Page 23 of The Maleficent Faerie
Holding my breath, I wait for him to touch me again. I imagine how it would feel if he dragged one claw lazily up my spine—ah, the vengeance I will wreak if he dares to do something so wicked—
But with a gust of unfurled wings, he leaps off the saddle, soaring along the valley, high above our party. And he doesn’t descend until we take a break for a quick noon meal in a meadow.
After that, he flies for most of the afternoon, until the trees close in once more, shading the narrow road. Then he sweeps back down in a gust of dark feathers.
Alighting near my horse’s head, he takes the bridle and strokes its nose. I’m entranced by the angles of his elegant profile, the slant of his sharp cheekbones, the alluring curve of his lips.
If he were a guard or a courtier in Caennith—someone who caught my eye—I’d have him once and be done with it. But he’s my enemy, my captor. I can’t purge this attraction in that casual way. Can I?
Just picturing myself with him is treachery, heresy, betrayal of my parents and my people.
The Void King glances at me—the swiftest of looks, his dark eyes taking me in. My lower back tingles in the spot where he touched me.
“We’re nearly there.” He gives the horse’s nose a final pat before leading it onward.
Minutes later, we emerge on the bank of a broad woodland stream, in yet another valley. Beyond a stone bridge lies a wide meadow, surrounded by thick forest, with trees piled upon themselves in mounds of leafy dark green, heaped all the way up to the pale blue of the afternoon sky.
In the center of the lush green, the chapel stands like a dark jewel, formed of smoke-colored stones and black marble veined with amethyst. Arched windows reflect the blue of the sky, but dimly, like shadowed mirrors. In front of the chapel lies a courtyard of neatly-placed paving stones, surrounded by several buildings.
“What are those?” I nod to the structures.
“Stables, a dining hall, and bath-houses,” replies the Void King, tugging gently at the horse’s bridle as we cross the bridge. “We’ll bathe before entering the Chapel for worship. Yes, that includes you, little viper.”
I cast an uncertain glance over my shoulder. Though there were women in the Void King’s camp, none of them are in the group that traveled here. It’s me, the Void King, and five knights—all male.
I swerve my gaze back to the King. He’s looking at me, a mocking awareness in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re shy with your body. You certainly aren’t shy with your words, or your teeth.”
“This is the punishment you devised?” My voice is hoarse. “You’ll make me bathe naked with you and your men? Because I pretended to be the Princess?”
“A complete revelation of the Regents’ daughter.” He raises his voice slightly. “Nothing held back, nothing hidden. Everything laid bare. Doesn’t that sound fair, men?”
An appreciative murmur rises from the knights behind us.
This, I did not expect. I don’t mind revealing my body in the right circumstances, with people of my choosing. Not like this. This is cruel. This is—I don’t think I can bear it. If I refuse to undress, will the King tear the gown from my body himself?
This is the wickedness of the Daenalla. The Edge-Knights heckled and threatened me earlier, and now I’m to be naked before them. Will the King let them molest me? I’m only a hostage after all—my life is valuable, but they haven’t promised to leave me untouched.
I’ve hunched my shoulders unconsciously—I straighten them again and lift my chin, trying to swallow my terror.
The Void King leads our horse into the courtyard before the Hellevan Chapel. Three women and two men, clad in dark, simple robes, descend the steps of the chapel and bow low before him.
“You and your knights honor us, Majesty,” says one of the women. She wears a woven band across her forehead, gold and black braided together.
“High Priestess.” The King bows to her. “The honor is mine. I have spent far too much power, and I need to replenish it. Is there worship this evening?”
“Yes, my lord. It will be a small gathering, but you are most welcome.”
“Thank you. We will dine with you after the service if you have anything to spare. Please do not go to any trouble—a little soup and bread will be more than enough.”
The High Priestess smiles warmly. “I think we can do better than that.” Her gaze rests on me, confusion flickering over her face as she registers my manacled hands.
“This young woman will be joining us,” says the King. “She is the daughter of the Three Faeries, the Regents of the Caennith Fae. We mistook her for a greater prize, but she may yet be of some use.”
“Indeed.” The High Priestess’s eyes meet mine, their gray depths cold as frozen stone. “Lord King, would it please you and your men to bathe before the service?”
“Yes, thank you. And please prepare a private bathing chamber for our unwilling guest, if you would be so kind.” He says it so smoothly I barely register the meaning of the words until I hear disappointed whispers from two of the knights to my right. The grumbling stops abruptly when the Void King’s head turns in their direction.
A private bathing chamber for our unwilling guest.
