Page 152 of The Nightmare Bride
“Of course.” As if I would be standing here, otherwise. As if I wouldn’t die before risking Amryssa. “Her safety comes first. Always. You know that.”
His jaw worked. “Fine. But I’ve sent Merron to sound the alarm, so you needn’t bother.”
The nightmare rumbled. I braced against a wave of vertigo while the seneschal did the same—his chest heaved as he swayed on his feet. Around us, shadows leapt, the darkness coming to life.
When reality finally stopped trembling, I gasped out, “But Merron should be chaining himself. Not dealing with the bells.”
As if on cue, a clang rolled down the hallway, then another, gathering strength until the peals rode atop one another. I imagined Merron working the heavy ropes, his arms flexing while sweat beaded in his brown hair.
Goddess, he needed to get to his room.Now.
“Don’t worry about him.” Olivian’s grizzled features hardened. “You have a different task, tonight. You’ll go downstairs and await Amryssa’s intended. Ensure the prince is safely secured.”
“I’ll...what?” Shit. Olivian might not be firing me, but I hadn’t escaped punishment, apparently. “But there’s no time. Kyven’ll have to take care of himself.”
Olivian glared. “I don’t pay you to argue, girl.”
“Pay me? You don’t pay me at all.”
“Don’t I?” His reddened eyes strayed to the weapon at my belt. “You realize I could give that dagger to someone else, don’t you?”
I flinched, though I knew what Olivian saw when he looked at me—no one special. No one of worth. Just a stubborn, foul-mouthed girl with a mean streak, who Amryssa had chosen as her protectress for some inexplicable reason.
In fairness, I couldn’t argue. I knew I didn’t deserve her. Or this house, shabby and faded as it was. Nor did I deserve the weapon at my waist, which granted me abilities I’d never earned.
But without those things, my life would amount to nothing, so I wouldn’t relinquish the dagger unless I had to.
“Look,” I said, reining in my frustration. “Why don’t I go wait on my balcony? I’ll call down, tell the prince how to chain up. But I won’t go outside. Not even Amryssa could ask that of me.”
“Kyvenmustsurvive this nightmare. He must marry my daughter.”
“Right. So you’ve said. Without once asking Amryssa how she feels about it.”
Olivian’s eyes slitted. A feverish glint festered there, one that never guttered out, even between nightmares. “I don’t need to. I’m her father. I decide what serves her best.”
I ground my teeth, but again, I couldn’t argue, if only because his reasons for this hare-brained match escaped me. I could guess the king’s motives easily enough—a decaying estate on the southernmost fringes of civilization offered the perfect exile for the youngest and most sadistic of his sons. But what did Olivian stand to gain? Political favor? Money to revive Oceansgate’s dwindling coffers? A means to shackle Amryssa to this place by looping yet another chain around her ankle?
I had no idea, and the seneschal refused to explain.
“Enough.” Warning dripped from Olivian’s words. “Go. Now. If the prince dies, I’ll hold you responsible.”
A feral smile worked its way across my lips. If the prince died, I’d welcome any punishment. “Fine. Works for me.”
Olivian hesitated, thrown by my agreement. Around us, shadows coalesced to threatening dark pools. Ghostly shapes oozed at the periphery of my vision. Something with a dozen too many legs skittered along the baseboards.
My stomach quivered. We needed to chain up, but this toxic pissing contest seemed more important than the demonic energy piling in the hallway.
At least to me. Maybe not to Olivian—his focus jumped to something past my shoulder. Something I knew wasn’t actually there.
“You again.” He paled. “Haven’t I told you to leave me be?”
I grinned. “Time to go,” I said, sing-song.
Olivian turned to me with wild eyes, then rushed off.
My smile fell from my lips like it had dropped dead. I tried to hurry back the way I’d come, but thunder rippled, buckling my knees. I flung out a hand to steady myself, but the wallpaper turned sticky beneath my touch, sucking at my fingertips like a hungry mouth. I yanked myself away, my stomach roiling.
More thunder ruptured the air. This time, the sconce-lights ran together, and when they resolidified, the hallway curved downward instead of running straight.
