Page 120 of Artemysia
Sylvi’s hands rove at my waist, sliding under my shirt and up my back. I flinch at her touch. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but since I met Delphine, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching me. I belong to someone now. Someone who cares for me. I step back, but Sylvi digs her fingers roughly into my skin.
She gasps.
Her hand travels further up my spine. I try to wrench myself away, but it’s too late.
“Kye,” Sylvi turns to her brother as she feels the scars across my spine, “I think we found a live one.”
My heart stops. No one in South Kingdom ever put together what the scars are. But they know so much more about Syf here in the North…are we behind because we’ve been busy fighting Syf for the last two decades?
The room spins, and my vision blurs.
I’ve only just noticed there are no windows or doors in the trophy room, and Kye is sliding an armchair against the mirrored panel, blocking the passageway we came through earlier.
My tongue goes numb, the pins and needles spreading down my neck and shoulders. To my alarm, my arms weaken to the point that it’s difficult to hold my glass steady. I glance down at the dram of scotch I’m sipping…
They’ve trapped and poisoned me.
“No one gave you permission to touch me.” - Delphine
“I’m not a spy,” I lie to Prince Toryl as I drag myself up the third flight of stairs behind him. I’m in no hurry to get to wherever he’s taking me.
“High Lord or Prince,” he reminds me arrogantly, a frown marring his soft face.
“I’m not a spy, High Lord. My husband is a marquis under your rule.” What is it with men and their noble-born titles? Admittedly, I do love hearingcaptain, but I earned it.
He jolts me back to attention with his sharp tone. “You don’t move and act like a marchioness.”
“I’m not one.”
“Then?”
“I mean, I am now,” I begin, using the backstory Riev and I finally settled upon earlier in the carriage. “My father is the head of security and the weapons expert for LordRiev’s estate. Riev only just inherited it from his late father.” The Syf said we could use our real names since the palace doesn’t keep track of every transfer in title. North Kingdom is more widespread than South Kingdom, with more estates and lordships.
I go on. “Riev fell in love with me for my strength and married me. But like other noblewomen, I am expected to raise children, not fight. I savor any chance to use my skills.”
The irritation in my voice is real. Annoyance shreds my insides—where the hell is Riev?
Did something happen to him too? Or should I be worried for myself?
It seems like the men have all the power here, and they probably need him to vouch for me, the errant wife. I haven’t seen any women guards, and the queen fainted at the sight of a Syf. For an instant, I’m homesick for Stargazer, and wonder how my squad is doing without me.
“I have the means to decide if you’re lying or telling the truth,” Prince Toryl replies ominously as he unlocks the door at the end of the hall on the fourth floor. His hands are well-manicured, his fingers slender and nimble.
Does he mean a torture device? Stargazer doesn’t torture its prisoners anymore. It’s illegal.
The double doors open to a massive bedroom. A bedroom fit for a prince, of course.
“This is your room?” I ask. The brass-framed bed is set sideways and is unmade, with pillows strewn in high piles. A dark, heady scent, perhaps smoky incense, lingers in the air. My bare feet sink into the thick, gold and black floral rug.
“One of them.”
He remains stoic as he stares at the lump on his bed. “Astrid. You’re still here?”
“Mhmm.” A woman rolls up from under the thick coverings and blinks into the light. She sits up and flicks back her sleek hair that cascades down to her waist.
She’s naked.
She traces two fingertips around the large, dark areolas of her shapely breasts on an attractive frame. “Ready for more already, myprince?” Her tits harden at her own touch.
