Page 5 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
She glanced away, a tightness rising in her throat. She should have felt sorrow for the humans and the cruelty they’d endured at the hands of demons, but all she could think about was how much she wished to be one of them. That longing alone underscored the unbridgeable distance between her and the humans.
She was the vampire princess. A creature who could scent a human’s fear from a mile away in good condition. Not only that, she was a manifestation of her uncle’s crown.
That was all that King Salen saw. And why should he see anything else? He was right. Her kind had stolen his land and left his people dead. Who better to seek justice from than the vampire princess?
“I acknowledge the violence my uncle has inflicted on Terra Monstrum,” she gritted out, hating to give way to someone who treated humans so poorly. But she also didn’t want to die.
King Salen poured himself a glass and took a sip of water from it before turning to Aryana. “I sent a message to the vampire king as soon as I received word you were captured, and he has certainly wasted no time in responding.” Something angry and harsh flitted over the king’s face. “He has refused to negotiate on your behalf.” His fingers crushed the glass in his fist as effortlessly as her uncle had likely shattered King Salen’s plan to use her as a bargaining tool.
She wasn’t surprised by her uncle's response. It was the vampire way not to let one’s enemies control your actions, no matter who they held hostage. Her threat about her uncle declaring war had been nothing but a bluff.
A cold deadliness spread through King Salen’s movements. He crept over the shards of broken glass, which the human girl immediately began to pick up with her bare hands. “I had thought about slicing through your neck and delivering your head to your dear uncle. Or better yet…” He reached out to her with his curved falx blade and Aryana stumbled back, but the troll guard came up to her, grasping her arms, holding her in place. A deadly hunger gleamed in his eyes as the sharpened edge of the weapon slid across her cheek. “... slowly flaying the skin off of you and sending him your skeleton, scraped entirely clean and my name carved into your bones.”
She swallowed, glancing at the wretched, chained demon remains on the walls; her stomach twisted with nausea as she saw King Salen’s name carved into the remnants of each hapless soul.
The demon arch king cleared his throat.
King Salen let out a long sigh and lifted the falx blade. “But His Majesty, Zarathos here”—he motioned toward the darkfigure still standing next to the throne—”has informed me of a rather unique skill that you possess.”
There was an expectation in his gaze. Aryana’s eyes flicked to the demon arch king in utter confusion. “A skill?”
Zarathos looked away as if bored by the conversation, his wings flicking in disdain. “Don’t play coy, Princess. Be honest and things will go better for you.”
Her manacled hands drew into fists. He was playing with her. Toying with her.
The Skin Flayer scrutinized her closely. “Is it true that you can spin straw into gold?”
Zarathos rolled a strand of his ebony hair between two fingers. “Word is she’s quite proficient at it,” he added languidly.
Aryana stared at Zarathos, then King Salen, in surprise. Straw into gold? How absurd. How utterly ridiculous. She redirected her gaze to Zarathos. He lifted an eyebrow at her, his golden glowing eyes challenging her to deny it. Her mind spun. Was he… throwing her a lifeline?
It was crucial for her to play this right.
Straightening a bit, she lifted her chin. “How did you find out?”
King Salen’s expression lighted. “So it is true?”
“It is.”
King Salen snorted, blasting a long stream of hot air over her, his cloven hoof stamping against the ground as his gaze narrowed. “Hmm, we shall see.” He turned to his guard. “Put her in the tower room that is prepared for her,” he said before returning his attention to Aryana. “Let me be clear, your life is dependent on this rumorbeing true. Either you spin the entire chamber full of straw into gold by the time the sun rises tomorrow, or your scraped clean skeleton will be sent to uncle dearest.”
He signaled to his guard, who surrounded Aryana at the same time that those who served the demon arch king relinquished their hold on her.
King Salen’s guards likely did not know she could fight. Her uncle always took credit for any violence she committed. They probably viewed her as a helpless princess, coddled in the safety of her family’s palace. And that was to her advantage.
They closed in around her with spears pointed at her chest. She reached out and grabbed a spear, shoving the blunt end into the face of a demon. He crumpled to the ground, blood spurting from his busted nose. Searing pain slashed through her hands and she gasped, dropping the burning rod. King Salen gave her a wan smile. “Nice try, little princess. The weapons are coated in holy water. If it struck you straight on, I don’t think you would survive.”
Not all demons were affected by blessed water like Aryana. Most of the beings in Terra Monstrum were immune, which made it a perfect tool for defending against a vampire. She snarled at him as the scent of the demon’s blood filled her nostrils. The guards moved in with their spears, forcing her to move in the direction they wanted.
And the damn demon arch king looked on, an amused expression on his face. What was he playing at? She grit her teeth, wishing she could take hold of a spear and ram it through his chest.
That would wipe that cocky grin from his lips.
King Salen turned to Zarathos. “A bargain is a bargain. You brought me the vampire princess as promised and I owe you payment.” He signaled to a guard, who walked up and offered him a long sword. “Behold, the blade of Caronele, as we agreed.”
Zarathos reached out, his face full of satisfaction as he lifted the weapon.
He’d traded her for a shitty sword.
