Page 13

When the clock says a quarter till seven, I camp out by the door. I’m not going to miss my chance this time. They’re so quiet I don’t hear their footsteps coming down the hallway, don’t hear them at all until the plate slides under the door. “Hey! Wait!” I call out.

Nothing.

“Hello?” I call again.

Several more beats of silence pass before a timid girl’s voice rings out. “Hello.”

“Hi….um…who are you?”

“I’m Vera. I work in the kitchens.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, you’re the prince’s new wife, aren’t you? You’re a…nought?” she asks uncertainly, that last word little more than a whisper.

“Do you know the prince?”

“Yes, I know him. Or—I used to know him, at least.”

I suck in a breath. If I ask her for help, I risk her turning me into him, but…what do I really have to lose? “What do you know about him?”

“I think I should go,” she says abruptly.

“Wait, Vera, I’m wondering…if you would help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“Help me get out of here.”

“Is he…keeping you locked in there?” Her voice sounds closer, like she’s taken a step forward.

“Yes.”

“Why? Why is he locking you in there?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they mean to do with me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t intend you any harm.” She doesn’t utter the words with the least bit of confidence.

“No, I think that he does.”

“What would make you think that?”

My thoughts scramble…this girl is a witch, too. She could be just as horrible as he is. But… it’s not as if I have any other options. “I saw him do things on the way here.”

“What did he do?” Her voice has fallen to a whisper, yet it sounds closer like she’s leaned down on the other side of the door.

“He killed people. Not just people—children. He killed children. Is that… normal for him?” I ask, though what I’m really asking is if it’s normal for all of them . I hear her suck in a breath.

“H-he really did that?" She asks aghast. “Normal…no. I--I don’t know the prince anymore. I used to know him, but that was a while ago. I can’t get you out of there. I’m sorry. I—I should go.”

“Please?” I ask desperately when silence looms between us again, I wonder if she’s already fled. “Vera?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to get you out of there. It’s that I can’t,” she says, her voice hushed. “I can’t break through the lock on these doors. I’ve tried with a different door. I’m sorry.”

“Wait—could you bring me something? Some rope? A really long rope. And food? I’ll need a lot of food, nonperishables.”

It’s quiet for such a long moment, I’m certain she’ll never agree, and she’ll likely alert the prince to my request. “I can do that.”

“Really?” I ask, voice pitching several octaves in my eagerness. “You will?”

“Yes, but not tonight. It will have to be tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I repeat. “Thank you.”

“I have to go now.” I hear the light pattering of her footsteps this time before I can even utter out a goodbye.

I just need to hold out for another day, and I’ll have the necessary supplies to make my escape. The sun sets, and the prince has yet to return. I should be sleeping after a severe lack, however, I’m too wound up. I want to be awake when he comes back and see him go to bed before I shut my eyes. I hide my bag of supplies between the cushions of the couch and pray that he doesn’t notice my missing blanket.

I make sure to lock Div back in the trunk where I found him. Hours pass before I finally hear the sound of his footsteps coming down the hallway, a shuffling, and the sound of voices. He’s not alone. There’s a thump against the door and the sound of giggling. The door starts to open and then immediately shuts again. “Wait—I…uh…forgot the nought's in here,” the prince says.

“She’s in there?” a girl gasps.

“Yeah…I’m not entirely sure what she’s gotten up to today so I should probably check that she’s not going to ambush us or something. She’s a little…wild.” The girl breaks out in another chorus of giggles, and I shoot a withering look toward the ceiling. Based on the sounds of their slurred speech, both of them are very drunk.

“Oh Gods. I’m so sorry she made you marry one of them. That’s terrible,” she pouts.

“Let me just—wait one second.”

I press my back flat to the arm of the couch as the door clicks open, and he pokes his head in. “Hey,” he says softly. I don’t grace him with a response as his eyes scan the room to see if anything is amiss.

“Okay, it's fine,” he says as he ushers her in. He pointedly doesn’t look at me as he leads her to his room, but the girl, with chocolate brown curls framing her face, stops and gawks at me.

“That’s her? I didn’t expect her to look so normal,” she whispers loudly.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on her hand.

“Wait—can she understand us?”

“Yes.”

She falls into another fit of drunken giggles as she staggers in. The prince almost appears apologetic as he shuts the door behind her.

My cheeks scald as I try very hard not to listen to the murmuring, giggling, and other shuffling and creaking sounds permeating from his room, but there’s little else for me to focus on. Couldn’t he go somewhere else for that? Anywhere else? It’s maybe half an hour later when the prince, with his blanket draping his shoulders, is shuffling the rather dejected-looking girl out of his room and out of the chambers.

I shift my head toward the opposite wall as he turns, expecting him to go straight back to his chambers. My heart sputters when he makes a beeline for me and flops down on the other end of the sofa.

He turns his head in my direction, face shadowed by the vines hanging in his window. I can still make out the glazed sheen to his eyes.

“Nought.” He nods his head in acknowledgment. The blanket wrapping his shoulders gives him the appearance of someone younger, boyish, not at all like the child-murdering witch I know he is. “What did you get up to today?”

I work a swallow but remain quiet and still hoping he’ll just leave if I don’t bother to engage with him.

“You look nervous.” He arches a single brow, head cocking to the side. “Are you…scared of me?”

“No,” I say much too abruptly to be convincing.

“Really?”

“I’m not scared of you,” I say with a defiant tilt of my chin.

He suddenly reaches forward, and I startle back. The smirk pulling at his lips tells me that scaring me was his whole aim and I narrow a glare that promptly fades into horror as he slips his hand in between the cushions of the couch.

He tugs out the first knife I stashed there, only inches from my collected bag of supplies that also most importantly hosts my locket. “Then what’s this?” he asks, twirling the knife between his fingers.

I open and close my mouth, panic snagging any rebuttal I could possibly think of in my throat. He chuckles, unfettered, as he slips the knife back between the cushions and my brow wrinkles.

“You’re not worried?”

“Worried about what?”

“That I’ll slit your throat while you’re sleeping?”

He grins, flashing those two mischievously crooked teeth. “You could try. But it’s harder than it looks.”

Funny because it didn’t look hard for him at all. “You don’t know me.”

“True.” He drops the blanket, revealing a bare chest as he curls a hand to pick at his fingernails. I’m not sure he’s wearing anything at all under that blanket. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind?”

“You wouldn’t mind? If I slit your throat?”

He shrugs and turns his head to flash me a quick wink. “Make it quick?”

He doesn’t think I’m capable. “I could do it.”

He scrutinizes me for such a long moment it draws a flush from my cheeks. “Is there anything that you need?”

A rope. Enough food to last me weeks. I can’t say that, and I should have those things by tomorrow. I shake my head.

“Alright then, Nought. This is goodnight,” he sighs as he tugs himself to his feet. “See you tomorrow.”

He turns back at the door with a wry grin. “Or maybe not if you decide to put me out of my misery. I’ll leave the door unlocked in hopes.”

I glower at him, tempted to do just that. No, the safer option is to leave. He starts to pull the door shut and freezes. I hear it, too, the unmistakable sound of heels clicking down the hallway. He curses under his breath.

“Friend back already?”

“That’s not my friend, and I need you to come in here.”

I stare at him blankly.

“Now, nought,” he snaps.

I’m not doing that. Before I can process, he’s barreling toward me with a low growl. He picks me up and heaves me over his shoulder, and I thrash, pounding at his back. “What are you—let me go,” I demand.

He bounds into his room, tosses me onto the bed, and I scramble. “Stop,” he demands. He draws a symbol, and his magic binds around my limbs like shackles. I fall flat on my back, completely at his mercy. My heart thunders in my chest, the dāemon not far behind it. “Look at me.” When I don’t immediately oblige his request, he grips a hand around my jaw and steers me to face him. I yank my head with a grunt, and his hand around me tightens.

“Let me go,” I snarl.

“Listen.” He leans forward until his face is inches from my own and stares at me so intently that I can’t help but recoil slightly. “If she interacts with you, you cannot act like you do with me.” His words are hushed yet full of venom.

“Who?”

His eyes flick toward the door and back. “Morin.”

“And how do I act with you?”

“Like--a--fucking--brat,” he hisses, pushing my head further back into the mattress.

A knock sounds at the door, and he swears, something akin to panic widening in his eyes. “Tell me you understand.” His grip around my jaw grows so firm it’s almost painful.

I scowl back at him, not even allowing myself to blink, the only rebellion at my disposal.

“Stupid, proud, nought!” he spits. He relinquishes a growl, giving my jaw a final push before he releases me. “Pretend to be asleep. Pretend you don’t exist, and hopefully, she’ll have forgotten that you do.”

I let out a shuddering breath as he retreats. He flicks out the light before the door clicks shut behind him. My body remains locked there on the bed. I blink as my eyes adjust to the utter darkness. Tears of anger well up and spill down my cheeks. I can’t even as much as wipe them away.