He lingered a moment, his features tightening as he looked from my uneaten breakfast to me. I hadn’t the energy to reassure him. And I hadn’t the energy to ask if there would be anything else to accompany the revealing material that resembled more of a seductive nightgown.
I gave my eyes back to the window, my stomach in endless knots and fear my only companion as the door quietly closed.
The first sign that something was wrong was the dress. The second was that no one came to decorate my face nor do my hair.
And as the sun dipped low and the stars began to sprinkle across the darkening sky, apprehension stilted my movements when I finally donned the gown.
A knock sounded.
Avrin entered my room a moment after, dressed in the regalia fitting for his high rank. The brown jacket was fringed in a dark forest green that matched the crest of a baneberry flower over his chest and the three stripes at his broad shoulders.
He eyed me up and down, his hands clasped behind his back. The posture and stance resembled my father far too much.
A father I hadn’t seen in days.
I pondered whether we’d get to talk before this ball. But as Avrin’s gaze dipped down my body, I became keenly aware of every shape and curve I was forced to put on display. “I believe I’m missing a slip, perhaps.” I laughed, but it was lacking in humor. “Or, at the very least, a cloak.”
Avrin didn’t speak as he crossed the room to where I stood.
My stomach squeezed at his silence and nearness, a nervous breath rattling free. “I need a minute. I still need to do something with my hair.”
His giant boots stopped, the toes almost kissing my bare ones. My eyes stayed there as Avrin leaned close to kiss my cheek, whispering, “I’m sorry, Princess.”
Thinking he was referring to the harsh words he’d thrown at me before he’d kissed me, I maneuvered a smile into place as I lifted my eyes.
It fell when he leaned back with tightening features reminiscent of the male I’d met the night Rolina had died.
A burning cold enveloped my wrist.
My gaze dropped as he seized the other, and I flinched from both the burn of the iron and to get away.
It was too late. Iron manacles encircled my wrists.
I glared up at him, horror filling my chest and my eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”
He reached into a pouch at his waist, and I knew before he pulled it free. I knew what would be blown into my face, and I stumbled back.
It made no difference. Even as I turned and covered my nose and mouth, the glittering dark flecks still reached me.
Avrin, at my back, gently tugged my hands down, the chains clanking. I screamed, but it fell into a whimper as I inhaled and blackness entered my vision.
Laughter and merriment cloaked like a faraway song.
My eyelids were heavy, gritty as I tried to keep them open.
I soon discovered I would have been better off keeping them shut. The room appeared in patches. A glowing chandelier dotted with orbs of fireflies twirled slightly from the stone ceiling.
Turning my head to the side, I startled.
Three males stood there, goblets in hand, gesturing to me while muttering, “beautiful” and “goddess-damned shame.”
The gown I’d donned, the gown I’d felt insecure about wearing for how much it revealed of my body, was now gone. And I’d have given anything to have it back.
I was naked.
Naked in a shining bronze cage barely wide enough for two males.
Red welts marred my wrists. The chains were gone, and they were unnecessary. The only method of escape appeared to be via the top, but the cage was so tall that I’d surely fail and only injure myself trying.
The door was latched closed with a golden padlock.
I shook it, my teeth clacking with the force of my desperation to wake from this insanity.
Just a nightmare.
Just a nightmare, I kept repeating, and if I made enough disturbance, then I could wake up and find myself—
A hand clasped my rear and squeezed.
I flinched, my knee banging into the metal cage, and pushed up to sit against the bars. Pointless. Males, and even some females, still ogled me while smirking and laughing. Their jeers and leering became a cacophony that buzzed like a swarm of bees in my ears.
The room swirled as my vision blurred with tears and excruciating fear. Not just any room, but a throne room. At the opposite end was a dais with two males atop it.
My father sat upon his throne. A crown of wreathed golden leaves glinted on his head.
Behind him, standing tall and proud and observant of all the guests flooding the room, was Avrin.
He’d chained me and stripped me of my gown, then caged me like an animal.
Why?
The question slammed into each corner of my mind. Trapped breath burned within my lungs, leaving me panting and dizzy. Bile crawled up my throat, and I pushed it down while closing my eyes.
A rasped male voice crooned to my ear, “Hello, pretty whore.”
I screamed and moved back, only to fall into the hands of another male on the other side of the cage. One of my breasts were clasped, pain screeching as I pulled free and the fingers refused to relinquish my nipple.
It was endless. Endless and barbaric and it couldn’t be real.
It just… it couldn’t be.
This ball of which was supposed to welcome me into my kingdom was nothing but a nightmare. It had to be—
“My fine and loyal friends.” Molkan’s voice boomed above the laughter and crass names hurled at me, and the room slowly descended into silence. “Our feature for this evening is finally awake.”
Had anyone touched me while I’d been asleep? How many people had seen me unclothed, helpless, and had… oh, goddess.
I curled into myself and vomited.
A male hissed his displeasure as it splashed through the bars and onto his shoes. He reached through them and slapped me.
My head crashed into the bronzed metal, and I slumped to the cage floor.
The king needn’t have yelled anymore.
He had the entire room’s attention as he said, “Some of you might think you know who this creature is, but let me make one thing abundantly clear.” There was an intentional pause before he declared, “She is no daughter of mine. She is a traitor.”
Murmurs and soft laughter arose.
I flicked damp strands of hair from my face. Rising, I looked across the room to the male who’d sired me.
“She is enemy-bound.” Molkan’s eyes met mine, empty and dark. “The secret wife of Florian Hellebore.”
Everyone gasped and shouted their outrage.
I flinched as wine was thrown at me. Spit followed, as well as fruit and goblets that clanged against the bars and punched into my skin. I cried out, but quickly muffled it behind clenched teeth when I realized reacting only encouraged more of them to torture me.
None of the pinching fingers, insults, and bruising blows hurt nearly as much as Molkan’s next booming declaration.
“This traitor was sent to our beloved kingdom to spy for her husband under the guise of wanting to escape him and to know her people, wanting to know me”—he laughed—“and under the guise of wedding one of our own loyal warriors, but we caught her.”
None of that was true. Not a single fucking word.
“No,” I croaked—would have screamed if only someone would have believed me. No one would, I knew, when they did not wish to.