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“Let me,” the old woman says. “I’m used to hard work.”
I lift the other side without a word. I need to get used to hard work, too. My life here is over. The trunk is big, hopefully big enough to fit Adar, and heavy although it only contains a bundle of blankets and some clothes, including a long male shirt and a cloak for Adar.
“We’ll get footmen to carry it for us to the dungeons,” I say and the moment we get out of my room, I call for two footmen to come help. We follow them to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, looking over our shoulder the entire way. The people walking through the palace give the trunk glancing looks, not asking what we’re doing.
Just as well.
My stomach is a twisting knot, my face alternating between hot and cold. Sweat is rolling down my back. I’m breathing so hard I’m dizzy.
And then we’re going down the spiral stairs. When the heavy door to the dungeons opens, the stench of excrement and mold makes me gag.
Swallowing down bile, I squeeze my way down, to the front of our little group, and inform the guards that this is for the game that Prince Willam has told them about.
At first, they look at each other and my heart drops to my feet. Hasn’t he told them? Did he forget? Did he change his mind? Did they?
But they nod and wave us in. “Want to see the glory of our dungeons, young princesses? Not the most pleasant of places.”
“We want you to unlock a cell for us,” I say as we step inside, the footmen following with the trunk. “Prince Willam must have told you.”
“Sure, yeah. Only these are dangerous criminals, Your Highness,” the guard says with a shrug. “They may attack you. I’m coming into the cell with you.”
“No need. Rules of the game. We go in alone. You can go back to your little room”—I gesture at the room at the far end of the passage—“to play cards and dice.”
“But—”
“I order you to,” I say more loudly. No matter what I said to Prince Alfred, my word does have some weight, at least inside the palace. I am a royal princess, after all.
And the guard bows. “As you wish, Highness.”
If he’s suspicious of this strange request, he doesn’t show it. He follows us as we peruse the cells. They are stone-built, their doors made up of steel bars. Inside, the prisoners are curled in their corners, asleep or dead for all we know. The floor is bare stone, and I can feel how cold it is through the leather soles of my new bottines.
We pass cell after cell, and my stomach knots up more as I see human after human body. Where is he? Gods, where is he?
“Lily,” I whisper when we reach the end of the row. “He’s not here.”
“How is that possible?” she whispers back.
“Are you by any chance looking for the monster they brought in today?” the guard says, looking smug. “The merman?”
“Yes.” A hand pressed to my chest to contain my wildly beating heart, I wait for him to go on. “Isn’t he here?”
“Oh, he’s here.” He gestures at the little room. “He wasn’t officially assigned any cell.”
I make myself not run there but walk, every step an impact I feel in my bones, every step bringing me closer to him. “Why not?”
“Prince Iason brought him in unexpectedly and just left him here. Do you know him?”
“He’s my fiancé,” I say absently.
“I meant the merman, my lady.”
And that was what I had meant, too. I don’t reply, walking faster, my steps echoing. The small room is dirty, a rickety table and four stools in its center, and in the corner…
“Adar.” His name spills from my lips before I can help it. He’s sprawled there, his long tail still caught inside the net, his torso crisscrossed with fresh wounds, his blue hair a tangled mess on the floor. His face is slack, eyes closed.
“Here he is, Highness,” the guard says.
“You haven’t chained him,” I whisper as I approach, my knees knocking together.
