Page 7 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
“Where are you taking me?” I hated how my voice trembled. We were so high up. The very air swam. I could barely focus on anything except how high we were.
“I thought you wanted to see my kingdom,” he said darkly. “Or will you admit that you were lying and not going for a walk?”
Something about the way he said that made my stomach twist as if I’d been stabbed. I glared at him even as my fingers dug into the soft silk of his embroidered robe. “This isn’t walking.”
He smirked. “You’re right. If we’re going to go for a walk, we should be on the ground.” With that, he flung me up in the air and toward the wall. “Meet you there, darling.”
I shrieked as I tumbled through the air, my stomach dropping into nothingness. The stone walls rose, and I braced for the bone-breaking agony that was sure to come.
CHAPTER THREE
Cold hands seized me at the shoulders and lifted me up, fingers pinching my flesh. The two guards held me up, one gripping me under each arm as they flew.
They lowered me easily, smoky wings catching the invisible currents and landing in front of a broad low staircase that led up into the palace.
I staggered and caught myself on the railing as my stomach swam. My knees gave way and struck the marble. The ground might be steady, but it didn’t feel that way. Maker, help me. I didn't want to throw up here.
My throat tightened, bile creeping up my throat.
A low thud announced something landing several feet away from me and up the stairs.
My gaze snapped up.
The Hollow King stood at the top of the staircase, eyebrow lifted as he stared down at me like I was a pile of filth. His upper lip curled. “Already on your knees for me, darling? What a promising start to our betrothal. Though you do look a bit off. Did our little flight not agree with you?”
I grabbed the stone banister to pull myself up, my stomach churning and that awful tightness in the back of my throat clenching harder as saliva pooled in my mouth.
A thousand responses rose to my lips. Commentary on him and his kingdom and the smell and everything else. But I’d barely jabbed my finger in his direction and staggered up before what came of my mouth was vomit.
My knees struck the marble as I gripped the banister. Gagging, I leaned between the broad spindles.
“Hm. How provincial. One would have thought that a princess would be better prepared for such an excursion, but I don’t know what I really expected of Tanith’s descendant. You may not look like her, but you have all her worst traits.”
I hinged my gaze up briefly to glare at him, then gagged again as my stomach insisted that the water and few sips of wine still needed to be expelled. Shame burned my cheeks and chest as the horrid taste of bile and ash coated my tongue.
A low scoffing laugh followed. “Need a moment? Very well. Collect yourself, and we’ll finish talking like adults if you can manage that. Guards, once she’s done defiling my courtyard, bring her to my observation room.”
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, glaring at him. “May all your seats turn to thorns, you empty bastard,” I shouted after him.
He halted on the staircase, then shook his head. His wings twitched against his rigid spine, the weak light passing through their smoky form and making the shadows stretch long across the marble. “Careful, princess. Unless you want another tour of my kingdom.”
“I—” Another spasm took me back over the side of the banister, and I closed my eyes. I had to get out of this place.
“I thought not.” He continued up the staircase, wings folded elegantly against his back and his black robes trailing on the stairs behind him in perfect alignment. Somehow his crown andblack hair were both straight and flawless despite his excursion above. Not that I needed more reason to hate him, but that certainly added to the list of reasons.
The two guards walked alongside me. One, a fae with six stitches on his left cheek and down his chin, leaned closer, hands on his belt. “Might not be wise to antagonize him, Your Highness.”
“I’m not a princess,” I mumbled thickly.
“Unlikely,” the one with a broken nose said with a dark laugh. “He can only leave and return once per blood moon. He wouldn’t waste that on a commoner.”
“Regardless, this isn’t something you win by fighting,” said Six Stitches, his voice a low gravelly rumble. He exchanged looks with the guard on the other side of me, then set his thick gloved hands against his belt. “If you want to survive, you best play nice. There’s a lot of good people here who’re going to die if you don’t play your role. And none of you fulfilling your role requires you to be capable of walking or even conscious except for the wedding itself. So…bear that in mind. You can suffer a great deal in the next week.”
I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve once more and glared at both as I tried to come up with a good comeback. “Yeah, well, you both…bear in mind that…I’ll do what I think is best. What do you mean people are going to die?”
The two guards watched me with steady gazes, their dark silver eyes revealing only the barest of tolerance. “King Vetle will explain,” said Six Stitches. “Come along.”
I had to figure out a way to escape. As I leaned over the railing and gasped for breath, I ran through my options and what I had seen. The Hollow King had at least shown me the way out, even if he had done it to torment me. The easiest point to reach the portal would require crossing the chasm at the narrowest point. I’d need to cut to the west and into the darkforest to make my way around the crescent to get there. If I could just get past these palace walls, I’d figure something out.
