Jessandra jerked back, nose scrunched up. “Those are the least of your concerns. Have you smelled yourself?”
I chuckled. “Yes. I’d love a shower.” The bathroom may look like mine, but it was all smoke and mirrors.
“Shower?” After I explained what it was, she responded, “We do not have a shower, although that sounds intriguing. I will call for a bath. You will need it. The king requests your presence at dinner tonight.”
Time to acclimate, my ass. He wasn’t joking when he said soon. “Nah, I’ll keep my stench. Consider it perfume.”
She ignored me. “When the bell chimes six times, I will collect you and show you the way. Be ready. There is proper attire in the wardrobe for your nightly dinners.”
“Nightly?” I pushed off the stone and jabbed a thumb at the castle. “He’s living in his own little dream world if he thinks I’ll be attending nightly dinners.”
Jessandra didn’t falter. That same hard gaze remained steadfast. “Do not push him on this. He may overlook one or two in the beginning, Calista, but a request from Astaroth is a demand.”
“More like a command.”
“It will take adjustment.” Her teeth ground together as she looked past me and forced out, “He is a nice king until he is not.”
I wondered if he stood in the same spot as last night, watching us and listening. I refused to turn around and check. “So, you can lie.”
She stalked inside, and I followed, glancing out of the corner of my eye for him only to see nothing but a blur of movement. He had been there. Sneaky, sneaky.
“They will be up shortly with a tub. Be ready by six. I do not want to guide you again.”
“Are you living—” She left before I could finish. The door to my prison closed without the click I was accustomed to hearing. “Here now? Oh, awesome. Good talk, Jess.”
Astaroth missed all the minute details that made my homehome. The click of the door, the way carpet muted echoes, the thin layer of dust on my belongings, and the motes floating in the air. The smell was even different. It was too pristine for the lifestyle I led and reminded me of an old movie I watched where a person was taken from their home by the government and planted in a room that mirrored their own. They knew the difference, too. It would eventually drive me crazy, just as it did them.
The bell tolled outside the castle walls. It resonated inside me with every chime. I held my breath as I counted along to twelve. Silence. Air gushed from my lungs, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Astaroth would expect me primped and at his table in six hours. He gave me a whopping two days to adjust to this new life. He could kiss my stinky, jiggly ass.
I went to the door to see if she locked it. The knob turned, and I smiled, but it quickly slipped from my face. Jessandra stood on the other side with her back to me, feet spread apart, and arms crossed. She glanced over her shoulder, a knowing glint in her eyes. I closed the door on my current escape plan.
Deep breath in…I can do this.Deep breath out…I’ve done it before.
Deep breath in… I needed to get my shit together and keep it together. Nice and organized with file tabs and stickers andwashi tape like Gina used. Deep breath out… because no one was coming to save me but me.
I choked on an inhale and fought the fear strangling me. Maybe Jess would eventually take pity on me. Yeah, right. She’d be more apt to lock me in here for annoying her or even kill me. The second would happen before the first if I pissed her off enough. That left one option. I had to overcome my fear and make friends and allies who could help me. To do that, I had to play along first. I knew that it might lead to this, but not this soon. Thinking and doing it were two very different things. His very presence, hell, even the thought of him, triggered me. Could I pretend without him knowing? I sure hoped so. How long could I do it before I cracked?
I had to find out.
The closet antagonized me from across the room. What did proper attire mean in a place like this? Hopefully not ruffles and lace. I pepped myself up. I could do this. I had to. I closed my eyes, counted to three, and opened it. The normal squeak from the hinges wasn’t there. Instead of the small space, it opened to the size of a small room with racks and shelves. My normal wardrobe hung on one side and the other contained a single garment: a deep purple ball gown with black embroidered flowers. Beneath it was a pair of flats that matched. I backed away, dreading the nightly dinners if it meant I had to wear that getup.
