kissed her hands and hugged her before she gave me away to the male of her dreams.
My tears freeze in the Rime, floating to the ceiling to join the ice, until sleep finally takes me under.
When I wake, I’m met with a new face at the gate. I blink to clear the fog from my eyes. The newcomer is young. He wears a guard’s belt, and the keys are secured at his hip. The belt looks too big for him, wrapping around his waist twice.
He cocks his head, smiling.
Cutie.He has a pleasant face and broad brown eyes. A curly mop of sandy hair sprouts from his head, a sharp contrast to the blue tone of his skin and scales. His teeth are the pointed tips of a merman, his ears wide and fin-like, untouched by magic. Long, thin whiskers hang from his mouth.
“You don’t look like a spy,” he says. “You’re too pretty.”
I can’t help but smile. “Thanks, I think?”
He fiddles with the keys, dropping his gaze for a moment. “Are your scales really made of gold?”
“No. They’re regular scales.”
He’s funny. A vast improvement to the other guard.
“Huh. I don’t have those. Just a slick of blubber.” He twists his tail, and I get a closer look. His tail is smooth, more like a glosswhale’s hide. The blue tone covers all of him from head to tailfin, speckled with deeper hues on his back, lighter on his stomach. His tail is injured—half of his right fin is missing, freshly scarred.
