CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Calista
The castle bustled with activity as I roamed the halls to learn the lay of my temporary home. It was much different than last time when anyone who was able went out in search of the pixie. Although nearly a week had passed, it felt like yesterday to me. Servants hurried by in their rush to complete their tasks and not displease their king. They didn’t look at or talk to me, but I would catch them watching me when they didn’t think I was paying them attention. It made me wonder if they were allowed to speak to me or if I scared them. They scared me when I was younger. Now…I wasn’t sure how I felt about them. What I did know was I was tired of walking these bland and boring halls. I needed to be outside and away from here so I could think clearly.
When I woke this morning, Astaroth was gone, and his side of the bed was cold. Even the vomit on the floor had been wipedclean. Being the curious person I am, I spent a minute nosing around his space since there was light enough to do so. His room was an emo kid’s wet dream with black velvet curtains pinned back in the mouths of fae gargoyle creatures to reveal his balcony. A massive painting hung above the fireplace of the labyrinth from an aerial view. I wondered how accurate it was with their lack of technology and how the corridors changed. Off to the side was a sitting area with two plush, high-back chairs and a round coffee table made of gnarled wood. Shelves wrapped around the corner behind it, filled with books, decor, and weapons. My finger danced above the spine of a leatherbound tome. I itched to slide it out, run my hands over it, and crack it open. Did it contain secrets that could direct me home? I dropped my hand knowing full well he would sense if any of his belongings had been disturbed.
Instead, I scooped up my music box and stared at the bed we had shared for days. The previous night’s conversation played in my mind, along with the vision of him shirtless. As thin as he is, I was surprised he wasn’t bony at all. Astaroth was GQ worthy, and that didn’t help matters in the slightest.
I gazed out one of the many open windows with a longing I couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps it was homesickness and missing Kaiden and Gina or feeling out of place here and wanting my ordinary life back. Or wondering where Astaroth disappeared to and how our next interaction would go, or when Jessandra would return so I could get off house arrest and leave. I guess what it all boiled down to was freedom. It was the greatest common denominator, the central spoke they all revolved around, and it was stolen from me. That steady burning anger and resentment reared its head. I refused to have all my freedoms stripped from me. I didn’t need a babysitter to go on a damn walk.
My hand went to the wishing stone and slid it back and forth on the chain as I worked up the courage to leave the castle grounds. It was an absentminded habit that began long ago. I stopped when I noticed what I was doing and covered it with my palm when I saw one of the maids watching me. Would she be the next to try to steal it? It wasn’t safe around my neck, especially outside the castle walls without a guard.
I took off for my room with renewed vigor only stopping when I passed the tapestry of Astaroth on the stairs. I looked over my shoulder at his gaze that seemed to follow me and flipped it the bird.
“Screw you, buddy. I can do what I want.”
I jogged the rest of the way to my room, chuckling at my childish behavior. It was so dumb, but I didn’t care because it felt so good. Rebellious was my middle name growing up, and I hadn’t felt that rush of adrenaline since I was teen, sneaking out of the house with friends and boyfriends to do things we had no business doing. But we did them, and all in the name of freedom and to feel alive.
I closed the door behind me and rushed to the music box. Slipping the necklace off, I tucked it inside the box and snapped the lid closed.
“Where can I hide you?” I mumbled as I spun a slow circle searching the bare room. It was the same size as Astaroth’s, only the layout was flipped. Anywhere I could hide it would be the first place someone looked. I had to get creative. Up high would be perfect since the goblins couldn’t reach. I set the box on the bed and worked my way around the room feeling for loose stones. They were too large to loosen though. I dropped my chin and sighed. A chipped floor tile caught my eye. The broken corner screamed “Pull here!” I dropped down and picked at it. There was some give, but I’d have to be careful not to crack it. With each little tug, the grout around it crumbled. What couldI use to break the rest? I ran to the closet and grabbed a metal hanger and one of my heels. Holding the toe of the shoe, I used it like a hammer and tapped around the tile just hard enough to wear it down. The hanger fit perfectly in the groove to scrape at the remaining bits. I brushed away the dust and chunks with my hand and tried to lift it again. With a final crack, the thin brick lifted out of the floor.
It was dark and the depth was questionable. I grabbed a candle and stuck it inside. Spiders scurried away from the opening, and so did I. I almost died once; I didn’t want to find out what a fae spider bite would do to me. Pretty sure it wouldn’t give me superpowers. Hesitant, I went back to the hole and stood the hanger longways. It touched a hard surface and still stuck out.
I snatched the box off the bed, tucked it inside, and replaced the tile hiding its whereabouts. For double measure, I scooted the small nearby table over the top of it and set the chair beside it.
I crossed my arms and rubbed my bottom lip as I inspected my handiwork.
“Perfect.”
Escaping, if I could even call it that, was easier than I thought it would be. I just walked right out. The goblins guarding the bridge were too busy having a pissing contest. Literally. Their backs were to me as they guffawed over whose stream of urine arched higher and farther. Men and their dicks were ridiculous. How they continued to hold seats of power was beyond me. It made me think of that quote, “Behind every great man was agreat woman… blah, blah blah.” This woman busted out and intended to do something so she wouldn’t go crazy.
Goblin Circle wasn’t as crowded with the market closed. I was grateful to have no one in my face begging me to buy stuff. I looked around. And no redcaps trying to kill me with fairy dust. Just me and—a door slammed. Then another. The few goblins remaining noticed me and hightailed it away.
“Okay then.”
I reached the side street where Bobbins’ shop was and decided to pay her a visit.
“Hello?” I called out over the bell.
“I see you didn’t wither away,” her gravelly voice mumbled from off to the side. She stood atop a stump at a dress form with pins sticking out of her mouth. “Guess that means I have to finish these dresses.”
“Glad to see you, too,” I said and dropped down on a short stool. “And yes. The dress he picked for me was—”
Bobbins glared at me before plucking the pins from her mouth and pointing them at me. “Choose your next words carefully. I worked long and hard on that gown, I did.”
I swallowed. “It was gorgeous.”
“That’s what I thought.” She humphed. “Since you’re here, we might as well fit you for the one I have completed. But by the looks of ya, I’ll have to take it in more.”
She shocked me when she hopped off the stump and disappeared behind a standing shade. I had a moment of panic, thinking her bones would shatter on impact. Bobbins was not as frail as she appeared. Wheels squeaked as she pushed another dress form out in the open.
My jaw dropped in shock. She pulled off the impossible and turned my horrid sketch meant to ward off any man into the most elegant and divine garment I’d ever seen. Bobbins would put any designer to shame.
“I took some liberties with your dra’rings,” she said as I circled it in awe of the intricate details she added.
“I see that.”
