Page 10 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 10

M y hands fidgeted at the vanity while Adalie’s hands brushed my hair gently. The reflection staring back at me was unrecognizable. Nothing like the woman who had been taken just weeks before. Instead, something lifeless, something more similar to the monsters that stalked the court I was captive in, met my eyes.

The auburn hair I adored appeared a muted brown, the life and rich reds gone along with the fire in my heart. And my eyes… Usually brilliantly blue were a pale, and an almost opaque, greying color.

“Your highness,” Adalie whispered.

I met her eyes in the mirror and smiled.

Gods she was young, but she’d been kind since she’d entered my room an hour before. Bringing me gowns from my trunks and offering to help me pick the ones that wouldn’t bother my healing wounds.

“Yes?” I replied.

“He’s expecting you.”

I blinked before nodding and returning my eyes back to my reflection.

The two days had gone by in a flash. Ripped from me far too quickly and now I was being readied as a presentation for the tyrant.

Thankfully, he’d left me alone as he’d promised. Not entering my bed. Not pestering me.

No, it had been two days of blissful silence. Minus having had Olen’s irritating presence the entire time.

When the sun had begun to set and the red of the moon had brightened my small room, Olen finally excused himself, leaving me only for only a few moments before Adalie entered the room.

I squared my shoulders, choosing to finally present myself as the trained princess I was.

Adalie stepped back when I stood quickly and walked out of the bathing room, right to the door leading out to the palace. Before I gripped the handle, I turned back to the young girl.

“What is the name of your city?” I asked.

She stared back at me, her face blank. “Muspell, your highness,” she muttered.

“After the fire God?”

Adalie offered me a knowing smile before jumping back when the door before me slammed open.

“Gods!” I yelled out, stepping back to find Olen grinning at me.

“I’ve said it before,” his eyes scanned me, “but you clean up very nicely.”

“Uncle!” Adalie yelled behind me.

I turned on my heel, eyes widening at the word.

“Uncle?” I exclaimed.

Olen laughed, moving me to the side gently before sauntering into the room.

“Adie, you’ve blown our cover.”

My eyes watered with tears of betrayal. I’d thought—hoped—Adalie would become a safe person to lean on and learn to trust. Between hers and Frode’s kindness, my heart had come to believe I would have friends on this island. Now? Now, my heart was building its cage back up, determined to keep out anyone I came to meet.

Adalie’s head shook. “Don’t listen to him. Please, your highness.” Her plea sounded genuine, but I couldn’t be sure. The girl continued, shooting a warning glare at her uncle. “There was no cover. No intended betrayal.”

“If you’re the niece of the king’s right hand, why do you work as a handmaiden?” I replied.

“Because my uncle is my guardian, and he believes I must learn from the experience of manual labor ,” Adalie responded, her eyes rolling.

I bit my lip at the snark of her adolescence, turning my eyes back to Olen.

The man only gave me a wide grin while the gold earrings in his right ear rang with the shaking of his head.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he said, pulling his hands from his back.

I groaned, catching the gold of the mask in his hands.

“Again?”

Olen nodded. “The more you fight it, the worse it’ll be.”

I stepped back into the bathing room, eyeing the dark blue gown Adalie had helped me pick. Annoyingly, the gold suited it perfectly.

I returned to the bedroom and ripped the mask from Olen’s hand, finding him with his own black mask situated on his face. His hands moved to help, but I held up my palm.

“I’m capable of placing a mask on myself.”

I tied it against my head tightly, then turned on my heel again, right out the open bedroom door. Olen let out a startled sound behind me and the sound of his brisk stride to catch up with me ignited petty glee in my heart.

“Where are we going?” I asked, holding my hands at my front, keeping my shoulders straight. Like the future queen I’d been trained to be.

“Dinner,” he responded.

I allowed him to move ahead of me, leading the way from this foreign section of the palace. But during the entirety of our walk, I observed my surroundings. I allowed myself to take in its unique beauty for the first time since being locked within its wall.

The grey stone-floors, ones I’d already become intimately familiar with, had a shine to them. A glistening as though they were possibly made up of remnants of the stars above. And the walls, stone as well, lined with candles lighting the way.

Only, these candles didn’t drip wax like the ones I had in my home. These burned brilliantly, never melting. Likely from a magically gifted fae.

I tried to recount the different houses of magic the Unseelie fae possessed and cursed my lack of teachings around the people who made up one-third of our world.

Olen stopped before me while I picked through my tutors’ instructions, startling me.

Blinking, I glanced up, finding a solid wood door with an odd, winged creature carved into the surface.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Where you’re dining,” he replied with an emotionless expression.

My mouth opened to question further when the door creaked open, and my eyes laid on an intimate room with a table in the middle. A table set for only two.

“No,” I gasped, stepping back against Olen’s towering body at the same moment Ulrich appeared from behind the door.

“No,” I repeated, shaking my head. Wincing at the ribbon from the mask tugging at my hair.

“My, Ursa , that color suits you,” Ulrich said with a smirk.

“Don’t call me that,” I replied, stepping away from Olen.

My body slipped back into the stance of an unphased queen, and I stalked past the Unseelie King. I’d barely made it beyond his reach when his hand wrapped around my bicep.

“Confident tonight,” he sneered.

“King Ulrich,” I stated, pulling my arm away, “I am the princess of the Kingdom of Nóatún. I will walk into the room with the confidence my people would expect of me.”

Ulrich stepped back, his face deadpan. His hand rose and I held back my flinch, expecting some kind of pain for my words. I blinked, finding his hand pointing to the table instead.

“You’re excused,” he said, keeping his eyes on me.

“Yes, your grace,” Olen muttered.

I walked around the king, holding my gaze on the table. Ignoring the black ink climbing up the forearm pointing the way.

A black horned creature appeared from the shadows and pulled my chair out as I approached. I nodded my appreciation, keeping my words to myself. To my surprise, the creature offered a tilted bow of respect before turning on its heel and leaving the room.

The door closed behind it and I steadied my gaze, watching Ulrich sink into the chair across from me.

His shoulder length, blond hair was half pulled up into a bun barely visible at the crown of his head. His beard, still as perfectly groomed as I’d previously seen it, masked the lower half of his face while his black mask covered the upper half. Behind the mask, his emerald green eyes stared back at me and an irritating smile crept across his lips.

“Admiring me, Brenna?” he asked.

I scowled, laying my hands on my lap.

“Can’t admire any man who hides himself behind a mask and facial hair.”

His brow rose barely above his mask, but his smile didn’t falter.

“How’s your back?”

“You’re demented,” I snorted unintentionally. “What would make you believe I’d answer that question?”

Ulrich leaned back in his seat; the motion caused his dipped neckline to strain against his muscle while his arms crossed over his chest. The dark ink on his skin poked through, but I avoided staring.

“Olen tells me you were behaving the last several days.”

I mimicked his movement, leaning back with as much ease and lack of emotion. My arms crossed over my own chest.

“Hard to do anything when your healer had me inhibited by tonics for the majority of that time,” I replied.

Ulrich’s grin widened.

We were playing a game. Two royals, daring each other silently. Testing to see who would break their trained composure first.

Who would throw the first blow.

My shoulders tightened when the door opened once more, but I refused to glance at who joined us. Ulrich kept his eyes on me, holding himself as still as I was.

“Our meal is here,” he said calmly before pulling his gaze away.

I held myself. I didn’t care to see what meal he’d decided to feed me. I’d decided to best this king at his game. And as far as I was concerned, I was winning.

Platters clattered on the table before me and the scent of rich meats filtered throughout the room. The attendant creatures, beings I hadn’t taken the time to learn the names of, lifted the lids before ducking away.

“Hungry?” Ulrich asked, reaching across to the platter closest to him.

The cracking of him breaking off the leg of whatever fowl laid on the plate turned my stomach. I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head.

His eyes gleamed in the light of the candles surrounding the room while he slowly took a bite. I grimaced while his tongue lapped at the grease falling from the meat and anguished over the painfully slow pace he chose to pull the meat away from the bone. Then, just when I didn’t think he could disgust me further, he looked me dead in the eye while he licked his fingers clean.

I lost the game instantly.

I jumped to my feet, yelling out angry, disgusted sighs.

“Are you finished?” I demanded.

“No,” he grinned, taking another horribly slow bite.

“Stop doing that!”

“I.” Another bite. “Am.” Then another. “Eating.”

“Is there no other way to eat something? Must you make it so—” I tried to come up with the correct word when his voice broke through my thoughts.

“Sensual?”

I snorted—loudly—with full intent.

“That is not sensual.”

His responding laugh startled me, and I watched as he threw his half-eaten meal back onto his plate. “You’re right. That wasn’t. Please sit, Brenna.”

My hands shook at my sides. I’d already lost, too quickly. So frustratingly fast and here he was, offering me another chance.

“Why am I here?” I asked, ignoring his request.

“We’re having a meal in my private dining room.”

I observed the room while he spoke, finding a door to the side of the hearth.

“Where does that lead?” I inquired, pointing.

My head turned back to him, finding an amused smile on his face.

“That hallway you ran down.”

My eyes widened and my mouth opened. “No, it does not.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No,” I pushed. “The only other door in that hallway was the one that led to Olen’s room.”

“How was it, finding him nude and enjoying some carnal pleasure?” Ulrich asked, trying to get beneath my skin again.

“Absolutely fine,” I replied. “Your right hand is well endowed.”

A noise thumped beneath the table, and I jumped. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Ulrich’s hands rose and he grinned again. “Absolutely not. Enjoy him if you’d like. He’s rather rowdy in the bedroom.”

I chose not to ask how in the Gods he knew that and instead turned my heel, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Ulrich asked.

“Back to my room,” I replied.

He was in front of me before I could take my next breath. Towering over me like a terrifying vyking.

“I didn’t excuse you,” he said, leaning close.

“Get out of my way.” I smiled sweetly. “Please.”

He leaned closer, forcing me to take a step back. “We have a predicament, princess. One we must discuss like the trained royals we both are.”

I stared up at him, wishing I had the courage to rip the mask off his face. To get under his skin. To prove he didn’t have as much power as he believed himself to have.

“If you were half the kind of royal I’d expect you to be, you would remove your face from my personal boundaries.”

To my surprise, he stepped back, gesturing to the table once more.

“I will be on my best behavior.” He grinned.

I scoffed. “I doubt that.”

But I relented and returned to my seat. He did the same, sitting slowly with his shoulders straight. His face returned to that kingly expression of disinterest.

“Your grace,” I said with a sneer. “You said we have a predicament.”

“Yes, your highness, ” he replied. “I’m not sure what to do with you.”

I straightened in my seat. “That sounds like a personal predicament, your grace .”

He smiled. “I don’t argue, but it does put me at a loss of what I’m to allow you to do.”

The stiff position I held began to ache down my back and my resolve slipped slightly while my shoulders slumped. I leaned back, hoping he hadn’t caught my weakness peeking through. Instead, I hoped he saw a princess acting as casually as a king.

“I do not see how it’s my duty to help you come up with a plan.”

“I’ve whipped you publicly,” he replied.

My hands fisted the skirt of my gown. “I know,” I said through gritted teeth.

“My people can’t see me allowing a punished traitor freedoms. Not this soon.”

The realization that I truly had no knowledge of how many days it had been since that public humiliation dawned on me. Instantly enraging me.

“How soon has it been?” I decided to ask.

His unphased expression faltered for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“Just less than a fortnight.”

“How?”

I was shocked, not understanding how nearly fourteen days had passed. There was no possibility that I’d been in my haze for that long.

“You were in my bed, stinking up my space for nearly seven days. Today marked the third day since you’ve been in the bedroom I graciously allowed you to rest in. Ten days, just less than a fortnight.”

I stood, my heart racing. “You’re a monster,” I said calmly. “You laid your hands on me so brutally that I’ve lost close to fourteen days of my life. Days I will never get back.”

“Brenna do not insult me by acting as though you don’t understand that hand I was forced to enact.”

“Excuse me?” My voice rose. “Is this how you believe kings behave? How I would act if I decide to take the queendom of my island?”

Ulrich said nothing.

“I’ve seen a just king. I’ve seen queens rule their people with love and kindness. I could write to them. Tell them you’ve injured their subject. Watch the wrath of Oberon, Mab, and Titania come down on this fucked palace.”

The room shook and whatever magical wall he’d had holding back his power unleashed. His shadows crawled up his shoulders, creeping toward me, covering the walls of the space.

The candles faltered then extinguished and the red of the blood moon replaced the light. Layering a gruesome filter over us.

I shook in my place watching Ulrich stand, his hands went lax against his thighs.

“Write to them and see what they say,” he said calmly. “Write to your father. Beg, Brenna. Beg for help.”

His shadows moved him across the room. The unnatural magic crawled toward me as though it were trying to suck the life right from my lungs.

One tendril of the demonic power gripped my cheeks, pulling me toward him. Placing my face inches from his.

“No one will answer,” he sneered.

He dropped me, allowing my barely healing body to crash to the ground.

“I hate you,” I cried.

“Since you claim I’ve taken almost fourteen days of your life, I’ll give you fourteen back,” he replied, not responding to my decree of hate. “Return to that little room, princess, and pray to your useless Gods to come and save you.”

He walked away, with his shadows trailing behind while he walked through the door I’d noted earlier. Alone, I let out a sob, thankful Frode had healed me with his salves and tonics. Leaving only sensitive pink scars littering my back.

My tears wetted my cheeks then I wiped them away, pulling myself to my feet. I glanced back at the door Olen had led me through and turned in that direction.

I wouldn’t let this king break me. I would, however, take full advantage of my gifted freedom.