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“I am Sophie, your maid. I apologize that the fire was not lit.” The words were quiet, but firm as if she were used to people listening to her.
“My maid?” Her voice was hollow. “I only want to go home, please help me.” Wren didn’t know why she thrust the words at her when this woman was likely ordered to confine her here and was in on the whole abduction. The thought left a wake of confusion in Wren’s mind as she tried to understand why anyone would abduct her in the first place.
“I’m sorry, my lady, you cannot leave this room.” She whispered the words as if she felt sympathy for Wren. “There are guards posted outside your door and I have been asked to prepare you for bed.” Sophie shifted uncomfortably, and it was clear that she also was unaccustomed to such an arrangement.
Wren’s lip trembled. “They killed her. They killed my best friend. She was trying to protect me and they killed her.”
Sophie’s cool exterior cracked under the words and her eyebrows turned down in unrestrained sympathy. As if she knew there were no words to heal the wound of loss, Sophie stepped forward and threw her arms around Wren. Instead of being confused as to why a strange woman would show her sympathy, Wren let herself fall into the hug. Let herself be comforted.
When the tears dried and her shoulders stopped shaking, Sophie led her to the small table where she magically produced tea. As soon as the tea was poured, Sophie took the seat across from her.
“I’m sorry for your loss. What has been done to you is monstrous. I wish I could make sense of it, but Be—” Sophie was cut off as the door slammed open and a cold voice shouted to the guards to leave immediately.
He wore the same black tunic as earlier, but his hair was less pristine, tousled to where it now started to fall across his eyes. She saw that his face was pale, but currently flushed as if he had run here. Wren doubted that to be the case since his breathing was slow and measured. In more light, she could see close trimmed facial hair.
It occurred to her the reason for the flushed cheeks likely had more to do with anger as she noticed his blue eyes blazing as if he could incinerate the whole room. She had the strange thought that maybe he could since it felt like the air had been stripped from the room.
The man took a noticeable breath and looked towards Sophie who nodded before standing and taking a seat on the chaise. Wren wanted to open her mouth to tell her not to go, to not leave her with this man, but nothing came out.
Feeling entirely alone, Wren folded her hands together, centering herself. Whoever this man was, he couldn’t take anything more from her.
Of all the things she could have imagined or expected, she could not have predicted that this man who seemed taller than any she had ever met would casually stroll over and take Sophie’s seat across from her. Silence stretched between them with only the cracking of the fire for distraction. His coat was made of fine material and it clung to him easily showing the hint of muscle.
“I do not know what you want me to say, Sophie.” He ground out, leaning back in his chair as if all of this were painfully tedious.
Sophie let out an audible sigh. “Wren Hayden, this is His Royal Highness, Prince Malaki Blackwood, who seems to have forgotten how to talk to other people.”
The words crashed over Wren like waves meeting the shore, violent and consuming. She had found herself in a precarious situation that had no precedent. Wren did not know which fact to try to tackle first—that a servant had just chastised a prince or that this ill-mannered man in front of her was royalty.
The words she fought for shrank inside her until she was painfully aware that her mouth was hanging wide open.
“You are a prince.” Wren repeated dumbly. Cara would have loved that. She would have been fawning over him before his name had even left Sophie’s mouth. The grief crawled within her, fresh with memory.
The prince took a small silver flask from his coat pocket and unscrewed it. There should be a limit on how many misfortunes one person could endure. He raised his glass to her and said, “Ah, thank you, my lady, I was quite in danger of forgetting my station.”
“Kai.” The word was said low and in warning from Sophie who turned from her new task of setting clothes on the bed.
“You are a terrible maid, Sophie,” he said dryly. “Well, this has been lovely, but I do think I will find entertainment elsewhere tonight.” He downed the contents of his cup and stood from the table.
“Sophie, Lady Wren, truly a pleasure.” His words were dull and devoid of sincerity. Just as quickly as he had come into the room, he was gone. Wren heard him call for the guards and say something that earned a laugh from them both.
Wren looked down at her cup, realizing she had never even touched the tea Sophie had poured. Movement next to her showed Sophie glaring at the door the prince had just exited through.
“I apologize, my lady, he is not normally this way. He has been drinking, and drink makes fools of us all.”
The statement didn’t seem to warrant a response which suited Wren just fine as she became aware of how heavy her body felt. Nothing made sense and it seemed she would get no answers tonight. “Sophie? I would like to sleep now.” Perhaps in sleep she would wake up and this would all be some terrible dream. She would wake up to the sounds of the farm and sunlight pouring in through her window. She would walk downstairs and have breakfast only to have Georgie come downstairs rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Sophie seemed about to say something and then thought better of it, nodding quietly.
Wren began walking towards the bed when Sophie stopped her and gestured to the night gown laying on the bed. Without another word, Sophie moved behind her and began undoing the straps on her dress and as it fell to the ground and began unlacing her corset.
Any modesty she had once harbored was gone, and she stood quietly while Sophie helped her into a wistful white nightgown. Wren wished the corset had been the reason for the tightness in her chest, but with it off, the tightness had not loosened.
Crawling into the bed, Wren laid her head on the pillow, not bothering to pull the covers over her. As she closed her eyes and let the exhaustion of the day take her, a single tear trickled down her cheek.
Chapter 4
Wrenawoketothesmell of bacon and for an instant her heart leapt knowing she was back home and her aunt had risen early and made breakfast. Opening her eyes, she took in the expansive room from last night and knew it was only false hope. Her eyes searched for the source of the smell and fell on the table across from the bed where she and the prince had had tea what seemed like days ago. The small table was laid full with an array of meat, eggs, and fresh fruit. Wren’s spirits lifted when her eyes landed on the steaming cup of tea at the edge of the table. The room was not nearly as cold as it had been the previous night, but the warm tea sang to her enough that she pulled the covers back, not remembering having put them on, and settled herself at the table. She pulled the steaming cup to her lips and blew softly, watching the steam shift from its upwards course. The door quietly opened and Sophie entered carrying a large green dress.
