I suppose one positive of this situation was that Tristan wasn’t a total ass like the rest of the vampyres. It was the first time I hadn’t felt alone since finding out the truth about Malakai, though I wasn’t happy that Tristan was a prisoner as well.
I still didn’t know what to think of the man, but I appreciated the small kindness he afforded me by threatening the other guards with the reminder of who I was. Between his reminders and my own, they had yet to touch me. It left me with a smug satisfaction that I kept hidden, knowing they would look for any excuse to get to me. So I had kept in the back of my cell, tucked into the shadows, trying not to incite their anger.
Half of the things they said made me want to roll my eyes and scoff, which was why I was being particularly careful right now. I wasn’t sure that in my agitated, starving state I’d be able to keep myself from saying exactly what I thought about their lewd and chauvinistic comments.
The sound of the opening dungeon door had me looking up from where I was pressed into the corner of the wall, crouched down with my knees pulled up against my chest. It was so cold and damp down here that my toes had gone numb long ago. My fingers protested in pain when I tried to move them, and one of my only nice skirts was ruined, having soaked in whatever was on the floor of this cell. Nothing good, from what I could tell.
“Is she up?”
Tristan’s voice had me sitting up straighter, hoping I’d finally get out of here.
“No fucking idea. Haven’t heard a word from her today,” one of them grunted, sounding annoyed.
Tristan appeared in front of the cell, his eyes widening as he took in my current state. “I’ve been ordered to bring you up to your private chambers to get ready.”
I nodded, standing up. Black spots filled my vision, and my muscles felt achy, advertising that I was weaker than I had been in quite some time. I stumbled forward and crossed my arms, holding myself around the ribs to maintain some level of center as I reached the door. Tristan motioned me out of the cell, and I thought I saw a hint of sadness in his gaze.
I had to be imagining it—vampyres didn’t care about humans, and they certainly didn’t feel bad for them.
While Tristan hadn’t mentioned why he couldn’t bring me food in the past two days, it was clear there had been a ruling by the Emperor that I wouldn’t be given any meals, and like a good guard, he had followed the order.
I couldn’t really blame him, though. Not when his family was on the line.
The other two dungeon guards were quiet as I was led out of the space, my lips tweaking up into a smile at their discomfort around Tristan. Good. I had been subjected to two days of their disgusting conversations on everything from women to murder—sometimes in tandem with each other—and it had cemented in my head that it was in vampyres’ nature to be this… ruthless, in all aspects.
I was so out of it that I didn’t even realize the door to the dungeon had closed behind us until Tristan spoke, reminding me of the soundproof barrier now in place.
“You look like shit.”
I snorted and shook my head. “Thanks so much. Here I thought I looked like a queen, especially after being treated to the royal suite for so long.”
I swear I heard the faintest of chuckles from him.
After a long moment, we began walking up the steps, Tristan speaking so quietly I struggled to hear him. “The Emperor is still furious with you. I’ll do my best to find you some food, but just know this isn’t over for him. Far from it.”
I believed that. Malakai was so damn vindictive.
As we finally made it out of the dungeon, Tristan’s hand clasped around my arm, guiding me to a set of stairs out of the public eye. I knew Malakai would’ve loved for me to walk through his castle looking like shit so he could prove how much control he had over my well-being, but he must not have explicitly ordered public humiliation because Tristan was attempting to be discreet.
I was fairly sure that between the warning to the dungeon guards regarding Malakai’s anger and now this, it was his attempt at a small sliver of kindness. It was as much as he could afford to give me, with what he had on the line. Perhaps even more than he could afford.
Maybe it wasn’t in vampyre nature to be completely depraved, but it was more likely that Tristan was an outlier. Who knows, though… Maybe it was this castle and Malakai that made its inhabitants so vile. I wouldn’t have been surprised by that—the man was a performer, and this castle was his stage.
“What am I getting ready for?” I finally asked as we traveled up a flight of stairs that led to my private chambers.
“The party our Emperor is hosting for Lords and their Thralls,” Tristan explained, the memory of Malakai’s threat ringing in my ears.
Shit.Had he truly been serious?
My breath caught as I tried to steady myself, knowing that working myself into a panicked state wasn’t the best move.
Before I could question him further, we arrived at a familiar dark door that was worn around the edges, looking like a hard wind could blow it off its hinges. I tensed, meeting the gazes of two women standing near the end of the bed, both offering Tristan a nod of greeting but completely looking past me. As if I didn’t exist.
“I’ll be back,” Tristan said, pushing me into the room and quickly closing the door before I could try to bolt.
I scowled. I knew he was going to find food for me, but had the shove been necessary?
Taking in the two maids before me, I noticed one was older than the other. Her outfit was marginally nicer in fabric quality, symbolizing that she was in charge.
