Page 19 of Song of the Shadow Prince
Uncle Bai stood, his presence commanding even in the dim light. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip reassuring. “Damien, your future is not set in stone. You have the power to change it. And I will be here to help you every step of the way. We will find her, and you will claim your freedom.”
7
CAT
The following days were a blur of confinement and contemplation, trapped in the opulent Ryder residence while I tried to figure out a way back home. Obviously, the river wasn’t an option. At least I didn’t think so. Attempting it again was off the table for now. Maybe I needed to pinpoint the exact location where I’d been pulled through on the river. I had no idea.
I spent the last week hiding out in therealArya’s room, barely saying a word. I even took my meals there, though most of the vegetables and meat were unfamiliar and criminally under seasoned. And don’t get me started on the bathroom. Never in my life did I think I would be forced to use a chamber pot, yet there I was. The whole experience was extremely embarrassing and gross. I wish I knew something about plumbing so I could develop it here, but alas, traveling to another world woefully behind the times wasn’t in my bingo card this year.
I curled up on the hard-as-fuck mattress and wondered for the millionth time how I could possibly escape this predicament, but as usual, I came up empty.
Maeve and my so-called father were starting to worry. Especially since I refused to touch that concoction the healer prescribed. But come on, who knew what was in that stuff? I wasn’t about to take the risk.
Just then, the doors burst open and Maeve stormed in, her tiny hands jammed onto her hips. “Lady Arya!” she shouted. Her normally sweet face was beet red with exasperation. “I’ve had enough of this!”
I raised an eyebrow and sat up. “Oh?”
She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times like a fish out of water, clearly struggling with controlling her nerves. “Y-Yes! You’ve locked yourself in your room for too long. You need a bath and to get out of your nightgown!”
I lifted my arm and took a whiff under my armpit, then grimaced. Yikes, Ididsmell. “Okay… I don’t disagree with you,” I mumbled, leaning against the headboard with my knees pulled to my chest.
“And you need to take your medicine, my lady!” Maeve insisted. “Please, you’re not well!”
I sighed heavily and draped my arms over my knees. “Bring me the prescription. I want to see what’s in this medicine.”
Maeve hurried to my side and dug through the pockets of her dress, pulling out a folded parchment and handing it to me. I went through the list, which had a whole lot of stuff I didn’t recognize—ginseng, ginkgo biloba, ashwagandha… I knew what turmeric and sage were, and I think I’d heard of ashwagandha on TikTok, but the rest of the list was completely alien to me. For all I knew, they were poisoning me.
“What the hell is all this?”
“They’re herbs, my lady. Boiling them in water at the precise temperature directed by the healer and taken in the morning and before bedtime will help you recover your memories,” Maeve answered confidently.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have memory loss. I just wasn’t that diabolical Arya chick they all thought I was. I wondered if taking the medicine in my current predicament would hurt me or not… Truthfully, they seemed like natural herbs. So was the devil’s lettuce, but one puff of that had me higher than a kite. There was only one way to find out.
“Fine,” I relented. “I’ll take the medicine… but only at night. Not in the morning.”
“My lady,” Maeve whined, but I held up a finger to stop her.
“No buts. Either take my deal, or you get nothing,” I said firmly. I didn’t know how the medicine would make me feel, and I would rather keep my wits about me throughout the day. Nighttime was safest.
She huffed, clearly displeased. “Fine. I’ll brew the medicine only at night.”
“Good.” I scrambled out of bed and languidly stretched. “Now, I need a bath and some fresh air.”
Maeve’s eyes lit up with relief. She bustled around the room, gathering towels and directing the servants to prepare a bath. “Would you like me to contact the ladies and schedule a teatime? They’ve been inquiring why you haven’t met with them all week. There’s only so many excuses I can make, my lady.”
“Who?” I scrunched my face at the idea of teatime.
“Lord Albert and Lord George’s daughters. They’re your friends,” she replied mindlessly as she gathered clothes from the armoire.
I grimaced. “And what do I do with these… ladies?”
“Gossip.”
I scoffed. “No thanks.”
“Fine,” she grumbled as she ushered me out of the room. “But sooner or later, you need to return to your art classes.”
I stumbled over my feet in my haste to look at Maeve, horror painted across my face. “Art classes? Jesus Christ, I can barely draw stick figures!”
