Page 53 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Aryana held up the silvery dress. “If I’m going to die, why are you giving me this?”
“I only do what the demon king commands. Besides, if you are about to die, you might as well look good doing it.”
Her flippant tone grated, as if Aryana’s death would be nothing more than a passing amusement.
“I still don’t understand.”
“This is an exhibition, dear. You are a princess, so the crowds want to see a princess being put in her place. Not some straggler from off the streets. That’s your value to the arch king.”
Aryana’s fingers curled into the fabric. Her value to the arch king probably would have been as the female said if they’d already gone for the scepter. That was most likely the only thing keeping Aryana alive.
She drew off the black ensemble that Zarathos had given her. Aryana hardly thought her current dress made her look like some urchin from the streets. However, if she was supposed to wear the new gown, what complaint did she have?
Vivane eyed the bandage on Aryana’s thigh. “Even though the clothes will cover your Bloodbound mark, leave the wrap, just in case.”
Aryana froze. “How do you—”
“Dear, the power of your bond radiates off of you.” Her eyes roved over Aryana. “The question is, what kind of mess has Zarathos gotten himself into?”
Aryana bit the inside of her lip, briefly. “Can other demons sense the Bloodbinding?”
“Only succubi can sense such bonds. And I am the only one working in the palace. However, that doesn’t mean there won’t beothers in the arena today. But it is only something that we sense within a few feet. So don’t get close to any other succubi.”
Her uncle occasionally took up with a succubus, one of the only types of other demons he allowed in his kingdom. But Aryana had never known they had the ability to perceive Bloodbonds. They hailed from Kingdom Misophae that housed the leftover demons and half-breeds that didn’t fit in any category. Even when vampires were part of the demon empire, they had little to do with the lowest of the low kingdoms.
Aryana slipped into the silvery silk gown. It draped over her shoulders and framed a square neckline that dipped toward her breasts. Long trumpet sleeves flared more dramatically than those of her previous dress, and the a-line skirts trailed behind her in a sweeping, courtly train.
Delicate black lace traced the edges in an intricate web of leaves and vines, climbing up the center of the gown before pausing at her navel for an appliqué that curled across her stomach. The fabric clung tightly to her chest and hips, then loosened as it fell, brushing softly against her ankles.
Vivane moved behind her, tugging at the edges and lacing it up with practiced hands.
“Not that you have to worry,” she continued. “You are merely a play piece for the demon arch king to show off and then cast aside to make him appear more powerful. You will be gone soon, no doubt.”
Aryana swallowed, but lifted her chin. Zarathos wouldn’t underestimate her… Would he?
Vivane lifted a black brush from a pouch tied to her thigh. “I am required by the council to mark you.”
Aryana stumbled back. “Mark me with what?”
She reached out and took Aryana by the wrist in a surprisingly strong grasp. “Don’t worry.Thispart won’t hurt.”
Aryana jerked back but didn’t break her grasp.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I will call the guard in to hold you down while I mark you. It is a requirement you signed in your kalator contract.”
Reluctantly, Aryana relented and let Vivane press the brush to her wrist. She carefully drew what appeared to be an inverted crown. A sign of fallen nobility. Anger seethed through her and she nearly tore her hand away. Vivane released her and Aryana ran a finger over the instantly dried ink.
“What the hell are you—”
“It’s not my idea. I was simply told what to draw,” the demon female said, too calmly, as she stored the brush back in the pouch on her leg. She unlocked a pair of shackles and pulled them off the wall, before walking up to Aryana with them in hand. “Part of the arch king’s orders.” Vivane clapped the irons on Aryana’s hands and ankles. Then she banged on the door and it swung open. “She’s ready,” she said to the guards. She gave a malicious smile to Aryana. “Enjoy your last few moments of life, Princess.”
The guards hauled her out of the room. She quickly counted ten filled cages, while they dragged her over to the empty cell at the end of the line. The demons holding her shoved her inside and banged the cage shut.
Ten kalators for the ten champions. And Aryana was number eleven for the demon arch king.
She gripped her elbows with her hands, the limit of her chains’ reach. What the had she gotten herself into?
