Composed.
Resilient.
By the time I reach the foyer at the base of my tower, I almost believe myself.
Bending to slip my heels on, I notice a dinner tray sitting on the ground near the open doorway, covered by a wooden lid with a small velvet pouch perched on top. Frowning, I reach for it ...
The door slams shut.
The sound of a bolt sliding into place has my heart diving into my stomach. I dart forward, grasp the brass handle, and push—
The door doesn’t budge.
It’s never been locked before. I didn’t even know ithada lock.
“Hey!” I bellow, slapping my hand against the wood so hard my palm throbs. “Open the damn door!”
My only response is a convenient void of silence.
No retreating footsteps.
Whoever just locked me in here is standing by, listening to me yell, and there’s onlyoneperson I’d give that sort of credit to.
“Rhordyn!I know you’re there! Open this door right now!”
Nothing.
I kick at it, slam my shoulder against it, search its hinges for a way to pry them loose ...
“Rhordyn!”
Heavy footsteps retreat down the hall while I kick and snarl and scream. Teeth bared, I unfasten a hairpin and dig it down the side of the door where I think the lock might be, but it’s useless.
There’s no weakness for me to manipulate.
Bent pin pinched between my throbbing fingers, I crumble to the ground in a frustrated, sweaty heap ...
How dare he.
* * *
Flopped on the bed, I stare daggers at the velvet bag hanging from my finger. The one I just opened to reveal a stash of healthy bluebell heads ...minus the stems.
I frown, seeing the gift for what it really is.
Placation.
Perhaps Zali told Rhordyn I was standing behind that curtain. Perhaps he’s just being a controlling prick. Whatever the cause of my sudden jailing, the outcome is still the same.
I’m pissed, trapped, anxious ... and that’s a dangerous mix.
I’m not silly. I know Cainon has seen something he likes in me—that he’s using me as a bargaining chip. Something Rhordyn is obviously opposed to.
I know he thinks I’m better than a political pairing, but what Cainon said to me at the base of Stony Stem suggested Rhordyn’s own pairing is at least partially political. And what’s good enough for Rhordyn is good enough for me.
I may not be a High Mistress, but I can do one better than Zali. I can secure Rhordyn a hundred ships and the means to put a stop to the carnage spreading across the land. I can help make the world a safer place just by accepting a simple cupla.
But I can’t do that from up here in my tower, and the deal’s off the table at midnight.
