Page 82 of Royal Captive
“It will all burn.”
Hayida laughed as I fell to my knees, hands over my ears as I struggled to stay rooted in reality with Eve’s phantom voice ringing in my ears. Rage shot through my veins like liquid fire, the only emotion strong enough to blast through the voices.
“Fuck you!” I roared at him.
My cuffs flared as they squelched down my rising magick, the sensation like someone throwing a blanket over me as I struggled to stand.
Hayida clucked his tongue. “This is why things don’t change. Don’t be just like Fennis. How droll.”
I pushed past the pain and grabbed his wrist, forcing the magick through my hands and into his body. Instead of flinching or crying out in pain, he tightened his grip on me, pulling me closer and bringing us nose to nose.
“Foolish boy. When I was king, half-breeds were killed to celebrate holidays.”
My heart beat erratically against my chest as my wrists burned.
“You were defeated, just as we’ll defeat Fennis,” I shot back.
Hayida grinned crazily. “Oh, I certainly hope so. There will beso manydead humans.”
He gathered my magick and pushed it back at me in a whirl of colors and pain.
I fell.
Twenty-Seven
EVE
Stupid men. Stupid fae.
Where had the line of prisoners gone? When were they coming back? Screams and yells erupted from the yard but I was powerless.
A new guard was at my door, a wary human slave holding a tray in front of him.
“In. Make sure she eats it,” the guard ordered him.
I stood back as my door opened and the human entered. He was a man of middle age with brown hair and kind eyes. The wooden tray he held had a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, a thick hunk of golden bread, and a small bowl of butter. It shook slightly as he held it out to me. He acted as if I had a contagious disease.
“H-here, I—”
I didn’t let him finish. I snatched the tray and took it to the opposite side of my cell, just in case my guards would change their mind and demand it back. Hunching over the food, Idevoured the bread, soaking it straight into the full vat of butter and barely chewing before swallowing.
The large lump of bread didn’t go easily down my throat, and my eyes were watering as I tried to force it down my throat.
Slow down. Easy.
I took the soup more slowly, picking up the bowl and drinking it since there was no spoon.
“Er … do you like it? It’s a new recipe I tried, and …”
He went silent at the glare I shot him, probably realizing I wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation. At least not while there was food to be eaten. I tried to remember the last time I’d eaten, which would have been back at Shyllon’s palace. They’d been odd about the food there, too, but at least he’d kept me fed.
“Um, sorry. Bad day,” I gave a weak chuckle, trying not to be a total bitch. And likely failing. “Yes, it’s very good.”
He beamed a bit, pride likely restored. Only after I’d literally licked the last traces of soup from the bowl did I finally lift my eyes to the nervous man, who stood there wringing his hands at me. Blushing, I wiped my hands on my dirty dress and offered one to him.
“Sorry again about earlier, I was starving. I’m Eve.”
He eyed my hand curiously, leaving it dangling. I pulled it back in, self-conscious.
