“You know what.”
“Stretching? I’ve been sitting in this chair for ages. My muscles are stiff.” I rolled my shoulders. Slowly.
He stood and gathered his papers.
“I’ll arrange a room,” he said. “And a meal. And—” His gaze dropped to my shorts and snapped back up. “Clothing.”
“I have clothing.”
“You have undergarments. Come with me.”
I followed him out of the interrogation room and down a corridor that was, if anything, even more aggressively medieval than the room. Stone walls. Stone floor. Torches in iron brackets, spaced evenly, casting overlapping pools of warm light. The air was cooler out here, and I became painfully aware that I was wearing sparkly shorts and a crop top.
Aeldryc walked ahead of me. He didn’t look back. His stride was long and unhurried, the walk of a man who owned every hallway he passed through, and I had to half-jog to keep up.
Fuck, tall people walked fast. We turned corner after corner, and I was trying to keep track of the layout but this place was a maze, all identical stone corridors and iron-banded doors.
We went up a staircase, then another. The air grew warmer and the torchlight gave way to softer lanterns. This wasn’t a dungeon anymore. He led me through a sitting room and into a small bedroom. My eyes landed on a real bed with a thick, woven blanket, and I could have cried. It was simple, but after the stone and iron, it felt like a palace. He moved to the hearth and, with a few brisk movements, had a small fire crackling in the grate.
“This is—” I said. “Is this my room?”
“It’s a spare bedroom in my quarters,” he said. “You will be locked in here when not accompanying me, until the Queen decides what to do with you. There will be food sent up. Don’t leave this room. The door behind you is a water closet, so you should have everything you need. The water from the tap is clean to drink.”
“I thought you were taking me to the dungeon,” I whispered.
He glanced at me. “I was.”
I opened my mouth to say something cute, something flirty. The sort of thing I always used to deflect tension and keep things light. But my throat had gone tight, and what came out instead was: “Thank you. For changing your mind.”
His expression was unreadable. Then he nodded, once, and pulled the door shut between us.
The second I was alone, I realized I desperately had to pee. I turned to peek through the door he’d pointed to, studying thesmall room inside and pulling a lever on what appeared to be a wash basin. And I squealed with delight. This place had running water.
I saw a stone basin that had to be a toilet, and I finally peed, the relief so intense I nearly sagged against the wall. Why hadn’t I realized I’d been holding it?
I splashed my face with cool water from the tap, filled a small goblet and drank greedily. Those little cakes had been good for my hunger, but they’d done nothing for my hydration levels.
Muscles stiff, I forced myself to walk back in the bedroom, sat down on the bed, pulled one of the quilts into my lap. My whole body shook as I pressed the soft fabric into my face, trying to stave off a panic attack. Because this was fucking real, and not just because Aeldryc had said so.
Peeing in dreams never worked.
Chapter 4
Aeldryc
Iwalkedoutofmy bedroom, buckling the lower straps on my leather armor and grabbing a hunk of bread and some cheese on my way out the door. This was my usual routine, and it almost worked. I almost got out of there without thinking about Pip. But when my gaze swept across my guest room door, my chest squeezed.
His mere presence stopped me.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath, wondering what in all the realms was happening to me. The young man inside had been crying the night before. I shook my head. The last thing he needed was to be shaken awake by a fae warrior. The boy was a suspect, a possible interloper. Definitely not someone who needed hugs or reassurances. As if I was someone capable of hugs and reassurances.
He was locked in, for the safety of the kingdom, even though I couldn’t envision the cheeky Pippin Crane being a danger to anyone other than himself.
I stepped closer to the door, letting my head rest on the wood for a moment as I listened for a reason to barge inside and check on him. But he was quiet, probably asleep. And the thought that he might have cried himself to sleep when I could have—No. What would I have done?
I’d been under too much pressure lately. Hadn’t taken leave in too long. That was all. I turned away from the door, checking the lock once before leaving my apartments.
I flagged down a footman passing in the corridor. “Get breakfast for the guest in my quarters. Bring a guard, as he’s technically a prisoner, and lock my exterior apartment door when you leave as well.”
