Page 140
Meanwhile, the Bloodthirsty Prince had once again lived up to his name.
Prisca had looked utterly ridiculous, standing in that arena, dressed in servants’ clothes, her face pale, hands covered in blood. And yet the hybrids had knelt to her.
But what choice had they had? Zathrian had been bleeding out behind her.
The hybrid heir was proving herself to be little more than a savage—as I’d always known.
“This way, Your Majesty.”
I ignored the sneers as the guard led me to the latrine. My cheeks burned with fury as I took care of business like an animal, the guard standing several footspans away, gazing at the sky, his cheeks red.
If I had been born a man, with a man’s strength, I could have used the chain dangling from this heavy manacle to strangle him.
Instead, I delicately cleared my throat, allowed him to lead me to a station to wash my hands, and gazed up athim with wide eyes.
“Please…my legs are cramped. Would you be so kind as to escort me on a short walk?”
He hesitated, glancing around. After a long moment, he caught the other end of my chain, holding it in his hand.
Like. A. Leash.
“I suppose that would be okay,” he said with a decisive nod.
I imagined his head rolling free of his body.
“Thank you,” I cooed.
I let him choose the route, gazing up at him as if I had no true destination in mind and simply wanted to stretch my legs. “What is your name?”
“Previs, Your Majesty.”
“My name is Kaliera.”
His blush traveled from his neck up into his cheeks. I glanced around. “This camp seems well organized.”
“It is.” He didn’t say anything else, his gaze constantly scanning for higher-ranking soldiers. It was clear I wouldn’t be getting any further information out of him until later.
But something far more important had caught my eye.
Several rows of tents to our left stood one of the fae…Galon.
He said a few words to a hybrid soldier, who gazed up at him like a dog hoping for a treat from its owner.
The hybrid soldier nodded, replying with a few words of his own. And as Galon stalked away, the hybrid soldier stayed posted outside the tent, his hand on his sword.
I ducked my head as Galon disappeared.
My mind was racing as Previs led me back to my tent, again chaining me to the thick, fae-iron pole shoved deep into the earth.
This wasn’t over yet.
I simply needed to talk to Zathrian.
MADINIA
It had been two days. I only knew this because our cell was close to the main, locked door. And each time the guards brought our meals, I could catch a single glimpse of freedom when they opened that door.
So far, they weren’t attempting to confuse us by giving us meals at strange times.
Prisca had looked utterly ridiculous, standing in that arena, dressed in servants’ clothes, her face pale, hands covered in blood. And yet the hybrids had knelt to her.
But what choice had they had? Zathrian had been bleeding out behind her.
The hybrid heir was proving herself to be little more than a savage—as I’d always known.
“This way, Your Majesty.”
I ignored the sneers as the guard led me to the latrine. My cheeks burned with fury as I took care of business like an animal, the guard standing several footspans away, gazing at the sky, his cheeks red.
If I had been born a man, with a man’s strength, I could have used the chain dangling from this heavy manacle to strangle him.
Instead, I delicately cleared my throat, allowed him to lead me to a station to wash my hands, and gazed up athim with wide eyes.
“Please…my legs are cramped. Would you be so kind as to escort me on a short walk?”
He hesitated, glancing around. After a long moment, he caught the other end of my chain, holding it in his hand.
Like. A. Leash.
“I suppose that would be okay,” he said with a decisive nod.
I imagined his head rolling free of his body.
“Thank you,” I cooed.
I let him choose the route, gazing up at him as if I had no true destination in mind and simply wanted to stretch my legs. “What is your name?”
“Previs, Your Majesty.”
“My name is Kaliera.”
His blush traveled from his neck up into his cheeks. I glanced around. “This camp seems well organized.”
“It is.” He didn’t say anything else, his gaze constantly scanning for higher-ranking soldiers. It was clear I wouldn’t be getting any further information out of him until later.
But something far more important had caught my eye.
Several rows of tents to our left stood one of the fae…Galon.
He said a few words to a hybrid soldier, who gazed up at him like a dog hoping for a treat from its owner.
The hybrid soldier nodded, replying with a few words of his own. And as Galon stalked away, the hybrid soldier stayed posted outside the tent, his hand on his sword.
I ducked my head as Galon disappeared.
My mind was racing as Previs led me back to my tent, again chaining me to the thick, fae-iron pole shoved deep into the earth.
This wasn’t over yet.
I simply needed to talk to Zathrian.
MADINIA
It had been two days. I only knew this because our cell was close to the main, locked door. And each time the guards brought our meals, I could catch a single glimpse of freedom when they opened that door.
So far, they weren’t attempting to confuse us by giving us meals at strange times.
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