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“My body… the release.” Her smile fades as she wipes her cheeks until they’re dry. “I think I’m letting out a lot of pent-up stuff.”
I understand. I really do. She reminds me of a bird with a wing that was clipped for so long, she’d forgotten she could fly. Maybe she never knew she could in the first place, and I just proved to her that she can.
She yawns, appearing so tired with her heavy eyelids.
“You need to rest.” I stand and start collecting my clothes.
After putting on my pants and boots, I don my gear.
Tucking the towel under her armpits, Ro gets up. Well, she tries to. Her knees give out, and I scoop her into my arms.
“I can walk, you know,” Ro claims.
“Are you sure?” I inquire seriously with an amused tone.
She shyly glances away. “Okay, maybe not. God, I’m so annoying. I swear, I’m not trying to be such a damsel.”
I hate it when she puts herself down, and I shift the blame—rightfully so—to myself. “It’s my fault for making your limbs into jelly. If I hadn’t been so gluttonous with your delicious pussy, you’d be able to use your legs just fine.”
She looks at me like she can’t believe I just said what I said. It’s so easy to get a reaction out of her, and I thoroughly enjoy her scandalized expression.
Opening the door, I leave the mess we made behind us, including her makeshift bra and the loincloth.
“What about my clothes?” Bending her head to the side, Ro searches for her discarded scraps.
“You’re not putting that garbage back on. There was food in the kitchen and the bathroom was stocked, so it’s logical to think there might be clothes in the castle. Where would we find outfits for you?”
“The fourth floor.”
The highest level. Of course we’re being led there.
Armand hasn’t forgotten us. There’s a reason he didn’t interrupt us in the bathroom.
We weren’t in the right spot.
If shit goes down on the ground, it’d be too easy for us to escape. At the top, however, there will be dozens of rooms and hallways separating us from the exit.
Despite knowing that, I don’t pause when I reach the servants’ stairs and start climbing. I persist, and I’m silent on the journey up.
When we make it to the final landing of the stairwell, there’s a fancy wooden door that leads out into the hallway of the fourth floor. Nudging it open with my elbow, I peek out.
I look left, then right.
At one end of the corridor, there’s a grand staircase leading down to the floor below. In the other direction, rows of doors line the long hall.
It’s quiet, and the silence is unnerving. You’d think we would hear something—the ticking of a clock or the wind outside.
Nothing.
Letting go of Ro, I let her feet touch down. I steady her by the shoulders, making sure she’s balanced before drawing my sword.
Positioning myself in front of her, I reach behind me and take her hand in mine. “Which room?”
She points to an open door near the end of the hall, diagonal from us. Bright sunlight shines out from it.
I move that way. Stealthily. Cautiously.
Scanning my surroundings, I study each door we pass, watching for movement. The air is different up here. Fresh and clean, like all royal spaces should be.
