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“Careful who hears you talking like that,” I say quietly.
“You think me wrong?” he asks.
“No, you’re not wrong.”
He scoffs. “When are you going to decide to stop letting your brother maneuver? He’s clearly trying to weasel his way into the throne. The throne that’s rightfully yours.”
I grip the front of Dirk’s unfastened shirt, advancing until his back is pressed to the wall. “You forget yourself, brother,” I say.
“I don’t want to see that man named king. I know you don’t give a shit what happens to this city, but I happen to know there are still countless virgins out there for the taking. If Titus gets his hands on the scepter, he’ll land us in a war we can’t win. Or worse. By the time he’s done, there won’t be any virgins left because we’ll all be fucking dead.”
I let Dirk go, teeth still clenched. “Your concerns have been heard. You remember what I asked of you? Don’t fail me.”
He gives me a mock salute before closing the door. “Wake up,” I hear him call cheerily through the door. “It’s time for round three. Or is it four?”7ElizabethI wake with a gasp, sitting upright and blinking away the sleep. It’s my first morning in Burkewood palace, and the sunrise from this high tower is dazzling. I move to the window, still wearing the gown from last night--the gown I raised for Prince Roark. My cheeks color at the memory of him, the way his hands held so much power, like he could dominate me with the slightest effort, with just the slightest thought he could make my will his own.
I breathe out, trying not to think of him. If I’m going to survive in this strange, absolutely crazy place that might just be my new reality, I have to be careful. I’ve already learned enough to know anything involving Prince Roark is far from careful. He’s a dangerous man, even if he is mouth-wateringly handsome and darkly mysterious in exactly the right ways.Just thinking of the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle way his lips curl up when he’s amused make my legs feel like they might give out. And those eyes… A shudder runs through me. Prince Roark is dangerous for me. Very dangerous.
The city bustles with activity below, but from this height it’s like watching a cross section of an anthill. Red light from the rising sun bathes everything in view, from the rounded roofs of buildings to the criss crossing streets choked with people going about their morning business. There’s a distinctly modern feel to this place, but the lack of cars adds a charm I can’t quite describe, as if there’s a hint of the past here. A hint of simpler times and simpler lives. I can almost imagine I’m living back in medieval times, but with proper plumbing and air conditioning.
If nothing else about the Shrouded Kingdom appealed to me, I can at least get behind the idea of simple.
The sound of footsteps echoes up from my staircase. I step back involuntarily, clasping my hands in front of myself and breathing hard, at least until I think back to the slow, steady pace of Prince Roark’s breath and I force myself to his speed. Calm. I may not be able to control much here, but that’s how life has always been for me. I can control myself, and I can make sure I’m calm and composed. This may be a new place, but eighteen years of misery shaped and prepared me for this.
I let out the breath I was holding when I see Marcella, Kadene, and Niera come gliding up the stairs. They all pause to look at me like I have three heads when they see me.
“You slept in your dress?” asks Marcella with a disapproving tone.
“Last night was… difficult,” I say.
The women waste no more time, swooping in on me like a flock of busy birds, stripping my clothes without embarrassment and unpacking equipment that looks like a portable makeover set. Niera fills up a tub at the edge of my room, keeping her shy eyes down as she works. Kadene is chattering my ear off so quickly I’m only able to catch bits and pieces.
“...will look so good blonde,” she says.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, still nowhere near used to being stripped naked in front of three women, not to mention in full view of the circular windows in my room that would give any bored city goer with binoculars quite a show from below.
“Princess, did you fall on your bum?” asks Marcella. “It looks a little red.”
My cheeks immediately burn. The memory of Roark and the paddle come back to me. I can still hear the smack of leather against my skin. “Y-yes. I sleepwalk. I tripped on the stairs.”
