Page 7 of Prize for the King
I turn my gaze away, my fingers spasming around the hand holding mine. The Agnidari squeezes back, and I shake my head, even more confused, more frustrated.
“Why are you being kind to me?” I ask, my voice pitched too high, ringing too loudly in the silence enforced by our invaders.
Some Agnidari make sounds, low, hoarse guffaws and huffs. My guard looks at me, face serious, even though his voice is light.
“It’s only common sense to be kind to my future queen, don’t you think?”
I blink at him, then at my father, who screams into his gag, then at the Tyrant who strides in through the open doors, dragging Father Saius by the scruff of his golden robes.
“Got the priest.”
I hiccup, a swarm of insects taking flight in my stomach. I feel sick, because somehow,I know.Only… I can’t articulate what it is that I know except there’s no easy death for me today, that’s certain. The gods have failed me, like they always do.
“Please,” I whisper, turning to my guard, the only person who showed me a semblance of comfort in this room. “Please, what’s happening?”
He grimaces, the tips of his teeth showing, and a new wave of terror pounds through me until my knees shake. My breathing is too fast, too audible. I’m dizzy.
“Get me the princess,” the Tyrant commands, his harsh voice causing a fresh bout of nausea. “We’ll wed before her father.”
Wed.My knees give way, and I remain standing only because my guard puts his arm around my shoulders before I collapse.
“Oh, gods. Any god. Please,” I whisper, but my lips are numb, mythroat has closed, and no sound comes out.
“Can I speak with you, my king?” my guard says in a low, calm voice, his watchful eyes never leaving my face.
“Later,” the Tyrant growls, striding over. “The princess. Now.”
“I insist,” the blue-haired Agnidari says softly, and the Tyrant stops by his side, his eyes snapping to my face. “She’ll faint before she says the vows.”
The Tyrant turns away. I just catch the way his shoulders shake with tension or something else before my eyes cloud with more darkness. I’m breathing, I know I am, but it feels like there is no air.
“Take care of it,” the white-haired man growls before stalking away.
“Yes, my king.”
The world sweeps from under my feet. I gasp with the last of my air, and then I’m being carried, my body rocked with long, even steps as people and walls pass by, dreamy and unreal.
A stream of warm air caresses my face, and I choke, then heave in a deep breath, my first in what feels like ages.
“Good. Keep breathing,” comes the calm, quiet voice with a hint of accent.
“You… What…”
“Shh. Breathe. You’re doing very well.”
We’re somewhere darker now, quieter, and then, a door closes, and we’re plunged into complete darkness. A cry of alarm flies out of my sore throat.
“Wait a moment. I had it somewhere here…”
I’m jostled and shaken as he moves me to one arm and maneuvers with the other until a match ignites with a sizzle. The Agnidari looks awkward, too tall for this cramped space. He supports me with a single arm as if I am but a small sack, not a full grown woman. It’s beastly. Improper.
Impressive.
I am afraid, yes. My heart hammers, and traces of nausea still cling to the pit of my stomach. But I am no longer suffocating. His manner puts me at ease, which is ridiculous.
I’d laugh if I had the capacity. The only comfort I have had today was from an invader. Madness.
“What are we doing in a broom closet?” I ask when he lights a small candle and transfers me to both arms again, one supporting my back, the other under my knees. My feet dangle in the air, and I feel inexplicably light.
