Page 13 of Chaos and Destiny
A dream. It was only a dream.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, remembering whose prison I was in. I peeled myself up off the floor, realizing falling from the bed must have been the crash I had heard. My forehead dripped with sweat, and the tray with fresh breakfast grated on my fucking nerves. The servant had again been in and out before I’d even had a chance to catch her. I quickly checked to make sure I still had my knives strapped around my thigh and breathed a sigh of relief when I felt them. They had become a second skin.
By midday, I turned reckless. I threw every one of the prince’s leather books into the glass panes of the single window trying to shatter it. Two broken food trays later, still not a crack. I couldn’t lift the leather chair, or I probably would have tried that also. I searched the bathing room for any kind of weapon I could use, but there was nothing. I eyed the gilded feet of the claw-foot tub for a moment, knowing they would be heavy enough, but obviously, I’d never be able to remove them. I tried several candlestick holders, but they didn’t work either. I was beginning to wonder if the glass was charmed.
Eventually, I gave up and perused all of the titles of the prince’s stupid books. The rumors claiming the fae of the south were great warriors must have been true. Most of his books were either stories of heroes fighting great battles or technique-styled books on all kinds of fighting. I opened the book on the nightstand. A picture slipped out of it, drifting gracefully to the floor. Tossing the book back on the table, I dropped to the ground and grabbed the portrait, flipping it over and back, studying it. Three cheerful faces stared back at me. One was a beautiful fae female, exotic even, with long dark hair and sharp cheekbones. Beside her stood an older fae, muscular and graying. His eyes were kind. The crown set atop his head gleamed in the light of the image. Between them was a boy with familiar green eyes, sun-kissed skin and raven hair, like his mother. The Elder King looked nothing like what I had pictured growing up. I had always heard he was fierce and a walking weapon, but the male in the picture seemed friendly, enamored with his family. The words on the back were written in a light feminine script.
My dearest boy,
The heart is the strongest weapon of all. No matter where the world takes you, always remember where you came from.
~All my love
I forgot the prince actually had a family. He was his mother’s twin. Even as a child, he still resembled her. He’d grown since the image was captured, but the same eyes that haunted my dreams looked back at me now.
I slipped the portrait back into the book, knowing that the southern queen had died and that might have been the only one he had of her. I still planned on killing the bastard, but I wasn’t an animal.
Later, I decided to work on my knife-throwing skills. I slid the chair across the massive room, stood on it, and wrapped a piece of cloth around my eyes until I couldn’t see. It would be just my luck that the door would swing open and someone would see me dressed in nothing but the prince’s massive shirt, blindfolded and standing on a chair in the middle of the room with knives in my hand. I hoped not. Actually, that would be hilarious. Plus, I’d still be able to hit them.
I lifted the blindfold a bit, peeking at my target. There was a wooden beam on the wall directly across from me. That would do. I threw the knives and listened as each thunked into the wood, only inches apart if my aim was right. Just as I let the last knife fly, a crash came from behind me. I spun, forgetting I was standing on a chair, and my feet flew out from behind me as I tumbled to the hardwood floor. I raised the blindfold and looked around, but nothing was there. Nothing moved. I closed my eyes and let my fae ears listen for movement or breathing. Still nothing. The vibrations from my knives hitting the wall must have knocked something off a shelf.
I followed along the wall until I found a metal cup laying on the floor. I rolled my eyes and put it back on the shelf. Being locked up in the castle and left to my own regard for two days was definitely starting to get to me. Last time I was terrified for my parents, that they would have to live alone without their child, but this time I had only myself to worry about. I’d also killed a male since then. Several, in fact. I just wasn’t the same person.
I pulled my perfectly placed knives from the beam and smirked at the gouges they had made. I hoped he hated them. I did push-ups until my arms shook and then pull-ups on the bar across the top of the posts on the bed. I made a rookie obstacle course and forced myself to train. I had nothing better to do with my time, and by the end, I was dripping with sweat, and the shirt I wore stuck to my body. I slid my back down the wall by the door and stooped my head between my knees, attempting to control my breath. I listened for noise, anything, outside.
“Just let me out already,” I begged.
I wiped my arm across my damp head and crawled to the bathroom, my muscles refusing to lift me up. It had been a while since I worked out. I felt my palms, and only faint bumps remained of the callouses I once wore like armor when training with swords with my father. My knives had become an extension of me, but I promised myself when I escaped this place, I was going to work twice as hard to earn those back.
I reached up and turned on the bath.
Fuck it. If they wanted me to just stay in this gods-forsaken, prince-smelling, book-riddled, nightmare-inducing room until I grew old, at least I’d take advantage of it. I let the steam from the hot water fill the room until the air was heavy and every surface was damp. I lowered my naked body into the scalding water and tilted my head back in complete euphoria.
I moaned and sank down until I was entirely submerged. I ran my fingers through my hair and wondered if Nadra would kill me for not using the right products. When I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, I came out of the water and heard the door click shut.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Once again, I had missed the damn servant. At this point, I was beginning to think they were watching me somehow. I hadn’t touched a single thing they had brought into the room either day. I stood from the bath and dried with the towel, letting my wet hair fall down my back as I walked into the bedroom. I pulled out another of the prince’s oversized shirts and put it on, followed by his trousers. This was practically my room now, so these were basically my clothes.
The luscious scent of food shot through the air like an arrow. I looked to the tray and then turned my back to it, willing myself to pretend like it wasn’t there. I failed. And not just kind of. That gods-damned tray haunted me. It was just sitting there like a glowing light beam screaming my name every five seconds. I lifted the cover and steam billowed out. Groaning, my stomach growled in response. Thick potato stew filled a bowl with several rolls and different cheeses off to the sides. A slice of roasted meat sat on a plate, smothered in a savory sauce, and inside a small glass dish were several pastries.
“You know what? Screw it. I give up. Do you hear me Princey Poo? I bet you do. Can you hear this?” I gave a crude gesture to the locked door.
Being the prince’s prisoner had absolutely made me a moody bitch, and if I was going to be Alewyn’s Promise, or whatever the fuck they wanted to call me, I probably wasn’t going to die by poisoning. I was sure those were someone’s last words, but I didn’t care. I followed up my dinner by locating a decanter sitting atop a table in the corner. I helped myself to that, too.
I started with a glass, then two, and then suddenly I was lying upside down, half on the floor with my feet up in the chair singing every bawdy tune I could think of at the top of my lungs.
“Their hands were so greedy, their mouths mighty crass
So she hiked up her skirts and showed them her ass.”
I giggled until I was roaring with laughter. I flipped over and rolled onto the floor, spilling my drink on my shirt and the pretty rug.
“Did you see that, Prince Fancy Pants? I ruined your stupid rug.” I hiccupped. “Oops.”
I pulled the shirt over my head and stood naked in the room. I crawled into the bed and wrapped the covers around me.
“You know what? I’m just going to be a prisoner forever. I don’t even want to get out of here,” I slurred.
