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“Oh, of course.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I realize that I’ve probably just offended him. Again. Sighing quietly, I try my best to push the feeling aside. It shouldn’t matter much, not when I’ll only be here for a few weeks before trading my life for Father’s.
Turning, he leads me up a sweeping staircase and down another hall.
The longer we walk, the more I wonder if he means to tuck me away, locked in some room until our deal is complete. This thought has my stomach sinking with disappointment.
I steal one more glance up at him, taking in the stiffness of his shoulders and the determination of his step.
He's dressed in all black, not an inch of his skin visible beneath the drape of the fabric, though it's impossible to deny the impressiveness of his form.
And then, there's the mask. It was obviously once the skull of some poor animal, but not one of any creature that I've ever seen.
What is he hiding beneath it?
Perhaps he's not a man at all, but a monster.
Not that it matters if he is. All that matters is that he is the one known as The Bargainer and that he keeps his side of the deal.
As far as I know, he's made of shadows, and I wouldn't be entirely surprised to learn there is no face beneath the mask. This thought has my brow knitting together, my imagination only growing wilder the more I try to quell it.
"This will be your room," he says, his voice startling me as it cuts through my thoughts and I nearly run straight into him.
Blinking, I realize that I was so distracted by my imagination that I hadn't noticed his steps slowing. Taking a nervous step back, I lean around him to look into the simple bed chamber beyond.
Like the rest of the palace, it's dark and cold; however, it isn't completely bare. Floor to ceiling curtains cover what I can only guess are windows on the far side of the room.
There's a large bed on one side of the room, as well as a lounge, wardrobe, and small table. Each piece is made of the same black material, all beautifully crafted. but missing a sense of, well, life.
An uncontrollable shiver races down my spine, and I quickly wrap my arms around myself in an effort to fight it off, but he's already noticed.
Without a word, he steps into the room, and I watch as he moves toward the fireplace.
He crouches, and I realize he means to light a fire for me. I step forward to assure him that I am no stranger to the task, but before I can even open my mouth, a fire is already roaring to life.
He flinches, stepping back from it as if burned by its heat.
"Thank you," I say, moving into the room, letting my eyes wander over everything before return to him.
He simply watches me, and my cheeks flush with heat under his gaze. We say nothing to each other, and I shift nervously on my feet, curious if I should say something else. I'm not used to being a guest in someone else's house.
Captive or not.
Am I supposed to ask him for something? It seems rude, though I could certainly do with a bath and a fresh set of clothing.
Before I can decide whether or not to ask him for these things, he suddenly clears his throat.
"I will see you in the morning for breakfast," he says, nodding his head once before pivoting toward the door.
He's gone before I have a chance to respond, the door closing softly behind him as the last of his shadows slip beneath it.
I stare after him for a long moment before moving closer to the fire. Just like the one downstairs, the heat is subdued, but enough to fight off the chill that presses in around me.
I wonder what breakfast will be like in a place like this. My stomach growls at the thought, and I find myself comforted by my imagination as I picture all the possibilities.
Turning my back to the fire, I take a look around the room again before walking over to the heavy curtains and pulling one back. I'm greeted by a massive window as well as a rush of even icier air. I endure it long enough to peer out into the swirling mists beyond, but it's too dark to see whether we're still in the forest or somewhere else entirely.
Drawing the curtain again, I stifle a yawn as I turn my attention toward the bed. Slipping off my mud-caked shoes, I strip down to my underthings before pausing. The bottom hem of my chemise is muddied from my wandering, but I have nothing else to change into ... and in a strange place like this, I'd rather not get caught unawares and naked.
