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I'm alive. The others are alive. That much, I expected, but the rest is wild.
We're not getting questioned or tortured. Why? Maybe Alrion’s information was enough for the king. Still, I know that in Allea, we would have been interrogated anyway, just on the off chance any of us might have something to add. What’s Doryn’s angle?
Then, there’s the fact that the others were given jobs that they might actually be good at. They’re little more than indentured servants, but they'll likely enjoy their assignments. Infirmary, stables, library? These aren’t the types of positions given to prisoners. Why aren’t they digging in mines or laying bricks in the snow?
As for my fate, I'm not shocked. The king fucked me hard right after I tried to kill him. He enjoyed punishing me that way. I knew he'd do it again, given half a chance. The one thing I didn't see coming was that he’d declare it to the world, branding me as a whore publicly. No nobleman would have done so back home. They'd make me a maid and force me to warm their bed in secret. But we're in Nyxar, and apparently no one find it outrageous for a king to have a lady of pleasure.
I spare a thought for my dead mother. She would have been proud. She had no issue with women being used, so long as there was a profit in it for someone. She'd consider being fucked by a king a considerable advancement in life, and she’d encourage me to make the best of it, demanding jewels and gold.
I am taken through halls, past doorways and corridors, until we reach a grand, richly appointed chamber, with thick blue velvet curtains, pillar candles already lit on each surface, and a large bed with deep vermillion sheets.
A vaulted doorway leads to a grand balcony with a magnificent view of the starry sky, and beyond, the dark city of spires, spread out at the grand castle's feet, then the thick forest surrounding it.All thoughts of escape seem pretty hopeless, looking at the vast expense before me.
It is beautiful, captivating, and depressing. Dejected, I turned away from the landscape.
I've never seen a room as luxurious as this. If I were alone, I’d leap into the bed because it looks so exquisitely comfortable. But the guard who escorted me here doesn’t seem to be leaving. There also are two footmen standing at the door, as tall, proud, and immobile as statues, ready to serve.
"It’s the king's bedroom," I guess.
No one else would be housed in such ostentatious quarters.
My guard shakes his head. "The king sleeps across the hall. This was designed as the queen’s chambers—though we haven’t had one since this castle was built by the king’s grandfather. Only the occasional consort, and plenty of lovers.” There’s no judgement in his tone. “It’s yours for the time being. This is Mir, your maid.”
I hadn't even noticed anyone else in the room, but once he mentions her, a woman appears by a large arched doorway. She’s barely taller than a toddler, with diaphanous wings—two sets, batting at great speed, like a dragonfly's—right behind her back.I blink, startled by her sudden appearance as well as her form.
"Hi," I say with a wave, doing my best to conceal my startlement.
I've never seen a creature such as she. She floats a few inches off the floor, which surprises me so much I don’t even notice her outfit for a full minute. Mir’s wearing a dress. In fact, she’s covered almost from head to toes. That said, the pale pink fabric of her entire outfit is so thin, I miss practically none of what’s underneath: small breasts, each nipple adorned by a circular bangle, and toned, slim limbs. She’s not wearing any underwear at all.
My attempts to stay composed don't fool her.“Well, sweep your jaw off the floor, girl. They call my kind pixies," she says. "We come from the hills, well before your kind arrived on Xhera, you know."
She sounds defensive about her nature, when her clothing is as much of a shock as everything else.
"I've never come across someone like you," I confess. "Occasionally in stories. I thought they were just tales.” Guessing I’m making things worse, I clear my throat, and simply say, “Your wings are beautiful."
It is true, and I don't think making an enemy of servants is ever wise, here most of all. I’m already surrounded by enough foes.
The creature smiles, satisfied. "Well, we stay in the north. The so-called land of light is not exactly accepting of what's different. Come, beautiful one. I am to bathe you, then you’re to rest, and dress."
I obey, not pointing out the fact that I am already dressed. I'm definitely eager for a bath, after every way my skin was soiled last night.
She leads me to a wet room with a pool big enough to swim in.
“We were told to heat it right up, so it might be a little too warm,” the maid warns me.
I test it with my hand first, and sure enough, it’s scorching hot, partially because this entire castle is ridiculously cold. Too enthusiastic to wait, I shed my clothing as fast as I can and readily sink into the water, enjoying the burn on my skin. I was never very sensitive to heat.
After the last day, a bath, and in such opulent surroundings, feels like a literal dream. I’m not dead, I am not suffering. Instead, I’m clean, about to be dressed and locked away like a porcelain doll.
And soon enough, my owner will play with me.
I should find the very thought revolting, disgusting, or at the very least, terrifying. My skin should be crawling. I ought to think of nothing but escaping this place. And under other circumstances, I would. But I’ve had a taste of what he’ll do to me, and I know I can take it.
That’s not even accurate. I know he’ll make meenjoyit. If anything, that’s what scares me. Not his touch, not the wicked things he’s hinted at, but the fact that my insides clench and heat at the thought of what awaits me in this new, demeaning, depraved role of mine. I am a king’s toy today, and soon, I’ll be his assassin.
As for fleeing, it’s out of the question. Even if I could find my way out somehow, I wouldn’t take the chance. Doryn was clever to separate us, and make it clear that defiance would see all of us punished. Any plan to break free would have to involveallof us.
17
