Page 156 of Under Restless Skies

“You didn’t have to kill her!” The angry words come out before I can stop them.

“Oh, I did. Who else would I blame? And you should be happy I got rid of her. She was not your friend. She’s the one who came to me during the last star nectar party, so eager to tell me you hadn’t been sleeping in your room. I knew where you were spending your nights, but I could use more eyes on you—during the day. She was so eager to track what you were doing, to keep me informed. Not only that, she fucked me quite willingly. Begged me to fuck her, the pathetic thing.” He narrows his eyes. “And you’re upset she’s gone?”

“You could have left me alone, started a relationship with her. You could be living a happy life now.”

He sneers. “You think I liked her? You think I enjoyed taking her to my bed? No. I was doing it for you, to ensure I had eyes observing you. Don’t be ungrateful.”

“What else? Did you strangle Silvia for me?”

“I did, yes.” He blinks, his tone so innocent, while nausea stirs in my stomach. “She wanted to ruin our engagement, tell you things you shouldn’t know, and I had to finish her.”

The casual way he mentions murder turns my body cold. And I’m here, at his mercy. I need to give him a reason not to kill me, and I decide to appeal to his pride.

“You’re quite charming, Alayel. I’m sure you can get people to do what you want without killing them.”

He gets up. “True, but killing is faster. And I’m a prince now.” He strokes his chin. “I can kill. Maybe I like it. Don’t test me, Mayara. As much as I enjoy your presence, maybe I’d also enjoy strangling your cute little neck. But I’d rather make sure you never betray me again. I’ll mold you, put you under my control. You’re going to obey me, and you know what? You’ll realize you like it. The perfect queen. Meek, obedient, gentle. It will work out. I’ll even forgive your little insubordination. It will all work out.”

A thought comes to me quickly. He sees me as a challenge. If I please him too much, he’ll get tired of me.

I raise an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

He kneels before me, then slaps my face softly. “Don’t test me.”

“What if I like it?” I smirk, pretending to be playful.

“Oh, we’ll have a good time.” His slap is harder.

He gets up and walks to his washroom, then returns and places a basin beside me. “If you need to pee. See? I’m nice.”

When he finally leaves the room, and I find myself alone, I allow my tears to flow. I failed. I couldn’t fix my mistakes, and now two innocent lives will suffer.

And I can do nothing with two manacles biting my wrists—and clamping my heart.

My body hurts from sitting, and eventually I find that I can lie down on the floor while still chained to the wall. Alayel has been gone for hours, and I haven’t eaten or drunk anything. But hunger is the least of my worries, when I don’t know what’s happening to Ava and Vos.

At least my brother and Laristella are far away. Soon someone will attempt to retrieve me from the cleaning crew’s room—and I won’t be there.

A hopeful part of me wonders if Commander Mallor will figure out what happened and barge into this room to free me. A bitter chuckle leaves my lips. What are the odds he’ll jeopardize his position for a daughter he never cared for? A daughter who has betrayed him. Yes, because once he hears someone tried to remove the hatchlings from the castle, he’ll know I’m the culprit. So no hope there.

Nelly comes to mind, with her childish, naive smirk, foolishly thinking she was saving her own skin, perhaps even guaranteeing her future. Amidst my devastation, I have no anger or bitterness to spare for her.

Sure, she betrayed me, but who knows what lies Alayel fed her? Who knows what desperation drove her? And then she died like that, like a tool tossed aside, her body taken to feed Dracolius’ monstrous dragon.

The lock clicks, and I sit up. Alayel stumbles through the door, kissing and fondling a brunette girl.

“That’s my betrothed.” He points in my direction, his voice slurred with alcohol. “She likes to watch.”

I wish I could curl into myself and hide.

The young woman looks at me, her eyes glassy with alcohol or maybe star nectar, and laughs. At least she’s not scared, I suppose.

I look away at the window and ignore them, even when I hear sounds of flesh against flesh.

Whatever I felt for Alayel, it fell into those wet cobblestones with Nelly’s blood. What astounds me is how much I ignored: his cruelty, his volatility, his casual mentions of murder, his lack of compassion. It was all there, and he didn’t even try to hide it. Not only that, he often referred to me like a pretty object he liked to own.

I was drunk with lust, overwhelmed with his attention, dazzled by the idea of being betrothed to a prince, and pushed away all the rest. Even dismissed all of Mallor’s warnings.

Now I’m here. Chained.