The carriage bumped along as it forced its way up the twisting hills, each curve carrying me farther out of the illumination of the city and into the darkness of Noctis. My wrists still hurt but they are no longer being pulled by guards. They did not even lie on my lap but trembled in spite of my attempts to hold them.
The Shadow King sat on the other side in silence. He was looking at her, his crimson eyes lighting coldly in the dim lantern light and unreadable. He hasn't been talking since he told me about my bloodline. I could feel his eyes on me like a burden, as though he were stripping away all my disguises and all the dignity I tried to hold on to.
I would have liked to avert my eyes. I would have liked to breathe. But I made myself look him in the eye, though my heart was beating like a drum. I would not be feeble
The carriage stopped at length. I saw the fortress above the window. The castle appeared to be part of the cliff, the black rock walls protruding like teeth, the towers seeming to reach up and claw at the bloody red moon. Shadows danced along the battlements like those that speak in the wind.
The horses came to a stop at huge gates carved with sigils that were unfamiliar to me. They throbbed lightly as we drew near and did not open on chains or wheels but on shadows that rolled in like smoke.
My breath was held back.
This place was not constructed—it was created
The carriage drove into the courtyard. Scores of armored men bent in the deepest reverence, their visors down. None stared at me. Their heads were bent toward him; their fear was concentrated on his person.
The door was opened. His hand stretched out towards me again, but patient and commanding.
Although I was reluctant, I placed my hand in his. Warmth radiated from the glove, pleasantly warm yet frightening. He assisted me down his hold, being solid enough to remind me that he had no inclination of releasing me.
We passed into the castle.
The doors have rumbled to a close. Within, torches flared with silver fire and flung their shadows along interminable chains of obsidian. The air was cool and sweetened with a little myrrh and something dark and metallic, almost like blood.
Each step resounded. All the corners were watching.
Interruption I had first broken the silence. "Why have you brought me? Why not put me in chains, like the rest?"
His step never stumbled. "Since you are not like the others."
My anger was aroused. "You purchased me as if I were an object."
At that he ceased. Slowly he turned and his hood pulled aside enough to reveal more of his face. He was hard-featured, chiseled in the dark and steel, his mouth set in the slightest, most deadly smile.
"I did not buy you," he said softly. "I claimed you."
I held my breath. I despised the way the words shivered through me, and I despised how my body had betrayed me with heat rising up my neck. I made my voice calm. "And what will you do with me, Your Majesty? Train me as a pet? Break me, like a horse?"
Silence for a moment. Then he drew nearer and his eyes flashed.
"No, Princess. I would make you learn what you really are."
Ere I was able to reply; the motion drew my eye. Servants came out of the darkness bowing. Their faces were pallid, their gaze was low, and their silence was complete. No whispering, not even the sound of footsteps. The castle itself seemed to require silence.
He conducted me up a great staircase carpeted in crimson. The farther up we went the less the air seemed to hold and the more it seemed to press against my chest with invisible hands. My knees shook but I did not falter.
At length we came to a pair of doors. Black wood with lines of silver. The runes carved into them throbbed slightly, as though they were a heart.
He thrust them open.
The inside was a room that I had not imagined in any way at all
Drapes of midnight blue hung down in velvet folds. In the middle was a huge bed of carved obsidian, the sheets of black silk. Candles were burning everywhere, and the light of them fell upon the walls, on which were strange and changing signs.
And my stomach turned. This… is my room?"
He looked at me. "No. This is my own."
The words were like a blade.
I withdrew a step, rattling chains. "If you think—"
He lifted a hand, and the chains on my wrists clanged open. The runes faded away, leaving angry red marks on my skin.
"You are not my prisoner," he said, in a low, steady voice. Not unless you will be.
My throat closed up. "And what if I leave?"
"You will not." He moved nearer so that I could feel the warmth of him. "Since the outside world will eat you before the sun rises behind these walls, hunters will be attracted to your strength, and I am the only one who can teach you to survive it."
My heart pounded, half with anger, half with terror, half with rebellion, and half with something I did not dare to call. His presence was overpowering, his words were frightening, and yet there was a part of me that believed him.
I despise that I trusted him.
He stretched his hand to me and his gloved fingers touched the marks on my wrists. I flinched, but he did not grip me this time. His fingers remained, tracing the sting of the runes.
"You will remain here tonight," he said. "Not as a slave Not yet, a queen. Yet as mine."
The words wound around me like chains that no one can see but that cannot be broken.
My voice was little more than a whisper. And what if I refuse?"
His red eyes glared at me. Then I will not touch you But the shadows will. They always do."
The room grew darker; the wavering candle light gulped down a beat and came back. I felt the prickling of unseen eyes and the touch of whispers on my ears.
I was hugging myself and breathing shallowly.
He moved away, leaving me room. He had never looked so much like a king as he did now, yet in a way he looked less like a king than anything.
"It is up to you, Princess," he replied and turned to the bed. But take this to heart: the more you fight each night, the hungrier the shadows become.
He took off his cloak and placed it on a chair. His tunic hugged his broad form, and scars could be seen on his arms, an eerie glow to them as though they were carved by magic itself.
I wrenched my eyes away, my cheeks flaming.
I despised him. I was afraid of him. And there was no avoiding one truth as we closed the door and the castle whispered its unseen voices.
I was fettered to him.
This was the first night only, it was.