Before I could drop down and let my hand glide over the frigid soil, I straightened my spine. “How is this a garden, my prince? It looks terribly neglected and without any orem.”
He shrugged. “True, but I figured since you’re used to tending to fields that perhaps you would like it.”
I stiffened and wondered if he realized how ridiculous that sounded. Most in my village hated laboring in the fields and only did so as a means to support their family. I was one of the few fae who enjoyed it, but that was only because of my love for the plants. However, the prince couldn’t possibly know that, which simply implied that he assumed all field laborers wanted to work the land.
He inhaled sharply. “What have I said that’s angered you now?”
“Who said I’m angry, my prince?”
“That line between your—”
“Right, I must be wearing my angry face. How could I forget?” I did my best to smooth my expression, then crossed my arms.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me?”
I pinned him with a haughty glare. “You want me to tell you why only an arrogant, entitled fairy would assume that all lesser fae who labor the fields would enjoy their jobs and want to tend to crops in their spare time? Oh no, I don’t think there’s any need for me to tell you that. Only a prince entirely out of touch with reality would need to be made aware of that fact.”
His eyes narrowed, and a rumble of his great power vibrated beneath my toes. “Careful, Ilara Seary, lest I remind you who I am.”
My heart jumped into my throat as a kiss of his magic washed over me. Breathing rapidly, I lowered my gaze and wondered when I’d become so stupid as to goad the Death Master of the continent. But there was something about this male that positively set me aflame with scorching anger. Anger. Not fear. Fury was easier to feel after all.
Still, I needed to stay alive, even if I was to be kept in a gilded cage. I had my sister to think of.
“I apologize, my prince.”
His nostrils were flaring when I dared a look up at him, and that earlier hopeful expression he’d worn had vanished. Instead, he was the portrait of annoyance.
A moment of guilt bit me, which was ridiculous, but it seemed as though he’d genuinely wanted to please me with this chamber.
But what had he expected? Beautiful or not, it was still a cage.
The prince lifted his attention over my head toward the Exorbiant Chamber at my back. “Food shall be brought shortly. Balbus is just outside the door.”
“He is? How do you—”
“I have matters to tend to, so I suggest you find something to do in your chambers while I’m gone. I had thought that perhaps the garden would keep you occupied, but maybe I was wrong. Regardless, you can do as you see fit.”
With that, he strode out of the garden, back into my chamber, before opening the door and passing Balbus in the hall, who carried a full tray of food and drink.
Blood thundered through my ears. I barely heard the servant when he called a greeting to me. Because one thing had become incredibly apparent. The prince intended to keep me here, locked within this room for a reason he refused to share, and I had no idea if I would ever escape.
CHAPTER 12
Balbus was quite possibly the happiest servant in existence. If he wasn’t beaming and gushing over all of the luxurious items within the Exorbiant Chamber or joyfully tending to any food or drink I needed, then he was simply grinning for no apparent reason.
Despite myself, I found myself liking the male.
The servant’s round abdomen pushed into the table when he bent over to pick up my empty tray. Straightening, he flashed me a wide smile. “Now that you’ve had your fill, what shall I get for you, Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory?”
“A dose of magic big enough to mistphase me back home?” I asked hopefully.
His eyes widened, then he laughed as his large belly moved up and down. “Oh my, you are a funny one, aren’t you, my dear?” He winked at me affectionately. “But I was thinking more along the lines of books or knitting materials or perhaps needlepoint. To help pass the time, of course.”
My breathing picked up, but I forced myself to say, “Um, books, I guess?” I’d never had much time to read nor had easy access to books following primary school, although even that luxury didn’t make this situation any better.
Balbus bowed. “Lovely. There’s a library within the prince’s wing that he’s instructed me to give you full access to. The castle also has a library, which you’ve been granted permission to use. I shall fetch reading material shortly. Now, as for your clothes, the castle’s tailor shall be by later this afternoon to obtain your measurements. All right, my dear?”
I could only manage a nod.
“Splendid. Should you need anything until then, simply pull that golden cord near the bed, and Patrice, Haisley, or I shall return. Otherwise, you can expect to see Daiseeum later tonight when she pops in to help you with undressing and bathing.”
“Daiseeum?”
“Your assigned lady’s servant.”
“My lady’s servant. Right.” I followed Balbus to the door, wringing my hands the entire way. “Might I go with you, Balbus? Please? Perhaps to help in the kitchen with the dishes I dirtied?” Mother, I just needed to get out of this room.
His jaw dropped. “Help in the kitchen? You can’t be serious?”
“As serious as a whiteout on the Cliffs of Sarum.”
His eyes widened further. “Ock, no, Lady Seary! The prince would shave my wings for that. You’re to stay here in your chambers. I do apologize, my dear. Prince’s orders.” With that, he exited the room and closed the door with a flourish.
When I tried to turn the doorknob to follow him, the handle wouldn’t budge.
“Blessed Mother!” I beat on the door, but it did no use. Balbus didn’t come back to rescue me, and nobody else came either. For all I knew, they couldn’t even hear me. I had no idea how strong the wards were protecting this chamber, but they’d been thick when I’d passed through them, making me wonder if they trapped sound too.
My solitude didn’t last long, though. Balbus returned with books as promised, but instead of allowing me to follow him despite nearly begging, he once again locked me in my chambers.
Fuming, I turned back toward my prison and for a moment just stood there. That lasted all of two seconds.
I quickly turned into a flurry of exploration, looking under every layer of bedding, upturning every piece of furniture, and prying under all of the artwork on the walls. I figured there had to be something that could help me escape or perhaps would yield a hidden exit. I just needed to find it.
Hours later, my fingertips and knuckles were raw from endless tapping and scratching as I searched for hollow areas in the walls or hidden exits. All of my searches proved unsuccessful, though, and were only interrupted when the tailor arrived. He was quick, efficient, and the opposite of loquacious. Despite trying to pry information from him too—that could hopefully help with my escape—the only words he uttered were turn or arms out or extend your legs. He didn’t even comment on my wingless back.
Grumbling, I resumed my searching after he left, but by nighttime the only interesting things I’d discovered were an old necklace stuffed deep within one of the couch cushions, an aged bottle of the greenest leminai I’d ever seen, and a magical safe hidden behind the small portrait of flowers near the wardrobe.