Page 73 of Gilded Curses

Aurora and Alda believed they knew this castle too well not to have found a hidden door, but Belda had known her pub inside and out and had never known.

Then she recalled what Alda had said about why they were given rooms in the castle… “That was Sheree’s idea. That’s why she stayed back when everyone else went to greet you. She kept a handful of servants with her to ready the rooms, and I was one of them. She thought it would be fun.”

At the time, Sahira took that to mean treating them so luxuriously when they planned to kill them was nothing more than another game, but what if it was something more? What if these rooms were Sheree’s personal game? Her secret little fuck you to them and every dagadon in the realm?

Sheree was the only one who knew the location of the stones. Sahira doubted that after killing off all those who originally knew where they were hid—and she was convinced that’s exactly what Sheree did—she’d told anyone else their location.

They were hers. This realm was hers, and no one would take it from her, but that didn’t mean the overconfident, arrogant bitch still didn’t like playing games with them. She did that every single day by keeping all the dagadon trapped here.

Orin had gone out to get weapons and answers, but what if the answers were beneath their feet the whole time?

Sahira released the closet doors and stepped back as her gaze fell to the floor. She’d done a cursory search for trapdoors while looking for the symbols in her room, but she never had the time to do a more intensive search and doubted Orin had either.

In the other towns, they’d designed the trapdoor in the pub so perfectly that it was almost impossible to see without knowing what to look for. Anything inside this castle would be the same.

And how Sheree would laugh and think it was so much fun to put them in these rooms, all while knowing they were so close to the key that could break them free of this gilded prison.

That was probably why they weren’t in the dungeon… yet. Sheree would get more entertainment out of knowing they were stuck in these rooms with freedom at their fingertips.

Sahira rushed into the closet and shoved the clothes aside to carefully feel over the back wall. She didn’t care how many hours it took; she’d search every inch of her and Orin’s rooms for a way out. If she failed to find anything, she’d go for the brownies’ room next.

She’d worry about Zeth and Elsa’s rooms later. For now, she had to focus on this as excitement hammered through her and she made her way lower down the wall.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

It took Orin longer than he would have liked to find a way into the castle as guards spread around the perimeter. After what happened on the hunt, Desmond and Sheree weren’t taking any chances when it came to him and his friends.

He’d fooled them into thinking he was too weak to try anything tonight. He wouldn’t succeed in doing so again, which meant he had to make this count.

He didn’t have much time to accomplish what he planned to. He had to return to Sahira before the servants went to wake them, which could be at any time.

Desmond and Sheree would change the game again tomorrow because he’d changed it on them. He wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to wake them all in an hour or two.

That possibility caused his throat to constrict while fear niggled along his nape, but no matter what, he couldn’t turn back.

He glanced behind him, but Sahira’s balcony had vanished from view a while ago. Not being able to see it caused anxiety to claw at his insides. For a man who, up until recently, wasn’t familiar with emotions like anxiety or jealousy, he’d sure experienced them a lot since Sahira entered the Cursed Realm.

He still wasn’t entirely familiar with the new emotions or good at handling them, and right now, he needed to keep them buried. He loved Sahira, but the mostly emotionless man he’d been for centuries was the only way he’d get through this.

With steely determination, he shut down all his concerns for her. If he didn’t, he’d never get through this.

Ahead of him, a door swung open as a servant walked out to hang a rug over a wooden post. She beat the dust from it with a paddle before lifting it and heading back into the castle.

Before the door closed, Orin slid into the building behind her. He paused to take in his surroundings as the servant hurried away.

In the sconces surrounding him, magical light flickered from the torches lining the walls. The murmur of voices came from ahead, but he wasn’t concerned about them, as the lights provided plenty of shadows to keep himself concealed.

Moving swiftly down the hall, he rounded a corner and spotted two servants pushing a cart of silver trays. Orin remained hidden in the shadows as they took a right and left before stopping in front of a door.

One opened the door before helping the other gather some of the trays. Curious about whether the food might be going to some of the Elite, Orin slipped past them while they were still preoccupied trying to balance as many trays as possible between them.

Almost immediately, he knew he’d been wrong as the twisting stairs descended past dimly lit torches that barely pierced the darkness ahead. There weren’t as many shadows here, but he could still keep himself cloaked in them.

He couldn’t turn back as the trays clicked and clattered from the servants descending behind him. Orin stepped off the last stair and into the dungeon.

The foul aromas of shit, piss, and body odor permeated the air. Groans of misery and whimpers of despair came from behind the metal doors with a single slot in the middle.

Orin edged away from the stairs so the servants wouldn’t accidentally hit him when they entered the room but didn’t go further into the castle’s bowels. The doors stretched on until they disappeared, and he didn’t doubt that unfortunate souls filled every room.