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“Nor,” he says, and my back instinctively straightens. “I take it you know why you’re here.”
I dip my horns in reply. “The servant said it was in regards to the prisoners.”
“That’s correct. I’ve been informed that they’re up and walking, therefore, they’re ready to be questioned,” he says, his voice cutting sharply through the air around us. “Fetch them and make sure they’re cuffed when they leave the cell.”
I nod again, wondering why I’m the one being sent to fetch them rather than someone of a lower rank, but I don’t question his demands. I suspect it’s because I took responsibility for them.
“Bring them here,” he says and waves his hand toward the door.
I don’t dare object. “Yes sir.”
Oryx follows silently on my heels as I turn and head hastily toward the dungeon to collect the humans. I’m tense with nerves as I try to imagine how the interrogation will go, but not for the prisoners. They deserve whatever happens to them. My concern is for Irissa, because I know without a doubt she’ll demand to be present.
How will she feel about us if my father decides to punish them?
How will she feel about me?
“Leave it to Father to show off every chance he gets,” Oryx jokes as we descend the stairs to the dungeon. “He’s in full battle regalia and everything.”
I grunt in reply. “How else should he address them? Naked?”
“If we’re honest,” he says, snorting a laugh. “That would be more terrifying.”
We pass through both sets of protective doors before stepping into the cool air of the dungeon. My eyes immediately find the cell where the humans are being kept, and the muscles in my neck tighten. Considering Irissa has hardly left the dungeon since the men arrived, there’s a good chance she’s here now. My hands ball into fists at the thought, and I quicken my steps.
A lone guard stands across the hall from the cell, his eyes trained on the prisoners inside. We stop next to him, and he nods in our direction.
“Are you ready for them?” he asks.
Before I answer, my eyes slide over to the barred door. Peering between the columns of metal, I can easily make out four figures. The guards from Hyatt sit with their backs against the far wall. They’re still heavily bandaged, but they’re obviously in much better shape than they were when they arrived. Lizette is sitting in the left corner closest to the door, digging through a bag full of medical supplies, and Irissa sits across from her. Her hair is braided and pinned in a ball behind her head. She’s smiling at something one of the men said, but when she hears us, her eyes snap in my direction and the smile fades.
“Yes,” I say, dragging my gaze away as jealousy bubbles beneath my skin. “The king wants them in chains.”
The guard nods again and reaches for the set of keys on his belt. “With pleasure.”
After he unlocks the door, Irissa is the first person to step out of the cell. She’s wearing a simple beige dress, unlike anything I’ve ever seen her wear, and she moves off to the side as Lizette steps out. The prisoners comply with the guard’s orders, obediently turning around for him to place thick, metal cuffs on their wrists.
I’m not sure why I expected more of a fight from them, but it would have been stupid for them to argue.
Maybe that’s why I wished they’d be disobedient. I’m looking for any excuse to punch the red-headed one that Irissa seems so fond of. My eyes laser in on him as he steps out of the cell, and he bows respectfully. For some reason, even though it’s customary, the gesture infuriates me more than if he’d ignored me.
A low growl rumbles in my chest, and Oryx jabs me in the ribs to snap me out of it. I glare at him, but he hardly seems concerned. His eyes are locked on Lizette as she hugs both the guards around the neck.
“Good luck,” she tells them before turning to leave.
For an awkward moment, the six of us stand in the middle of the dungeon exchanging glances, and then I realize they’re waiting for orders.Myorders. Flustered, I jerk my head toward the exit.
“We’re going to the throne room,” I assure them. “Will you take the lead, Oryx?”
Without refute, he heads up the group, followed by the pair of prisoners. The Ulleh guard follows behind with a spear at their backs, ready and willing to skewer them both if they step out of line. Irissa and I fall into step at the back, and I drag my feet a little slower to lengthen the gap between us and the guard.
“What are you wearing?” I whisper, looking her up and down.
“It’s Lizette’s.” She keeps her gaze straight ahead when she answers. “I was tired of getting my dresses dirty on the floor.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be spending all your time in a cell,” I grunt. “It’s hardly appropriate.”
“I’m sorry,Your Highness,” she spits, still avoiding my gaze. “But you ordered them to stay in the dungeon.”
