Page 12 of Bonded by Thorns (Beasts of the Briar #1)

12

Rosalina

O f all the things I thought might happen when escaping, getting choked out by a giant masked knight was not on my list of possibilities. I rub my neck, flashes of how easily he lifted me burning in my mind. Then he’d dragged me like I was nothing but a sack of flour all the way here.

The masked knight. Prince Ezryn.

I inhale and give myself a moment to take in my surroundings. I’m in a giant room, and… it’s beautiful. A mesh of natural bark and stunning architecture. There is a literal tree growing out of one wall, blooming with pink cherry blossoms that flutter down and scatter across the carpet.

It’s obvious they haven’t used this place in a long time. White dusty sheets drape over the furniture, except the bed, which is four posts of gilded gold. A curtain of purple willow flowers drapes around it. The walls are pale pink marble, veined with white and rose gold.

It would all be perfectly delightful if not for the massive thorns breaking out of the wall and cracking up through the floor. The same as the ones outside and in the dungeon. These thorns cover every inch of this castle.

“Do you like it?”

I jump as I see the girl hovering by the door. The masked prince had called her Astrid. She’s a slight thing, with short white hair and stunning red eyes. Her pale skin is near translucent, and she wears an ivory dress with a blue apron. Astrid doesn’t look much older than me, though that probably doesn’t mean much with her pointed ears. If Papa’s ramblings had any merit, fae are immortal. She could be twenty or two thousand.

“Oh,” she continues, “I’m Astrid, by the way.”

“I’m Rosalina.” I plop down on the bed and a plume of dust erupts around me. “If that masked demon wants a thank you for moving me from the dungeon to a room, he’s not going to get it. A beautiful prison is still a prison.”

Astrid’s expression falters and a stab of guilt runs through me. Maybe she’s as trapped as I am. Who would want to stay in a place that imprisons harmless old men, is ruled by the rudest man in all of existence, and guarded by a terrifying masked prince?

I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sorry. I’ve been through a lot. A day ago, I didn’t believe the fae existed.”

Papa had been right all this time. Was Mom somewhere in this world? Could she have survived? I suppress a shudder as I think of the ashen goblins.

“You didn’t know about us? Really?” Astrid hops toward me. “How did you get here then? Usually, only believers can enter the Enchanted Vale.”

“The Enchanted Vale,” I whisper. “Is that where we are?”

“Precisely, we’re in Castletree.” Astrid tugs me toward the window. Outside lie the castle grounds, and beyond that the briars.

“Doesn’t seem very enchanted,” I mumble.

Astrid’s lip wobbles. “Our castle and the land are sick. And it’s spreading to the four realms.”

“The four realms?”

“Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter,” Astrid says. “You can’t see the realms from here, but we can enter them from the castle.”

Before I can ask her what she means, she gestures outside to the briars. “But it’s dangerous in this land. I know you don’t want to be here, but I wouldn’t try to run out there again. It’s amazing both you and your father made it here alive.”

An image flashes in my mind: the dark-haired man. Had he been real or only my imagination after I hit my head?

“The briars are crawling with goblins and their hounds.”

“What do those monsters even want?”

Astrid’s nose wiggles, and she bites her bottom lip. “To hunt and kill and cause chaos. They answer only to the Below. Nothing but rabid beasts of the Prince of Thorns.”

“The Prince of Thorns.” I study the dark purple brambles crawling their way up the walls and sprouting up from cracks in the floor.

“These are his work as well,” Astrid says.

“Who is he? Another fae?”

Astrid nods. “The most wicked and vile fae of all. He lives in a dark and traitorous realm known as the Below. He is the great betrayer. Someone I pray you never meet.”

“The two fae I met here aren’t much better. One locked up my father, and the other choked me. Maybe all fae men are assholes.” I tug my sleeve down. Or maybe all men are.

“I know it may seem that way, but for those living at Castletree… There’s a great sadness. And the princes are not so bad once you get to know them.”

I want to tell her that’s called Stockholm Syndrome, but she looks so earnest I attempt to soften my tone. She’s the one person here who’s shown any kindness toward me. Actually, she’s the first person in a long time who’s shown me any kindness. I sit down on the bed and give a deep sigh. “So, you work here?”

“Yes, as part of the Winter staff. I’m a lady-in-waiting, though there’s been nothing to do lately. I’m sorry I’m jumpy. But how can I contain my excitement? You’re here.” She sits down next to me and touches my hair. “You certainly are beautiful. I haven’t met a human before.”

My cheeks burn. “Can you tell me more about this place? What do you mean you’re part of the Winter staff? Who was the blue-eyed fae that locked up my father? And is that terrifying knight a legit prince? Why can’t you just weed whack these thorns?”

Astrid’s lip trembles. Okay, I guess I came on strong with the questions.

The door swings open and a fae woman bursts in rolling a cart. She appears middle-aged, with blond hair pulled in a knot on top of her head, full lips, and a portly body. Her ears taper into a distinctive point.

She’s wearing a simple white dress, but her apron is light pink. Before I can study her further, the smell from the cart hits me, and I let out an embarrassing moan.

“I thought our new guest might be hungry, although I’ve heard she’s already met some of the castle’s yummiest offerings,” the woman says, giving me a long-lashed wink. “The name’s Marigold. I serve the Spring Realm, but I ensure everyone around here is fed and watered. And that includes our new guest.”

I want to retort I’m more a prisoner than a guest, but she’s brought me food, so I bite my tongue. Plus, my mouth waters from the smell of whatever is covered on her cart.

Marigold notices my gaze, then lifts the lid. A variety of colors fill the tray, from the golden-brown waffles to the deep red of fried tomatoes. The fluffy pancakes glisten with syrup, and slices of juicy oranges and red strawberries shine like jewels.

Marigold wheels the tray in front of me, and I tear into a pancake.

Maybe a smart person would question if the food was poisoned, but I’m pretty sure these fae could kill me if they wanted to. And as soon as the spongy sweetness melts on my tongue, I forget all about that and lose myself to the meal. How long has it been since I last ate? Probably not that long but running from goblins and getting kidnapped by fae really builds up an appetite.

After sufficiently devouring the pastries and fruit, I look up to see Astrid and Marigold watching me. I wipe the crumbs from my mouth and awkwardly mumble, “Uh, sorry. I should have asked if you two wanted anything to eat.”

“Don’t be silly,” Marigold says, picking up a teapot from the side of the tray and pouring me a steaming cup. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve something nice. It was very kind, what you did for your father. All of us staff are talking about it.”

At the mention of my father, my hand stills over my fourth pastry. I dump sugar and a nutty-smelling milk into the teacup to delay replying. Did he make it home?

“The fae I made a deal with…” I start, trusting she knows who I’m talking about. “Do you think he actually sent my father home?”

“Of course,” Marigold says. “When the master promises something, he follows through with his whole heart. Trustworthy and loyal, that one is. A little on the stern side, though.”

I don’t understand. Both of them speak so highly of this so-called Master. The white-haired fae with the dark voice and those piercing blue eyes…

Keldarion.

“Unlike another fae we know,” Astrid huffs. “Ca—”

Marigold shoots her a grim look. “Don’t speak such a name here. The master forbade it, remember?”

“I don’t know how we could forget him. Not with all of this.” Astrid gestures to one of the many thorns tearing through the walls. “Or with his constant presents to the master.”

“I don’t know how anyone could forget him once they get a look.” Marigold fans herself with a napkin. “Why do the evil ones always have to be so handsome?”

I guess they’re talking about the Prince of Thorns. Astrid said he creates the briars, controls the goblins, and is from a place called the Below.

“How’s the breakfast?” Astrid blinks her large eyes at me, obviously eager for a change of subject.

“The best food I’ve eaten in a long time.” It’s the truth. Faerie food sure beats the stale cold Pop-Tarts I usually have as I rush to work. I take a sip of the tea, the taste floral and malty. It’s warm and comforting as it slides down my throat. “So, you all live and work here?”

“Yes, we’re permanent residents. We wouldn’t be welcomed back in our home realms,” Astrid says.

“What do you mean?”

Marigold smooths down the folds of her apron. “There is a deep enchantment over this castle, and it’s not our place to speak about it. But since this is your home now, you should know some things.”

Astrid hops closer, excitement gleaming in her red eyes. “There are four wings in Castletree, each of them representing one of the fae realms: Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn. It’s customary that the High Prince of each realm resides in the castle with a host of personally selected staff. I’m from the Winter Realm, and Marigold—”

“Is from Spring.” The fae woman smirks.

“And we’re in the Spring Wing now,” I guess, taking in the flowers that drape down the walls.

“Yes,” Astrid says, “and there’s also High Tower—”

“And you already met the prince of my realm,” Marigold interrupts. I can’t help but think it was an intentional disruption.

This castle holds secrets within secrets.

“The Spring Prince?” I snort. “You mean the masked man in the armor? Yeah, I met him. He wrapped his hand around my throat and choked me out.”

Marigold sits beside me on the bed, eyes wide. “How hard?”

My eyes widen. “W-what?”

She gives a devious leer. “Well, if any of the princes wanted to wrap their large hands around my throat—”

“Marigold!” Astrid hits her with the side of her apron. “You’re so bad.”

“What, a woman can fantasize, can’t she? Not much else for us to do here.”

My face flushes. I think we both have different feelings toward being choked out. Though now I can’t stop thinking about how his hand was big enough to wrap around my throat and the strength he possessed to lift me.

I give myself a well-deserved slap on the forehead. What the hell is wrong with me? I turn back to Astrid and Marigold.

“So, the princes and the staff… Do they ever, uh…” I trail off, not sure how to word it.

“No!” Astrid says quickly. “They’re all very respectful of us.”

“Unfortunately.” Marigold sighs, then gives a little sniff. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you some fresh clothes.”

I give a sniff as well. Going through those briars and spending the night in a prison cell has not done me any favors. Marigold ducks down beneath the cart.

She hands me a stack of clothes and I place them on my lap. I can’t help but notice how soft the fabric is, and how dirty my hands are on top of it. In fact, I think there’s still some dried blood on me. “Thank you.”

“You need to stop smelling like a goat who ran through manure.” Marigold turns to Astrid. “Take the girl down to Summer and get her washed. I’ll have the rest of the staff dust and prep this room.”

“You don’t have to go to so much trouble,” I say. “This is already ten times better than the dungeon cell.”

She waves her hand. “Nonsense. We haven’t had a guest in twenty-five years, and that one didn’t turn out well at all. I haven’t gotten to boss anyone around in ages.”

Before I can ask about the unfortunate guest from twenty-five years ago, Astrid loops her arm through mine. “Lady Rosalina, you are going to adore the hot springs. I know it.”

Hot springs in a castle? I guess I am a little intrigued. Plus, if I’m going to be here until I can figure out a way to get past the goblins, then learning the layout of the castle is a good idea.

I smile back at Astrid. “Lead the way.”