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At least there would be plenty of room for Draven... If he actually dared to come back. I had to hope he was joking. Had to.
Because if he thought I’d hold back from attacking him in his sleep, he had another thing coming.
I had been restrained when I had been on the mission to find Excalibur. I’dhadto be. I needed him.
But now? I was seething and he was the closest thing to a punching bag I had.
The far wall near the door was covered with a long row of tall, golden-edged mirrors. I prowled towards them, suddenly nervous to see my own reflection.
Just how long had I been in that bed for? I had assumed a day or two. But had it been longer?
An image of a pale girl draped in a thin gossamer shift came into view and my breath hitched in my throat. Everything that had once been so familiar was gone. Or that was how it felt. The girl looking back at me seemed like a stranger. Her frame was so delicate.
I touched my fingers to my arms, tracing the intricate markings that were imprinted there in glowing silver. They cast a silvery radiance upon my gold-tinged skin.
My hair was a mess of knots. But at least it was somewhat familiar. No longer crone-gray, it was a distinctive silver shade that reminded me a little of Orcades' purple and silver tresses. The strands of liquid metal luster mirrored the glow of the markings on my arms.
I stepped away from the mirror and walked to the nearest door, the one by the balcony and pushed it open.
A sitting room beckoned, replete with plush velvet armchairs and chaise lounges, upholstered in deep emerald and plum tones. The furniture was arranged in an inviting ring around an enormous stone hearth, where a fire crackled invitingly. Dark wood bookshelves lined the walls, filled with beautiful leatherbound tomes. I caught sight of gilded lettering on the spines in numerous languages, not all ones I recognized. A gleaming mahogany desk stood in a nook beneath a row of stained-glass windows that overlooked the volcanic spectacle outside. Quills, inkwells, and thick paper and scrolls covered its surface in an orderly arrangement.
On the far wall in roughly the same position as the last one was another door. I crossed over and stepped into a marble-floored foyer with a soaring ceiling, topped by another exquisite crystal chandelier. Three doors led off the chamber.
I pushed against the first one, but it wouldn't budge. Frowning, I tried again. Nothing.
It must lead out into the main hallway, I concluded, and thus be locked like the one in the bedchamber. At least, for me, anyway. Draven had appeared to have no trouble passing through the wards.
I tried the next door and discovered a bathing chamber fit for Zorya herself. A huge marble tub with gold faucets sat below a beautiful picture window overlooking the fiery landscape. The walls were tiled in vibrant shades of green and blue, with gold gilding between each one. A vanity cabinet covered with a spread of perfumed oils, toiletries, and scented candles rested nearby. I caught a whiff of a familiar scent.
Sandalwood. Draven's trademark.
I closed the door firmly and went on to the next one.
A spacious dining area lay inside, featuring a large polished table inlaid with mother-of-pearl and trimmed with gold filigree. Delicate porcelain dishware decorated in intricate patterns rested upon a silk table runner, accompanied by crystal goblets and gold eating instruments.
On the opposite wall behind the table lay another door. Noises were coming from beyond it.
My heart thumped. I had assumed I was alone in the suite.
There was a clattering sound and then a bang, as if someone had dropped a hot pan.
Curiously, I pushed the door open a few inches and peered inside.
Gleaming copper pots and pans hung along a brick wall over a large cooking area. Reams of dried herbs, fruits, and spices hung from the ceiling on vines of twine, filling the kitchen with color and fragrance. The scent of cooking food infused the air, tantalizing my starving stomach and drawing out a low rumble.
The clattering sound of metal on metal came again and my eyes darted to the far side of the room... where a huge brown bear stood, hunched over a counter, tearing something to shreds.
I gulped. The bear was covered in thick, coarse fur and stood taller than Draven by at least another head.
As I watched, it took another swipe at whatever was on the counter. I started to slowly close the door, preparing to run through the dining room, back to the bedroom... and then what? I hadn’t been left with any weapons as far as I could remember. I gnashed my teeth in frustration. What sort of a fae court had a bear in one of the kitchens? Or was this Draven's idea of a joke?
Or worse... Had one of his friends, perhaps his lovely sister-in-law, put the bear in here, hoping for a worst-case scenario?
Now a clunking noise was coming from the counter. The bear let out a low growl and made another swiping motion with its paw.
I froze. The bear's paw was holding a large knife, chopping with impressive dexterity.
In my shock, I must have let go of the door and it slammed shut with a squeak of the hinges and a bang, smacking me in the face. I let out a yelp of pain, clutching my hand to my face.
