Page 130 of Artemysia
Except I don’t sense any distress in her. I don’t sense a single hint of anything wrong in her voice when she speaks. She might not know it, but when she’s upset, there’s always a slight wobble in her inflection at the end of a sentence. I hear these things because I cling to her every word.
Her tone stays even when she speaks to the prince.
And if they did hit it off, he has far more to offer her than I ever could.
Perhaps she’s made a sensible choice.
“That’s no way to thank the prince for such a lenient penalty,” she chides. “Go back to our room and rest. Sleep it off. I’ll be in at sunrise.”
She dismisses me and turns to the prince with a curtsy, inclining her silken head of hair to him. “High Lord, the night is yours.”
The words are like a knife in my gut. And I’ve been knifed in the gut before.
This—this feels worse.
“Swoop in silently and stay above the fray.” - Delphine
Toryl still grasps my hand.
Riev doesn’t turn back to look at me. Not once. The guards seize him and escort him away. I don’t think I could take another second of the look on his face. He’s beyond gutted, because of me. I hope he doesn’t try to fight his way back out.
I’m livid, and fully aware that Riev’s violent tendencies may have rubbed off on me when the growing need to smash something creeps into my fist. I will destroy whoever tried to take advantage of Riev.
And I’m furious at the sheer nerve of this prince. I still can’t read Toryl.
People aren’tallgood orallevil, but I have yet to figure out what Prince Toryl’s motivations are, and what he wants from me in particular.
All I know is if he tries anything, I’ll be able to take care of myself.
I’m not trapped.
I’ll fight my way out.
Before I resort to any extremes, though, I’ll see if he’s open to reasoning. If not, a broken nose or arm should bring out his rational side. I’m not afraid, because I’m strong, and I can best the prince. I’ll get past the guards, find Riev, and escape.
But the defeat in Riev’s eyes hurts me deeply, more than any physical pain. First, when he burst in and saw me naked, and again when he was led out. How he blanched when I said I’d stay. It pains me that he can’t see the end game—that he’d think I would actually go through with it.
There was never a time to explain everything I’d discovered. Not when the prince wouldn’t leave our sides. Toryl scrutinized me the entire time I took care of Riev, as if he didn’t understand why I’d do such a thing.
As if he didn’t understand love. Has he never cared for anyone?
The audacity of trading Riev’s freedom for a night with me only suggests the prince is testing us. Testing the feelings Riev and I have for each other, like some sort of experiment.
Or he’s testingme.
Once the door closes behind Riev, I retract my hand from the prince’s grasp.
We’re alone in his bedroom. My breath remains steady, but I don’t know what to expect and my heart races.
My injured arm bleeds through the bandages. Without a word, I sweep past him toward the bathroom to apply more medicine.
“Where do you think you’re going? Another bath?” he asks dryly.
“If I get a Syf disease and lose my arm after this weekend, I’ll be sure to return with my good arm and lop off your head,” I threaten.
“You would return, at least? Don’t worry. The Syf don’t have diseases.”
I whirl around at this new information. “How do you know that?”
