Page 97 of Escape from the Green

"Well," Jet's voice snapped, a whip of a noise that even I shocked back at even though it wasn't being swung at me. "Is someone going to unshackle her, or should I remedy your fuck up myself?"

Everything about Jet's voice was pure royalty. Cruel, Dark royalty, sure, but royalty none the less. Confident, cocky, condescending.

And the guards responded to it, nearly tripping over each other to go fetch the equipment. Which I had a feeling was going to be unpleasant and sharp.

But it was better, I was sure, than having the iron continually eating my flesh away.

"Venia," I told him, making his brows raise.

"Who is Venia?"

"Your grandmother who is shackled down here with me," I shot back, irritation slipping into my words, for some reason knowing that Jet - unlike his father - wouldn't punish me for it.

We were all pawns, after all, in the Unseelie King's game.

"One thing you should be aware of, Amethyst. This is not an act of mercy. I am not a merciful man. You are my fiancée. This is a matter of respect. I take that very seriously. The fate of old women... not so much. So if you do find yourself occasionally plagued with ideas of benevolence, I advice you to keep it to yourself. There is no place for it in this life."

I had to work to bite back the response on the tip of my tongue, but luckily the guards came thundering back down the stairs, rushing over toward me, taking perhaps a bit more care than they would have if Jet were not standing there watching, his handsome face completely impassive, arms folded over his chest, not so much as wincing when the guards started hacking away at the iron, making me writhe and cry out as the metal was forced deeper against my skin at times, making it cut in.

"I don't think that could have taken any longer if you tried," Jet chastised, not offering me a hand as I struggled to get to my feet.

I had no idea at this point if he was putting on a show for his guards, or if he was genuinely just this much of a, well, prick.

But I got myself to my own feet, falling behind him as he turned and walked toward the stairs.

As I passed, Venia's gaze held mine. My pain for her must have been on her face because all she did was shrug. "Double the food for me," I could have sworn she murmured, sounding like she was trying to console me, trying to assuage my guilt for my sort-of freedom.

"Walk faster," Jet demanded. "The sooner I can get you to a bath, and get that stench off of you, the happier I will be."

Behind me, the guards chuckled, making the skin of my neck and cheeks heat. Because, well, I knew I smelled. Like sweat and oil and, well, blood. "Have someone fetch her some fresh clothing," Jet demanded as he stopped beside a closed door, giving them a pointed look when they didn't immediately turn to do so.

Only when they moved away did he reach for the knob, pushing open the door, ushering me inside, but careful to avoid letting any of my filth brush him.

It was what you might expect.

From a Prince.

In a palace.

In the Dark Court.

Jet's bedroom was easily three times the size of my childhood bedroom which was three times the size of the home Drake and I lived in together.

It was dominated by a canopy bed, the wood stained nearly black, the canopy itself a deep navy, matching the color on the walls. The thick carpets on the floor looked eerily similar to that of the hide that covered the bottom half of centaur, the idea making my blood run cold, making a shiver rack my system.

"Go through there," Jet demanded, waving a hand. There will be a basin to start cleaning with. The guards will be bringing in hot water for a full bath. I don't think I need to tell you what you smell like."

My lip curled, anger like I hadn't known before making my skin vibrate, made my lips become loose.

"One more comment about how I look or smell, Jet," I growled.

"It is an observation."

"It is an insult," I shot back. "Did it occur to you to ask about my ankle that has the skin flayed off?"

"It will heal. There are salves in the wash room as well."

"You're a real bastard, Jet."