Page 19 of Tricky Princess
A day in Hel was enough to change her, let alone almost two weeks. He worried for her mental state more than her physical. She was strong and powerful, but after her parents’ encounter and almost losing Sam, he was worried about how much she could take.
They would get through this; he knew they would. He could feel it in his bones and the depths of his depraved soul. There wasn’t any other choice, and this was only the beginning of the battles they would face together. Then came the ones she would face without him…
“Rosier,” Garm called, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Sorry, what?”
“Can you help start the fire?” he said, looking at him warily. “We are going to eat and then take shifts throughout the night.”
Ros nodded before looking back at the large setting sun. How many more days did he have with her?
8
Ellea
SECOND DAY IN HEL
Duhne walked her to her door and said he would be back in the morning for breakfast. He had matters to attend to on his side of the castle and mentioned something about messing with his cousin. Ellea laughed to herself as she strode through the sitting room. Duhne was so different, and she found herself liking him. If she could meld Ros, Devon, and Sam into one person, it would be him…with some added benefits. She didn’t know if she was going to poke the beast, mess with him some for all he said about her energy coming off as trouble. She could prove him wrong, or torture him and show how much trouble she could get into. A wicked smile graced her face as she opened the door to her room, then stopped quickly. The bed was made and the curtains drawn fully open. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried not to worry that someone was in here. Was that even possible? When she saw the king, she would ask him.
Ellea placed the small stack of romance novels on the bedside table and brought one with her to a chaise near the floor-to-ceiling window. The breathtaking view of mountains and valleys made it hard to be worried. How could an evil place be so open and bright? She ignored the endless questions floating in her head and opened the book. She’d only read the chapter title before a swoosh and thud sounded next to her. It was so loud that she screamed and jumped out of her seat. A stack of books appeared out of nowhere, and she hurried to steady them before they toppled off the table. Cursing the ancient librarian, she organized them into a neat pile, taking in the titles.
Some were basic history books and journaled accounts. Others were rules and patriarchy outlines. History seemed like a good place to start with her need to understand why things were separated. The patriarchy outlines would probably only make her mad. Ellea thought it would be best to hide the remaining books in the massive chest she’d been given to store things in. The massive skirts of an obscene dress seemed like a good place to hide them; there was no way she would be seen in something like that, but it should still serve some purpose.
It took forever to get through the first few chapters. It was so much harder than her typical spicy read and she found herself reading passages over again to better understand the history and stories the book presented to her. If only she had highlighters and paper to mark the areas and her thoughts. She felt there were things hidden in half-truths and metaphors. A giggle escaped as she envisioned the look on Viatrix’s face if she turned a book back to her all marked up. Her laugh was stopped when a knock sounded at the door. Standing quickly, she tried looking less suspicious. She changed the cover of the book to match one of the romance novels in her unhidden stack.
“Come in,” she called, heading toward the sitting room.
A woman waltzed into the room, her beautiful black dress swishing with each step she took. The detail was fascinating; gold thread twined from her elegant wrists and blended into the black cap sleeves. A crown of braids criss-crossed throughout her golden hair, pulling it from her beautiful face. Every part of her was petite, except her large golden eyes that glinted with mischief. It only added to her devilish smirk as she appraised Ellea.
She gave a shallow bow. “Ellea, I’m Florence.”
“Please don’t bow; I have no idea how to respond to it.”
“A simple nod will do.” Her voice was light and sharp like a dagger. “I will not stop bowing, and you will find many in the castle and realm will do the same.”
Ellea breathed out, rolling her eyes, and Florence chuckled softly before righting herself.
“Before I steal you away, I wanted to make sure you knew you could call me for anything you may need. I’m here to help guide you and serve in any way I can.”
“I don’t need a maid.”
“I am not a maid. I serve only the king because it is my will. That now extends to you and Prince Rosier—when he comes home.”
Ellea sucked in a breath at the mention of Ros. “Do you know him? I…I mean, did you know him?” She reached toward the woman, regretting this first encounter. “I’m sorry, this is a lot, and I haven’t had a chance to learn or understand anything. I didn’t mean to assume anything.”
“First, I was too young when Rosier was running around these halls to know him. As for the rest, that is why I’m here.” She brushed past her, heading to the bedroom. “The king would like you to join him for dinner so he may make sure you are comfortable and answer any of your questions. But I will always be here if you need to discuss anything.”
Florence opened up the chest where the books were hidden, pulling out a skirt and beaded top.
“If you’re not a maid, why are you choosing clothes for me?”
“Because I can, and I want to dress your curves.” She didn’t look back, only reached for shoes to match. “I’m quite jealous of them.”
Ellea was a little lost for words as she glanced at the outfit Florence had picked out. The skirt was paneled like the ones she had worn before. The sleeveless beaded top was something else, with gold and black beads twisted and whirled into beautiful detail. But it would leave her barely covered. The small woman came up behind her with a bralette to match; it had an excessive amount of straps.
“Perfect,” she said, reaching to pull Ellea’s sweater off.
She tried swatting her away, but before she knew it, she was topless and Florence was pulling at her leggings.
