Page 128 of Artemysia
A hand squeezes my jaw, then a bitter liquid smelling of black mushrooms is poured between my lips.
I still can’t move or see, but Delphine’s fingers softly brush the hair from my face. The curve of her hips nestles beside me on the bed. Her rich, honeyed scent warms my blood, though it’s mixed with a different floral soap or shampoo. Did she bathe here? In another man’s room? Blinding rage begins to replace the numbness when I suddenly recall finding her naked when I burst in. Based on the guards I fought outside the door, I was certain it was Prince Toryl’s quarters.
Why was she naked in the prince’s room?
At this thought, her slender fingers part my lips. More mushroom liquid is poured down my throat, tickling it. I sneeze from the awful flavor, but finally regain control of my eyes and flick them open.
The male voice curses rudely. A young man with a crown.
Oh shit. I’ve sneezed the tonic all over the prince.
I blink and re-focus. He looks like a jerk, so I’m not sorry at all.
Delphine leans over me, lifting my lids to check my pupils. “Riev. Do you know where you are?”
“Are you hurt? Did you have sex with him?” My throat is raspy and raw.
Delphine frowns at me, the creases between her brows deepening.
She’s angry.
“He’s fine,” Delphine says wryly to the prince, who is gingerly toweling the tonic off his face and chest.
“Why were you naked—” I start again, the bullheaded ass that I am.
“Riev, I’m going to kill whoever drugged you, but you’d better not say another word about me being naked, or you’ll be next on my list. Are you okay? What happened to you?”
I haul myself up the headboard and slump against it. I’m still spinning. My legs prickle as if jabbed by thorns, the feeling returning to them.
The prince glares at me, stern and cold, his arms folded across his broad chest. He’s so tall. He’s handsome, young, boyish. Did Delphine get information—trade information—for sex?
I’m disgusted at myself for imagining such a thing, but they would look good together. Who can resist a fucking prince like that?
I’m not thinking straight.Fucking get it together, Riev.
Delphine breaks through my rapidly spiraling thoughts before my fists turn into tight balls of violence.
“What do you remember?” she asks.
“Sylvi and Kye,” I grumble, rubbing my temples.Old mewould have hunted them down and destroyed them, limb by limb.
New meprioritized finding Delphine first, and acknowledged that she wouldn’t have wanted me to murder the hell out of those two.
“You left the ballroom with two royals,” Delphine prompts.
“They gave me scotch. Drugged. Hoped I was Syf.”
“Effin’ hell.” Delphine’s gasp startles me, and a hand goes to her mouth. She isn’t normally this outwardly reactive in front of strangers. She’s comfortable around him.
I mash down the overwhelming urge to strangle the prince.
The prince curses. “Those two. My cousins are obsessed with Syf. And too damn spoiled. The king never reprimands them.” He paces before us. “You’ve seen the trophy room, then. That’s where my father interrogates lords or barons he believes are lying to him. All the drinks are laced with potions.”
I tip forward but almost topple out of the bed. Delphine steadies my shoulders against the headboard. “I made it downstairs to findyou, but was told the prince took you.” I glare up at the prince. “If you even so much as touched her, I swear to the gods—”
“And you thought to rescue her by fighting through my guards, breaking down my door,” the prince says bitterly, tipping a chin at the new guards at the doorway. They eye me nervously, blades drawn. “Even in your half-witted state. You’re an impressive imbecile. You didn’t care about the consequences.”
I bristle, the hairs on my neck rising. “For my wife, yes. I’d do anything,” I say firmly, studying Delphine. I need to know she is okay. I need her to understand I had a plan. Infiltrating those closest to the king for information.
