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Jossalyn has left a sleeping shift hanging from a hook on the closet door, but I ignore it and paw through the closet until I find what’s probably riding attire, but is definitely more comfortable than a gown: soft calfskin pants, a knit pullover, and a pair of boots.
Once I’m redressed, I throw open the door again.
Rocco is standing there, and his eyebrows lift as he takes in my attire.
“I don’t have to stay in my room?” I say.
“No.” He pauses. “I can send for a meal if you would rather—”
“No. Thank you.” I have to clear my throat. “I’m not hungry. I want . . .” My voice trails off as I stare up at him. I might not be a prisoner, but he’s still the king’s guard. “Can you take me somewhere?” I say quietly. “Like . . . ?outside the palace?”
He frowns, which makes me think he’s going to decline, but he says, “Where?”
I take a deep breath. “I want you to take me to Prince Corrick.”
