Page 37 of Her Cruel Empire
“No.” She glances around, then sits across from me. “You should not be at the castle. Other girls went there before you. Girls from here. Pretty girls like you.”
My stomach, which had welcomed the food, turns over. “What happened to them?”
She makes a gesture with her hands, flicking her fingers apart. “Gone. They never come back to the village. Never write to their mamas. Nothing.” She touches the cross at her throat. “Novak—the woman with gold in her eyes—she is to blame.”
The woman with gold in her eyes. What an apt way to describe Eva Novak, I think. “What do you mean? How is she to blame?”
The woman’s eyes dart to the bartender, who’s pretending not to listen. She lowers her voice further.
“She takes a price. For protection.”
“I’m sorry, I just—I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
The woman’s fingers worry her cross. “My grandmother told stories. About those who live in the castle. They make deals with dark things. They keep the people of the black lake safe, but the price is always paid in blood.”
A chill runs down my spine.
“You should leave,” the woman continues. “While you can.”
She stands abruptly and hurries away, leaving me alone with my soup and a growing sense of dread.
The walk back to the castle feels endless. Every step up the muddy road feels like I’m walking toward my doom.
The beautiful coat that felt like a precious gift this morning now feels like a shroud. The clothes Eva bought me—they’re not meant as a kindness. They’re ownership. Pretty packaging for a possession.
I forgot that. And I shouldneverforget that.
The woman’s warnings echo in my head.Other girls went there before you.
What if Eva never intends to let me go? What if the thirty days is just a comfortable lie, and I’m going to disappear like all the others?
What if the blood on those bandages I saw this morning belongs to the last girl who tried to leave?
By the time I reach the castle gates, I’m shaking. I slip through the garden entrance, hoping to make it back to my room without being seen.
I’m brushing leaves off my coat in the side hallway when I hear it.
Footsteps. Unmistakably expensive heels on stone.
My blood turns to ice.
“Did I not tell you to stay inside?” The voice is sharp, low, dangerous. Each word cuts through the air like a blade.
I turn slowly, trying to steady my thundering heartbeat.
Eva stands in the shadows at the end of the hall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She’s dressed all in black—leather pants, silk blouse, knee-high boots with heels like knives. She looks like she could kill someone with her bare hands.
She looks like she wants to killme.
“You’re back,” I stammer, trying to sound casual. “I didn’t expect?—”
“You,” she interrupts, stepping into the light, “disobeyed me.” Her amber eyes are cold as the weather outside.
“I just needed some air. I didn’t go far?—”
“You went to the village.” It’s not a question. “I can smell the woodsmoke on your coat. See the mud on your boots. And yet I told you to not even go into the castlegroundswhile I was away.”
“Eva, I can explain?—”
