Page 49 of The Princess of Nothing
After a minute, he opened them again. “She is either cloaked, dead, or destiny will not show me her either.” He scowled at the ceiling.
“Perhaps you’re losing your curse,” I snarked. After all, he had said it wasn’t a gift and didn’t seem happy whatsoever.
“If that is true,” he replied in all seriousness. “Then pray for my soul when Xenos learns of it.”
“What’s your name?”
“Magnus.”
“If you’re ever in need of a change, I hope you would consider Magaelor. There, we regard seers in the highest of esteems,” I said earnestly.
“If our kingdoms join, then I would consider it.”
On that note, I left, feeling a little heavier than when I’d entered. Morgana was either dead or cloaked. I wished for the latter.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When I closed my eyes, I was back in the cage. The bars tinged my skin red, blistering over old sores that never got to heal. Puss drained down my arms when I sat upright. I wanted to lie down and rest my head, but the sun beat down on me, unrelenting in its heat. Snakes slithered along the sand and stone, and scorpions crawled into the cages of unsuspecting prisoners, their tails poised to sting.
I gasped for air, suddenly desperate to get out. Those moments rushed back every now and then, in between thoughts of giving up, as if my body were reminding me that I needed to survive. I gripped my aching fingers around the bars, screaming for someone, anyone, to save me.
My eyelids fluttered open to the dim lights of the lamps, flickering flames onto the shadows on the walls. Kneading my fists into the blankets, I looked around. My room had subtle differences than where I was. The tables were in the wrong place, the painting of a landscape hung crooked—inches to the left of where it usually did—and the window was the wrong shape.
“You’re dreaming.” Cedric’s voice bounced around me.
I whipped my head around. He was leaning against the door with an uncertain smile on his face but then hurried toward me. We met in the middle, both of our arms stretched outward, and grabbed onto one another as if we hadn’t seen each other in years. It sure felt like we hadn’t.
“How do you know what my room looks like?” I questioned.
“It was your dream. I simply came in and made it ours.” He let out a weighted sigh, resting his head against mine. “How are you doing?”
“Kiros is in love with me,” I blurted. “He thinks he is anyway.”
He pulled me to arm’s length, his gold gaze searching mine. “How do you know this?”
“He told me.” I blew out a long exhale. “I didn’t mean for it to happen; I just did what you told me to. I gained his trust.”
