“I should hope not, Your Majesty,” Claude’s muffled voice replied. Still cupping his face, his skin now a mottled color, he edged toward the doors. When Belanor didn’t stop him, the young faerie abandoned all pretense. The buckles on his shoes clinked as he hastened the rest of the way, leaving a trail of blue drops. I must’ve gotten him good. A faint smirk curved my lips, and I tipped my head back to rest it against the headboard. I heard the door open and close. The jangle of those obnoxious shoes faded.
Once the boy was gone, silence covered the room like a layer of snow. I knew Belanor hadn’t left. I waited for his next move with every moment bringing me closer to sleep.
“Was it my brother who taught you to shield your mind?” he asked finally.
Something in his tone made me lift my head. Sweat still dribbled down my temples, remnants from the mental battle with Claude. I had no more strength left—not today—and I couldn’t even muster a glare. I met Belanor’s gaze tiredly, wondering how many days it had been since I’d been taken from Granby. Right now, it felt like I’d been here for weeks.
“No. That would be our ex, Collith Sylvyre,” I intoned.
The prince’s expression didn’t change, but I felt the intensity of his focus. Evaluating me again, learning everything he could in order to exploit it. Slowly he murmured, “Until tomorrow, Lady Sworn.”
He put his back to me and started walking toward the doors. “You haven’t had enough yet?” I called after him, a note of mocking in my words.
Belanor’s narrow shoulders stiffened. He turned again, but stopped before he was fully facing me. He kept his gaze directed at the wall as he said, “I’ve tried to be courteous. I’ve tried to be a good host. And you have repaid my kindness like a commoner. So I shall treat you like a commoner, Miss Sworn.”
Something about his posture made my bravado wither. It was that unnerving stillness a predator displayed just before it attacked.
Thankfully, Belanor didn’t wait for a response. He turned and strode out. I tensed, expecting him to slam the door. Instead, he pulled it shut slowly. The latch clicked into place with such gentleness that I didn’t hear it this time.
I stared at that doorknob and thought, Round one, Belanor. Round two, Fortuna.
Silence rushed into the dimming room. The sweat on my skin cooled. Darkness kept creeping close and retreating in exhausting intervals. After a while, it became apparent that I wouldn’t be getting any tray deliveries. Probably for the best. I was weak with hunger, and I probably wouldn’t be able to resist Belanor’s drugged food. My earlier plan to chew through the bedding would need to wait—right now, my body pleaded for sleep. I couldn’t summon the strength to resist. As much as I loathed it, the catheter was about to come in handy.
I closed my eyes again. Something told me I’d need every advantage I could get for round three. I’d seen the look on Belanor’s face, and it was one I had seen on others before him. He was evil. The thing about evil people was that, as a general rule, they were also driven.
Belanor was just getting started.
CHAPTER FOUR
I dreamed of a tree.
A great, eerie, many-limbed tree, lending it the look of a sea monster, surrounded by a strange sea of shadows, underbrush, and other trees that couldn’t compare. The sun rose behind it, sending streams of light through the spaces between branches. I stepped closer, and a stick snapped beneath my foot. I hardly noticed—my attention was riveted to that wooden sea monster. I put out my hand, settling it slowly on the bark. I tensed the moment I made contact, as if I expected the tree to react in some way. Twist and sway those arms, maybe, or creak into the stillness.
At the same moment I arched my head back, trying to get a better look at the inner sanctum of those gnarled branches, a scream shattered my ears.
Just as a bolt of terror went through me, the dream ended.
Panting, I opened my eyes to a smooth, white ceiling. The instant I saw that, I knew I wasn’t in the enormous bedroom anymore. My heart ricocheted, and with a wince, I managed to sit up. Was this another hallucination? Belanor had turned my own mind against me, and I didn’t trust what I was seeing. No matter how real it seemed.
I took stock of my new surroundings. Fluorescent lights made the space blinding. It was even colder than the other one. I suspected I was underground. From my time at the Unseelie Court, I knew the smell intimately. Frozen dirt and must. There was no furniture, no windows, and no colors. The walls and floor were padded, making me feel like I was sitting in the center of a giant marshmallow—even the toilet was covered. A single roll of toilet paper had been placed on top of the water tank.
This was what I imagined the inside of a mental hospital to look like. Especially combined with the fact that I was wearing scrubs and my feet were covered in flat, laceless, rubber-soled shoes.
Unlike a hospital, though, there was absolutely no sound coming from beyond the door. Not even footsteps.
Fresh questions swirled through me. Was I still at the palace? Why the change of scenery? Was this just another hallucination? Too many questions, and not a single answer.
Though I knew there wouldn’t be a way out, I still checked the door because I’d be a fool not to. But it was like something from a spaceship or a lab, in that there was no knob or lock. There weren’t even hinges. I ran my fingers over the white surface, frowning. Did the door just slide up, then?
I supposed that I’d find out soon enough. I backed away from it, letting out an anxious breath. Now what?
The stillness made it impossible to ignore my throbbing shoulder. Strangely enough, I welcomed the pain—it meant the drugs were definitely out of my system. It also seemed like evidence that I was truly awake and these padded walls were real.
If I wasn’t in a dream, then Belanor would be stopping by soon. Or someone worse.
My mind filled with the memory of the Seelie Prince sitting in that tufted chair. His eyes gleaming like bits of metal while he watched me scream and burn.
Fear breathed down my neck now, a hot and acrid sensation. Since waking up, part of me must’ve still been lost within that drugged haze, because I hadn’t felt any panic or urgency. Now it descended upon me like a grizzly bear, tearing at my mind with teeth and claws. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t hide. Belanor would return, and he didn’t play by the same rules as his brother. He might actually kill me.
Occupied. I needed to keep myself occupied.
While I waited for someone to come, I went through the exercises Dad had taught me. I did sit ups. I jogged in place. It wasn’t long until my crisp, white scrubs clung to my back.
I kept it up for one hour. Then, two. I lost track of time after that, because my ribs started aching and I stopped moving. Spent at last, I sat down and carefully rested against the wall, mindful of the still-healing brand.
“I must really be awake,” I muttered. No dream or hallucination would be this boring.
I kept waiting. No one had thought to hang a clock in the room—or maybe it was intentional—so I had no way of knowing how much time had passed. As more seconds ticked by, the quiet started to feel substantial. Like a thickness in the air. Like a weight pressing down on me and filling my lungs. I couldn’t let myself think about Belanor, even though I probably should have been. I still needed to make a plan for escape and my captor’s weaknesses would play a key role in that.