Home > Books > Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(36)

Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(36)

Author:Raven Kennedy

A pang of jealousy hits me while I watch them rush away. It must be so freeing, to ride off like that. With the wind blowing in your hair, the glittery snow at your feet. I bet it’s even better than standing on the wall to feel the breeze.

Going back inside, I quickly go through my morning routine, getting dressed in yet another gown with a horrible boning bodice, snapping them all one by one. If females were meant to have their waists strangled and breasts shoved up all damn day, we would’ve been born with corset ribs.

With a coat on to ward off the chill, I make it halfway to my bedroom door before my footsteps slow and my conscience falters.

Are you truly okay with the risk of murdering someone? Again?

My fingers tingle beneath my gloves as my teeth worry my bottom lip. But this doubt, this is what he wants. He’s getting in my head, and I can’t let him.

Heading for the door with renewed vigor, I think of all the places I’m going to go today. Except when I grab the handle to leave, it doesn’t turn.

I stare at the golden metal, noting the lack of a bolt on my side. The bastard locked me in. After I agreed to always keep guards with me, he still locked me up.

My back tingles. Sweat gathers on my neck.

I’m suddenly not here, in Fifth Kingdom’s bedroom. I’m back in Highbell, inside my cage, palms wrapped around the bars like a prisoner in a cell.

Barred away. Locked in. Kept.

I’m frozen, an inhale stuck in my throat as that feeling of being trapped presses against my chest like a force of gravity.

But then my ribbons move, their lengths wrapping around my torso, squeezing until I remember to take a breath.

I hold all the power. Me.

With a shaky exhale, I dig down, brushing off the caged animal feeling and instead, I blow a breath against my anger to stoke it to life, using it as a shield. My anger makes me feel better, makes me feel more in control. It reminds me that I’m not the powerless favored he wants me to think I am.

Of course Midas locked me in. I should’ve expected nothing less. I should’ve been emotionally prepared. There might not be bars around me, but this is just another way for him to cage me in. My keeper has a new lock, but that doesn’t mean I’m trapped.

Gritting my teeth, I raise a fist and knock on the door, knuckles rapping loudly. “Excuse me?”

I don’t get a reply, which irritates me, because I know without a doubt that there are guards out there.

Pressing my lips together, I pound my fist this time and shout. “Excuse me!” I hear shuffling on the other side and then hurried whispers. “I know you’re out there! Is that you, Scofield?”

There’s another stretch of silence and then, “Yes, my lady.” I don’t have to see his face to hear his grimace.

“Scofield, my door seems to have jammed accidentally. Can you open it, please?”

“I can’t do that, my lady.” Yep, that’s definitely a grimace I hear.

I stare daggers through the door. “Why not?”

“King Midas’s orders. You’re to stay in your rooms today for your safety.”

“Is that so?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Yes, my lady,” his muffled response comes.

“Scofield, open the door so we don’t have to talk through it.”

“Sorry, my lady, I don’t have the key.”

Anger fumes in my chest. “That conniving prick,” I hiss.

Scofield seems to make a choking noise. “What?”

“Not you,” I say with a sigh as I swipe a hand across my forehead in frustration. “Listen, Scofield, I need you to go get Midas for me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Goddess, he sure has this one trained well.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because he said when you asked me to do that, that’s how I was to respond,” Scofield answers honestly.

My eye twitches.

“His Majesty also told me to inform you that this is necessary.”

A scoff accompanies my rolling eyes. “I’m sure.”

Turning, I pace around the room, hands fidgeting in front of me as I contemplate what to do. I could stay put until Midas lets me out, but that option leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth, one that makes me grow increasingly claustrophobic.

I could also try and see what kind of damage my ribbons can do to the door, but the guards would definitely alert Midas if I tried to break out.

My eyes cut over to the balcony. Maybe I can sneak out instead?

I’m across the room before I can second-guess myself, and I slam the door behind me. Walking over to the railing, I assess my situation, looking all around. I’m on the third floor. Not terrible. Not that great either.

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