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He points a finger at my feet. He means the stone floor I’m standing on. It’s hard and cold, not a place for civil company.
So this is what the duke thinks of me. A beggar, no better than a whore. I should sit at his feet like a dog.
What else can I do, though? I sink to my knees and shudder as they connect with the stone. My body trembles with humiliation. Even compared to the things that have been done to me by his kind, I’ve never felt this low in my life.
“Have you word from my mother?”
“I have,” he says.
Duke Carmichael’s words are as deliberate and calculated as his actions. Usually I’m good at reading people, but everything about him is locked behind a 12-foot-tall steel gate.
“And they are well?”
He stares me down. “As well as can be expected.”
What is that supposed to mean? His aloofness throws me off kilter. He may be charismatic in front of his people, but to me he is cold to the point of being cruel.
My body still trembles from the stress and fear. He could end my life with one word to his guards or a swipe of his sword. What is stopping him from cutting me down right now?
I have to believe he can see what I am worth. I promised Mama I would not end up like her, but here I am. If I have to plead for my life, I will. If I have to give myself to him, I will do that too.
It is not just me. Mama and James’s lives are in Duke Carmichael’s hands. Just like his entourage of elves, he has complete power over them. Their deaths would mean nothing to him.
“You look nothing like your mother.”
I tilt my head at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Your mother,” he says, slowly, as though I’m an idiot.
I don’t know how to respond.
“Thank you.”
Duke Carmichael continues, “I considered bringing her into the castle. For entertainment, obviously. My troops need to be entertained.”
I can’t help but be enraged by his cold tone. He’s talking about my mother like she’s an object instead of a whole person. What can I do about it? He has me prisoner. I’m nothing to him.
“I considered bringing your brother in as well. A boy needs a strong hand to raise him right. He is not getting that from anyone else. Clearly.”
What is that supposed to mean?
“My brother is fine,” I snap, against my better judgment. “My mother is the best parent in the world.”
The duke rolls his eyes. It’s the most human gesture I’ve seen from him.
“A whore is good for nothing. Trust me, I’ve met plenty.”
“Maybe because you—”
The look he shoots me shuts me up. “What did you say?”
“Nothing, my lord.” I hang my head in shame. If he sees how meek I am, hopefully he won’t punish me.
“I could have your mother’s head delivered to you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s more of a gasp or a prayer.
“Do you understand? I could kill everyone you’ve ever loved. Everyone you’ve ever known.” His voice trembles with barely-suppressed rage.
