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Chapter5
My legs shook uncontrollably while I weighed my options on fleeing.
An unexpected breeze chilled my body and the dampness in the hallway swallowed me whole. The goose bumps prickling my flesh only drove home the problems stacking up against me at every turn.
Captain Coltrain had ordered me to the benches in the hallway, slightly farther down from the offices. He told me to stay put, something about getting lost beneath the castle. And then, with a bow and a muttered “good luck” he was gone. Not something that made me feel confident in the promise of safety he’d alluded to at all.
I rubbed my arms and stared into the flickering flames on the torch across the hall. Wherever I was, electricity was scarce. Between the chain mail, swords, quills, and dirt roads ridden along via wagon, I’d almost believe I’d jumped back in time. Backward would certainly be one word to describe this place. Besides the semi-upgraded fountain pen Georgette used compared to the quills at the gate, there was not even a whisper of modern society here.
Footsteps echoed around me and I looked toward the offices I’d come from. The echoing grew louder and louder and I shifted in anticipation. Around the corner came a tall, thin woman dressed in all black. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, much like Georgette’s had been, and she stared down at me over a hooked nose.
“Ms. Fray, is it?” Her nasally voice reverberated off the walls as she spoke much too loudly for a situation that only involved two people in a quiet hall.
Nodding made me realize how stiff my neck was. The tension from the day was taking over as the pure adrenaline I’d been surviving off of wore thin while sitting here. While I knew the day was far from over at this point, since I had no idea where I’d end up in all of this, the energy source I’d been pulling from was severely depleted.
The woman took another step toward me. “My name is Maelina Traspbury. I run the feeder schedule.” She moved her head along with her eyes, raking over me as she took me in.
“Okay.” I sat, watching her, waiting for direction. It wasn’t like me, but it seemed my mouth wasn’t working to ask the question I really needed to know, like what a feeder was.
Ms. Trapsbury turned away from me, taking long strides and continuing down the hall before she stopped. She looked over her shoulder. “Well, don’t just sit there,” she said. “Come along.”
I rose, jogging over to where she stood. Falling in line with Ms. Trapsbury, we walked farther into the castle. As we moved away from the offices, a stairwell at the end of the long hall came into view.
Ms. Trapsbury ascended and finally spoke again. “Traveling the palace on your own is off limits for your first few weeks here. You’ll be on probation and therefore only allowed to visit where your host goes. As you’re with him, pay attention. You’ll get a better layout mapped in your head of everything by actually walking the corridors.”
“Um…” I started to gather my thoughts to ask questions, but Ms. Trapsbury simply continued talking over my meek interruption.
Damn this day.
“You are to remain silent unless you are spoken to. You are to do everything your host asks of you. And I do mean everything. That’s a rule for all feeders, but for you especially.”
“Why me especially?” I managed to quickly spit out the words, halting Ms. Trapsbury at the top of the stairwell.
“Because you’re the feeder to the future king. Instead of being dismissed, you could be killed.”
I froze, wide-eyed. How was I ever going to get out of this complete and utter mess? I didn’t even mean to be here in the first place. Stupid free-spirited bounding across the fountain wall.
Who would have thought it led to this freakish place?
Ms. Trapsbury had gone quiet after her dismal death warning.
I took in each hallway we proceeded through. Some had doors, some had paintings. Some were empty and seemed more like a creepy nightmare than a palace. I wondered if there were any light and airy places here. Perhaps somewhere that didn’t have me feeling like a rat scurrying through an underground lair. Was the prince some kind of evil prince? Was he good? Bad? Did it even work like that?
My head spun.
One more turn and suddenly, the damp walls and cold of the stone ceased. The tapestries were fuller, richer. The doors looked like actual doors and not wooden barricades.
Finally, Ms. Trapsbury slowed. She paused outside of a pretty bronze door and pushed it open.
“This is your room,” she said as we walked through the entrance.
My jaw practically hit the floor at the sheer size of the room I’d entered. There was a queen-sized four-poster bed with beautiful sheer white drapes pulled around each poster. The blanket looked luxurious, fluffed up and cascading down the sides.
There were all sorts of small furnishings, chairs with cozy ottomans, a vanity, a desk. All the furnishings were white or a beautiful light tan color. Everything in the room was neutral, the taste elegant and refined.
I didn’t think I could move from the spot I was in. At the moment, despite the fears of why I was here and what I’d be doing in my feeder role, I didn’t want to leave this room. Ever.
“You’re very lucky. Royal feeders get their own chambers, so you won’t be sharing space with anyone else.” Ms. Trapsbury walked toward a set of cream-colored double doors with golden accents and pushed them open. “This is your private bathroom. It’s small but should suffice.”
