AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Twice,” I correct her before I can stop myself. She stiffens, and I should probably take that as a signal to cease talking, but I don’t. “I’m not sure what you expected after keeping me tied up for so long. But who am I kidding? You’re high fae. Tell me, how often do you have to pee? Probably once a month at most.”
The shoulders of the hooded males shake slightly, the sight of which grants a smirk to my cracked lips.
At least someone here thinks I’m funny.
The female, clearly, does not. But she plasters a vindictive smile upon her stony face all the same. “My apologies. I’ll be sure to have Farin clean you up when he’s done with you.”
The male to the female’s right stiffens, and so do my insides.
Farin has yet to reveal his face, but if he’s fae like I assume, he’s probably the kind of attractive that’s almost always a positive thing, except for when you need your bottom wiped.
I also don’t like the sound of “when he’s done with you.”
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” I say, eager to turn the conversation in any other conceivable direction.
Lantern light flickers in the female’s icy blue eyes. “How inconsiderate of me. And to a guest, of all people. I am Queen Abra of Mystral.”
My stomach drops. I knew her ruby bracelet looked familiar. Because it’s not a ruby at all. It’s a magical pendant that holds the poison she used to murder her husband, the King of Mystral.
Allegedly.
Though the fact that she keeps her torture dungeon in good use lends credence to that particular rumor.
“I’m no lawyer, but I’m pretty sure bribing a foreign kingdom’s jailer and purchasing one of their prisoners is considered an act of war.”
Queen Abra just smiles, and that’s all the answer I need. Her identity isn’t the only thing that inspires dread. That she’s been open about her identity can only mean one thing.
She doesn’t intend for me to make it out of this dungeon alive to tell anyone.
Yep. Really hoping Evander has my jailer tied to a table with a poker at his eye right about now.
“I take it my little friend hasn’t been cooperative,” I say. The shot lands, and for half a moment, the queen looks taken aback. Like she thought she’d waltz into the dungeons and explain my situation to me.
But for the blip when her confidence falters, it returns with full-force. “No, she hasn’t,” she says, her lips curving in derision.
She approaches the dais on which I’m currently splayed and, Fates, she’s going to touch me, isn’t she?
The queen brushes a fingernail against my cheek, and I don’t bother to fight back a shudder at her frigid touch. “You know they have healers who specialize in decreased circulation, right?” I say.
That earns a sneer, as well as a slap across the mouth.
Like I’m a child.
I want to ask what happened the night the queen stole me away from Evander’s prison. What the psychotic magic that takes over my body once every full moon did while I was locked away somewhere in the dark corners of my own mind.
But for all I know, the queen doesn’t know yet that I don’t remember anything that happens when it takes over, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“You won’t like it down here, you know,” she says, almost crooning, like she’s trying to convince a naughty child why it would be to its benefit to behave.
“I don’t know. I think it’s rather cozy once you get used to the smell and befriend the rats.”
The queen ignores me. “I can already tell you’re destined for more. You won’t be content here, unable to move. But with me…” She tucks my matted hair behind my ear and I have to fist my palms to keep from cringing. “You wouldn’t have to be helpless anymore. Imagine what we could do together.”
Oh, right. She’s not talking to me.
She’s talking toit.
It’s sort of bad manners, for a queen.
