Page 22 of Sky of Thorns

“What have you done to me?” I whisper.

Heat radiates off her soft hand mere centimeters away from my own. After a few breaths, I turn and lay on my back, crossing my arms over my chest, careful not to wake or disturb her. I stare at the canopy above us and pray for morning to never come.

Sybil

Sunlightstreamsthroughthecracks in the shutters, waking me like petals blooming at daybreak. I yawn and stretch, delighting in the embrace of the blankets cocooning my body. My house’s familiar scents of lavender and herbs permeate the room.

What a strange and terrible dream. Kidnapped and held prisoner as they take me to an entirely foreign kingdom. Yawning, I push myself up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looking around for Lemon when I spot the unfamiliar furniture around me.

Where am I?

The memories of the last few days come flooding back. Not a night terror, but reality, and with it comes the dread that today we would journey closer to Shadowvale. Frantically, I look around the room for Aramis, but there is no sign except an indentation of his body on the bed next to me. Running my hands over the fabric, remanents of heat cling to the sheets. Warmth floods my cheeks as I remember the way he stood at the foot of the bed, drinking me in. The door abruptly opens and the female from the night before comes bustling in the room, breaking my flow of thoughts. She stands in a sheer chemise that hardly leaves much to the imagination, carrying a tray laden with fruits, cheese, honey, and ale. She stops and looks at me, still laying in bed; an angry blush coloring her pale cheeks.

“Where is Prince Aramis?” She asks, her voice sickly sweet. Her eyes sweep over the bed, seeing the remains of his imprint on the cover. I can see the tick in her jaw as she grinds her teeth the more she stares at me in bed.

“How would I know?” I reply, pushing myself up to sit, drawing the covers up to my chin. I comb my fingers through my hair, attempting to detangle some of the knots. “I haven’t seen him. I just woke up.” And based on her expression, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t seen him either. She couldn’t possibly think there was something going on between the Prince and I, could she?

“Well.” She purses her lips and looks around the room one last time, her eyes catching his cloak drying over the chair. She shifts the tray in her arms and glances back at me. “Do you know when he will be back?”

“I come and go as I please, Oletta.” Aramis’s tall form stands behind the blonde, his eyes watching my fingers confront a rather hateful knot. “Good, I’m glad to see that you’re up. And it appears we have breakfast.”

Aramis grabs the tray out of Oletta’s arms, who storms out of the room, slamming the door with unneeded force, and places it on the bed next to me. Leaning forward, his hand sinking into the mattress, he grabs a raspberry, popping it into his mouth, all the while never breaking his gaze from mine. “Eat, Sybil. We leave within the hour.” Our eyes lock on each other, never parting. A whisper of wind greets me as it curls around my cheek—almost friendly and sweet. My breath falters, unsure of how to interpret the gaze and greeting.

“I, uh, an hour?” I stutter as I nervously bite at my bottom lip, heat rushing to my cheeks at his obstinate studying.

“Yes, Sybil,” he drawls softly in a deep baritone. His eyes darken as they lower, focusing on my lips. My breath hitches at the sight of his tongue darting out to eat another berry deliberately slow as he meets my gaze. I am losing my mind. “Or do you have a problem with that?” A twist of wind brushes through my hair and caresses down my neck, causing my toes to curl. Contrasting feelings battle within my heart and brain to the point that I no longer know how to address the man in front of me. Is your captor still your captor when he is rooting for your survival? When he tells you his court’s secrets to prepare you to stand trial? Or when he looks at you like you are the one good thing left on this continent?

“No. Yes. Uhm.” I blurt out and I am unsure whether I answered Aramis’s question or the ones afflicting my mind. I scoot back and shake my head to clear it. Reaching forward, I grab a piece of cheese from the tray; better take advantage of the good food before we get back on the road.

I’ll need everything I can get when preparing to face the king and queen.

“How many days will it take to reach Shadowvale from here?” I ask casually, trying to restore some normalcy between us. Whatever this is, I have much bigger problems awaiting me. I cannot risk getting distracted.

“Not more than two days if we stay on track. I have urgent matters to take care of. My people need me.” The message Nero delivered yesterday must have contained important information. Before I wonder if it involves the rebels, he meets my gaze and continues, “A shifter attack has been foreseen directed at Larnwick, I need to make sure no innocent blood is lost.” I nod understandingly, and this information reminds me that for the people of Shadowvale, I represent the enemy. I cast my eyes down and quickly cross my arms over my chest. My movements have caused the blankets to fall away, revealing my thin chemise.

“Sybil.” The way he says my name…

“Aramis!” Nero’s voice barks from the hallway.

I scramble to pull the covers back up, my eyes darting to the gown I’d lain out at the foot of the bed the night before. I meet his gaze, holding my breath.

“We’re not finished,” he says huskily, before he briskly turns and walks out the door.

I have no idea what’s changing in him, but I also don’t want to stop it.

***

The next two days creep by in silence. We are all restless from the journey it has taken, but my apprehension grows with each stride closer to the Shadowvale castle. I can now see the fortress stands tall and imposing, its shadow cast upon the rocky terrain surrounding it. The mountain range towers above the castle, its jagged peaks piercing the sky, radiating a sense of foreboding, as though something ominous is lurking within the imposing structure. I shiver as the cold wind whips through my hair, blowing the scent of pine trees and fresh snow towards me. I hear the sound of a wolf howling, a chill washing under my skin that mixes terribly with the cold. Was it only a few days ago that I was sitting in the pouring rain at the entrance to the tavern? The past fortnight feels like a blur as my jumbled thoughts turn to focus on what my future holds.

Let alone all the considerations with theprince.

“Aramis,” I start, words forming in my head. We have hardly spoken a word since we left Lunaris, both unsure on how to process the moments we shared now that our little bubble is about to burst. Not that I wanted to speak with him, but the alternative was letting my thoughts consume me, eating away any barrier I have erected to prepare for the coming days.

“Sybil, you must address me as Prince Aramis from here forth.” His body tenses behind me, his tone is cold and clipped.

My heart clenches at how cruel he sounds. “Oh? Back to formalities, your royal highness?” My reply drips with sarcasm and a hint of attitude, but I am careful to mask any hint of the sadness that has taken over me. He has never made it a secret that he lives for his duty as crown prince. It was foolish of me to think I might have changed his mind on my kind and made a friend. With an exasperated sigh, he loosens his grip on the reins.

“I’m sorry. There is a lot on my mind.” His tone is sullen, lacking the heat from our usual banter. “What do you need?”

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