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That was what it was—a cage.
“Apologies, Princess,” he said softly. “They’re not on their best behavior.”
“I doubt it upsets you all that much.”
Larsson looked at the cobbles for a moment before he said, “I understand why my king must do what he has done, but whether you believe it or not, there are some of us who want peace. Not hatred.”
Stun ate my words. I accepted Larsson’s hand and stepped into the back of the cage. He locked the bars and gave me a final smile before striding away.
He’d been gone mere moments before folk pounded on the bars, before more spittle flew at my face. Angry words, threats, and curses were flung my way. More than one pebble, even a rotted pome splattered cloying juices on my cheeks after it struck one of the bars.
The people laughed, encouraging more, until silence, thick as death, fell over them.
I wiped the juices from my eyes as the back bars clanged open and a firm hand gripped my arm.
“Get out, love.” Erik glared at me like he might throw me to his ravenous people.
Don’t break. I gritted my teeth. “Plan to make me walk through all this, Bloodsinger? See if I arrive at my prison in one piece?”
“Your ability to conjure such brutal scenarios is, quite possibly, my favorite thing about you, but you won’t be doing any of it. You’ll be in the royal coach.”
“Why?”
A wickedness, dark and a little mad, lived in his gaze. He used a thumb to wipe some of the sour juice off my cheek. “Because you are mine.”
CHAPTER28
The Songbird
Erik kept satin curtains drawn over the coach windows. I was glad for it. The less I had to see the hatred in the eyes of his people, the easier I breathed.
“You’ll be taken to my chambers first,” he said, tipping back one of the curtains and watching the procession for a moment. Bloodsinger slumped back on the padded bench and turned his attention back to me. “You’re not to go anywhere else. Understood?”
“The king’s chambers? Not a dungeon?”
“They’re rather damp. I think you’ll prefer the chambers.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
“So everyone knows I’m your whore?”
Erik leaned over his knees. “Is that what you want, love?”
“Never yours. But perhaps you should ask Larsson if he’d be interested in taking me. He’s rather handsome and doesn’t make me think I’m going to die every moment I turn around.”
Erik studied me for a long pause. Enough I could not puzzle if he battled with the thought of cutting out my tongue or . . . something else.
“Feel better getting that out?” he asked and propped an elbow on the window’s ledge, a fist against his cheek. “I am preparing to claim you as mine, so you should know that will be the last time another man’s name is on your tongue.”
“I might be yourproperty, but you do not control what words come from my mouth.”
Bloodsinger chuckled. “We’ll see.”
I stared at the curtains, refusing to look at him. The coach tilted up the hillside. Tension blistered like my skin might split open at every bend in the road.
Only once we reached the doors of the palace did Erik speak. “You will be untouched in my rooms. They are well guarded.”
The door on the coach swung open, and Erik left me with a scathing look before he stepped outside.
All at once the coach became my haven. The moment I abandoned it, I would be isolated and forgotten from a world that didn’t even know me apart from being the daughter of an enemy king.
