Page 28 of Malicent
The space is larger than I expected, larger than anything I’ve ever had. A four-poster bed, its frame deep mahogany, sits against the left wall, swallowed in a thick pine-green blanket. Across from it, a red velvet sofa rests before a gray stone fireplace, its hearth empty but grand.
The balcony doors are wide open, letting the crisp air rustle the edges of the heavy curtains. Golden light spills across the floor, cast by a massive chandelier overhead, its arms curling like gilded branches.
My footsteps are muffled by the handwoven wool rug covering most of the space. Intricate designs of red, yellow, green, and blue are stitched into the fabric.
I take it all in, my mind already set on one thing: I’m going to drag that sofa out here.
“Maybe we should muzzle you.”
Cage’s voice is a poison, laced with amusement. I hear the smirk in it before I even turn.
I ignore him, stepping onto the balcony and gripping the railing, staring out over the vastness of the forest below. The treetops shift in the wind, dark and stretching far beyond the castle’s borders.
At least out here, I can breathe. I will be out here a lot.
“King Tyran has arranged an introductory dinner for you,” he says, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly detached tone. “You’ll meet others involved with the situation in the North.”
I turn, finding his silver gaze already on me.
He will always be watching, just like Nora’s owl.
That will be a problem. Once we know what the North is up to, if I am to get what I came for, I’ll have to learn how he fights, how he thinks, and what he fears.
Because one day, when they realize I was never here to help them, I will kill him.
Just like he killed my family that night.
Cage’s smirk sharpens. “Do try not to bite anyone at dinner, yeah? Who knows what diseases you might pass.”
With that, he pushes off the door frame and strides away, leaving me alone in my room.
I flip him off.
Muttering curses under my breath, I shut the door, rubbing my temples.
For my first day, he sure is testing me, and restraint is not something I practice often.
A prickle runs down my spine.
A presence.
I lift my head and freeze.
There. Perched on the iron railing of my balcony, its gaze fixated on me.
Nora’s owl.
Its copper eyes reflect the light. Its gaze is unrelenting as though soaking in every moment. It sees everything.
She sees everything.
“Ah, there you are. I’m behaving,” I murmur, cocking my head at the owl.
It doesn’t react. It simply watches, recording, absorbing, and transmitting every movement, breath, and thought Nora might find useful.
I wave lazily, flicking my fingers at it, before turning away and plopping down on the sofa. The velvet cushions soften my landing, but the weight of the owl’s gaze still presses against my skin.
I want to ask it. I want answers. Does she know Cage is here? Has she been watching him, too? Does she know what I know?
