Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
I strained for the handle, tears streaking a face that wasn’t mine. My promise... I won’t break my promise...
My hand fell away. Darkness claimed me before I hit the floor.
Chapter Three
“Princess? Your Highness?”
My eyes fluttered open. Light immediately assaulted them, and I snapped my lids shut.
Everything hurt. From the pads of my aching feet to the top of my throbbing scalp. Even my jaw hurt as though all of my teeth had fallen out, then regrown anew in one night. What was wrong with me? What happened?
“Where... am I?”
“Don’t be silly.” A light giggle tickled my ear followed by the whoosh of curtains. I flipped over as more light pounded my eyes, burrowing my face into something soft and sweet-smelling. “Rise and shine, Princess. You don’t usually sleep in this late. Are you well?”
“Why are you calling me that?” I grunted. My head was a mess of pain. If someone told me a spike had been driven through it, I’d say they were lying. This pain was from three spikes. “Just call me... by my name. All the traditions and rules about names... are silly.”
“Oh.” The person’s shuffling feet paused for a beat. “I... That is very kind of you, Princess, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. I feel it best I address you by your station.”
“Station? What are you talking about? And close those curtains.” Why were Shadi and the others being so silly? Who wanted the sun in their face after a night of drinking rich wines? “My head is killing me. I didn’t think I had too much wine. The palace stuff must be stronger.”
“Wine? But I only brought you one glass with your meal last night,” whoever they were replied. “Have you been imbibing in secret? Oh, Your Eminence, the king would not like that.”
“The king? Why would he care about the likes of me?”
“Princess, are you sure you’re feeling all right?” A cool hand came between me and the pillow. “Hmm. A touch warm. How about I prepare you a rosewater bath? I’ll cancel your tutors for the morning, and prepare you tea on the terrace. A cool bath and a little fresh air, I’m sure you’ll feel much better, Your Majesty.”
“Rosewater? Tutors? Tea on the terrace? What in the name of Meya are you talking about?”
I sat up, and blinked. Large, owlish brown eyes blinked back at me.
“Who are you?”
The stranger laughed, wrinkling her button nose. She looked to be about my age, but that would be where our similarities stopped. She was taller, broader, and wore a plain but expensive tunic, pants, and linen boots. Palace staff.
Girls like her who could get jobs working in the castle were raised nowhere near the Galley. She was likely the daughter of a nobleman, who received the highest-paid work women without magic could get.
Fiona. My mind impossibly supplied the name. How? I did not know the woman.
“That’s very funny, Princess. I forget what a lively sense of humor you have. Now come with me.” She took my hands, ignoring my sputtered questions.
I was in a room that was both familiar and unfamiliar to me. These floors knew my feet. The bed remembered my frame better than any lover, and yet, I’d never been here before.
“If you’re not unwell, you can’t be late to meet with the tutors. King Salman was most insistent.”
“Tutors for what?” My stomach turned. “Tutors to teach me to be a war wife? Will they show me how to—to service the faeriken? That’s hideous! Who would think of such a thing?”
She gaped at me. “Mother Meya, no,” she cried. “Of course not. They’re your usual tutors. Language, history, etiquette, and geography.”
“What usual tutors?” I clutched my head, wincing. “You’re not making sense.”
“Your Eminence, you truly don’t look well. I’ve never seen you so pale.” She took my hand again. “Let’s put this whole conversation of tutors to bed. You’re not meeting with them today. You need your rest. It won’t do for a bride to look sickly on her wedding day.”
My head snapped up.
“You are here because I am not marrying King Alisdair. You are.”
“No.”
I ripped away from her, running to an unknown door with steps that were too sure. Bursting inside, I found myself in a wardrobe. What I was looking for stood on the opposite end of a room full of magnificent clothes and shoes. I skidded to a stop in front of the mirror... and screamed.
“No. No, no, no!”
It all came back to me. Every horrible, awful second of it. Trapped, gagged, crawling, begging... and a selfish royal with her besotted lover, offering me up to die in her place. The selfish royal gazing back at me.
It worked. Their evil, twisted curse worked. A mass of red, silky locks covered half my torso. Full, plump lips were dry from just waking up. Lily-pad eyes swam in milky, red-stained ponds, and my too-pale skin bleached whiter than a sheet. This was not me.