Page 37

Chapter 37

Laude

“There has to be another way.” I didn’t mean to sound like I was begging, but I was, in fact, begging.

Whyzer Patro shoved me into a room full of windows and light after having dragged me off La Lavia and into this fortress. He threw me on a couch, and my head hit the hard decorative part of the furnishing.

“Ai-yi-yi.” I bit back the rest of what I meant to say because the Ancient One knows I might have overshared, and this was no time to mess things up further.

“Will you accept the binding?” He lifted his staff like he meant to spear me through with it. The tip sparked to life into something that could have been a glowing coal.

I shook my achy head. Though he might be able to hold me hostage and burn my shoulder, I would not be a willing participant. He couldn’t break my will so easily.

He snapped his fingers and shouted, “You out there.”

A big man in a simple tunic appeared at the doorway. “At your orders, Whyzer Patro.”

“Get me the boy.”

“The boy?” I got to the edge of my seat.

“Would you prefer I mark him?”

Now I really shook my head making my loose curls come even more out of order. “I’ll do it. Please.”

The cruel line of his mouth twisted beneath his tidy mustache. “Lower the dress from your shoulder.”

Every fiber in my muscles tugged against my fingers as I lifted the fabric from my shoulder, exposing it to the coolness of the room. I turned my face away.

Please forgive me for this or you can show up again and give me a different way out. How I prayed and pleaded. But this time, heat seared the skin on my shoulder. I screeched my throat raw.

Whyzer Patro’s staff dimmed to its original dull wood color as tears ran down my cheeks. At that moment, a boiling heat threatened to work its way out of my skin and claw at his face, but I fought the urge. Instead, I went back to shouting in my head, asking why I had to be here.

The wicked, wicked man chuckled like he hadn’t just inflicted pain on me. Then, he went to the corner of the room and pulled out a glass bottle and a cup. “To dull the edge?”

Was he offering me wine? This time I didn’t even bother to shake my head, as if somehow my lack of response would inflict pain on him.

“Have it your way.” He poured himself a cup and reclined in an armchair.

I pinched the dark vial of Queen Cottia’s death drops woven into the fabric of my skirt. One drop would be enough to leave a human clutching their chest. A few more drops would ensure death, should the antidote not be consumed in minutes.

I heard what sounded like a horse trotting down the passage and through the doorway. But it was just a couple of fellows who wore tunics and pants like normal people.

“A ship’s on the horizon.”

“Prince Hugo?”

“Not sure.”

“Hmm.” He placed his cup on a side table and left along with the other two brutes.

My fingernails dug into the velvet cushions, and I turned toward the whyzer’s silver goblet. He could have offered honey or mud or something useful for the wound, but that reminded me of just how perfect an opportunity this was.

Digging into the hem of my dress, I plucked out the tiny vial hidden there. I uncorked the bottle.

Footfalls approached.

Shaky fingers worked quickly to re-cork my vial. I couldn’t be caught.

The rest of my days I might become Whyzer Patro’s puppet. Maybe I’ll get a chance to visit the dungeon to make sure he doesn’t kill Jaime while I pretend to be queen in Pedroz and Whyzer Patro manipulates my every move. Laude, stop making up a future for yourself. This hasn’t happened yet.

A stout woman carrying a flower-printed dress entered. “Can’t have you looking like you cleaned the floors with your skirt.”

With the tender burnt skin on my shoulder, I’d never wanted to reject such a lovely piece of fabric more.