Page 16 of Captive of the Crime Queen

But I ignore Lyssa for now and demand again who has been harassing Aurora—my eye happens to fall on one of the kitchen hands as I ask, and he goes pale.

"No one's hurt her, ma'am, I swear it," he stammers.

"If a single hair on her head is harmed, you'll lose your whole scalp. She is under my protection." My ice-cold glare dares him to defy me, but he just shakes his head vigorously.

The rest of them continue to glance between each other, confused. "We haven't touched her, ma'am," offers Angie, the only other housemaid allowed to give Aurora personal service. "I try to be kind when I go in with her meals. But she just sits there, won't eat a thing we bring her. And she…she gets these fits sometimes, crying and pacing like a caged animal."

Aurora in tears? Aurora fading away like a neglected house plant?

I search their faces for deceit. I find none.

Lyssa intervenes. "Hadria, for God's sake," she says, strolling up toward me. "The girl's been treated fairly. She's warm, well-fed, and safe as a baby in its crib." She drops her voice as she comes closer. "Can't expect to shut up a sunbeam in a box and not have it dim a little. Hm?"

I exhale slowly, then give an irritated flick of my hand. "Get out of here, all of you." I glare at Lyssa so that she knows she's included in that command, but all she does is smirk as though it amuses her. But she leaves the room with the rest.

Lyssa is right, though I won't admit it. Did I really expect to cage the light within this girl and not have her fade a little?

But what does it matter, after all? She's mine now. That's all that matters.

Yet somehow the thought of her radiance fading fills me with an emotion I can't quite place. Something…

Something close to what I imagine sorrow must feel like.

I knew claiming her would provoke chaos, force Nero's hand. I planned on it. In that sense, it's been a satisfactory outcome, but this unforeseen complication is clouding my victory, this strange protectiveness, this inconvenient attraction I feel for her.

Attraction? I'm not sure that's the word. Whatever this is, it runs deeper, speaks to something more primal within me. All I know is that I can't bear to see that fragile light wane, its warmth and comfort leeched away by the cold pragmatism that rules Elysium.

And so, before I can talk myself out of it, I go to her room and fling open the door. Startled, she jerks up in bed. But aside from that, she doesn't cry out, doesn't react.

I sit on the end of the bed and meet her eyes, keeping my voice even. "You need to eat."

She simply stares at her hands, her cuticles ragged where she's been picking at them.

I try again, using the same voice I use on my soldiers. "Did you hear me, Aurora? You will eat when you are presented with food."

For the first time she meets my gaze. Her voice is a ragged whisper. "Please let me go. Please. I don't belong here."

My heart constricts.

I wasn't aware I still had one.

"Would you rather I returned you to my brother?" I ask her coldly. "You will eat when you are brought food, or you will only have yourself to blame when I have you force-fed like a turkey being fattened up for Thanksgiving."

I sweep out of the room without waiting to see her response.

CHAPTER 9

Aurora

The night—day?—afterHadria told me I had to eat, I stir from restless dreams. I blink up at the ceiling, that familiar heaviness settling into my bones. I don't even know if it's day or night outside. And all I feel is fatigue. Getting up takes so much effort. Eating takes effort. Even showering feels like trying to move mountains, so I've taken to skipping it more often than not.

Sleep has become my only respite, my escape from Hadria's grasp.

Though even in my dreams, I still have my choices taken away from me.

A knock at the door jolts me from my melancholy reverie. Before I can respond, Mrs. Graves bustles in, clucking her tongue at the sight of me still in bed.

"Come now, up you get," she says briskly.

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