Page 56 of Artemysia

“Claiming you. You’re mine.” - Riev

I ’m up to my neck in soapy water in the prince’s deep, bronze bathtub, quickly scrubbing the blood from my arms. Yeesh.

One of the Syf’s fangs got me good. The water washes off in a brownish-red, same color as the tub.

I’m dying to find out what else the prince knows.

What “proof” he holds about Syf and the rest of the world.

If we are alone, how will we survive?

I stare blankly at the walls, barely noticing that I’m surrounded by a dark, lush print of black leaves and exotic deep orange birds, lit by an amber crystal chandelier.

The bar soap has strange purple seeds and bits of plants in it, and the hottest water flows from the faucets, but there’s no time to luxuriate in the oils and potions lining the shelves, though I uncork one and get a whiff of a milky coffee scent.

When I’m done bathing, I disinfect the bite wound on my arm, clenching my teeth as the green antiseptic from the medicine cabinet rinses over the fang marks.

The antibacterial tonic looks and smells and stings like the one we use in South Kingdom.

As I tighten thick, gauzy bandages around my forearm, I wonder how both North and South Kingdom have the same powerful medication that’s been around for only the last twenty years.

The bright green liquid stains the bandages, but it’s effective in staving off infection.

With a shock, I realize this must be a Syf invention. King Foss said they shared medicine with humans to help keep us alive. Why help us?

The prince’s office door is closed by the time I return to the bedroom.

Wrapped in a towel, I pull open both doors of the armoire and examine my clothing options. It’s such a waste that the beautiful red dress was shredded to bits.

I glance past embellished gowns and a collection of shoes at the bottom.

Are these Astrid’s? Or are they for any woman the prince sleeps with here?

Toryl is strangely cold at times, and yet there’s more to his actions than what he shows on the surface.

It must be partly due to whatever knowledge he holds that affects his worldview.

What makes him believe mankind is endangered.

I’m drawn to the complexity of the position he’s in, if only because I understand it through the lens of my own life. Strategize to survive. Fight to live.

In the back of the armoire is a soft black dress laced with ribbons at the chest that looks comfortable.

I eye a pair of suede ankle boots that look like they’ll fit me.

At this point, I’d prefer pants and a shirt, but there’s nothing close to that, so I drop the towel and unlace the top of the dress.

Before I can slip on the dress, the double doors of the prince’s bedroom crash open with a loud crack as one door splinters into three pieces. I jump back, covering myself with my arms.

Riev staggers in.

“Delphine!” he shouts. His pupils are disturbingly large, like a nocturnal creature’s, but entirely unfocused.

I stumble back. Oh hell . His shirt is rumpled, the buttons misaligned.

His hair mussed. Who pulled his hair out of its knot? It’s not like him to be so disheveled. Ever.

His cheeks are feverishly red, and he sways in place.

He’s drunk.

And he’s broken down the prince’s door.

Behind him through the cracked door, North Kingdom guards lie strewn over the thick plum carpeting, unconscious down the hallway as far as I can see.

I quickly scan him for any visible injuries. His knuckles are bloody, but nothing else.

We shout at each other at the same time, “What the hell are you doing?”

Riev answers first. “Claiming you. You’re mine. Fucking mine.” His sudden possessiveness surprises me and sends a powerful tremor down my spine, hollowing my stomach. My body reacts to him, despite my brain scrambling to make sense of his behavior.

He drags his gaze down my naked body, his eyes darkening. “Why—?”

I’m glaring right back at him, furious he’s blowing our cover and acting like a madman.

I snatch up the dress and pull it over my head, wrestling my arms through. The stitches on my back twinge at the forceful movement, and I bite down on my lip in a wince. The painkillers I’ve been taking each morning are wearing off, and I need more.

Riev frowns, noticing my bandaged forearm. “You’re hurt? Who did that?” He scans the room, unsteady on his feet. Before I can berate him, he takes another step forward and collapses onto the prince’s bedroom floor.