Page 94 of To Wake a Kingdom

“I don’t work for Mare, Princess. Consider me an interested bystander.”

My gaze narrowed at him.

Maida’s attention was drawn to another group of Fae wandering past my cage. I growled at them, and they jumped back, squealing with glee. A menagerie. This was exactly what they came for. To see me behave like a wild beast. I slumped against the bars, the cold metal biting into my bare skin.

My insides were cracked, empty pools of nothing. Mare had taken everything, and now I was trapped here, completely at her mercy. I thought of the look on Ronan’s face when I’d kissed him goodbye, but I wouldn’t let him die to protect me. That demon would have ripped him limb from limb. Enough people had died for me already, and I would not be responsible for one more drop of spilled blood.

Was Ronan looking for me? If it had been the other way around, I would look for him forever. I’d never stop. But I hoped he couldn’t find me and was forced to give up. That Mare finally killed me, and he had no choice but to turn away and find happiness some other way. In time, he’d get over me. I’d meant what I’d said—I could endure anything if he was happy.

Maida watched me like I was a trunk full of secrets.

“What?” I snapped. “If you’re done gloating, feel free to fuck off. I’m sure you have someone else to torment.”

Tinkling music drifted over, and a large cart covered in candies, macarons, and sugared fruit rumbled past my cage. My stomach growled, and my mouth watered at the honeyed scent. Women in their cages looked down at the cart, their shadowed eyes hungry with longing. While they were clean, all wearing pristine floaty dresses like mine, they were also overly thin, their hair hanging limp and their cheeks hollow. Fear clutched my heart and stomped on my tender organs.

Fae strolled to the cart, handing over glittering coins as they filled paper cones with bejeweled treats. The woman in the cage next to mine gripped her golden bars so tightly her knuckles turned bloodless.

“What is this place?” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. I was going to die here. There was no question this would be the last place I’d ever call home.

Still leaning on my cage, Maida looked off in the distance, where the menagerie spread for miles beneath a clear blue sky.

“You’ll find out soon enough, Princess.” The words bore an edge of apology and that, more than anything, twisted my insides into something entirely unrecognizable. With one more look, he pushed himself off my cage and walked away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

That night, it rained. Huddled in the center of my cage, I tried to keep away from the splashes of water hitting the ground. Thunder rolled overhead. Shivering and cold, it was too dark to see the others. Above, cages creaked as the strong winds buffered the bars and, suddenly, I was grateful for my relatively sheltered place on the ground.

Tears mingled with drops of rain as I curled into myself, longing for Ronan. Longing for Ravalyn and my family. Longing for some other existence where none of this was real.

Ronan didn’t want to be a king, but at least we had been together. Just the two of us against the world. I thought of the first night we’d spent together in my grandparents’ chateau, letting the memory ignite the tiniest spark of warmth. Curling into it, I held on to it so tightly that my body ached in every corner. It was the only thing I had left.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Onthemarblefloorsat a small white plate with gilded edges, piled with colorful cakes and glistening morsels of fruit. Next to it was a large glass filled with pale yellow liquid, drops of condensation forming on the outside.

The storm had abated overnight when I’d drifted into a restless sleep and woken up damp and shivering. Pushing myself up, I scanned the world past my bars, sensing a trick.

The woman in the cage next to mine was still asleep, a similar meal lying next to her. My throat was raw with thirst, and I reached for the glass, gulping its contents, and then choked. Salt. As salty as a dead sea. Spitting and gagging, I spattered the front of my dress, soaking it in brine.

Desperate for something in my stomach, I reached for the plate of treats. Taking a tiny nibble of a purple frosted cake, I retched. It tasted of death and rotting, forgotten things. Like unhappiness mixed with flour and eggs, baked, and then served with ill intentions.

This wasn’t food—it was a game. My stomach rumbled and roiled, so I chanced another bite, just to have something in my body. I was so hungry. But as it touched my tongue again, I vomited up the scant contents of my intestines. Bile running down my chin, I wiped it away with the back of my hand and sank on my knees, dropping my head into my hands.

Other women stirred in their cages, and I watched when one shoved her meal between the bars as food and glass crashed to the stones below, shattering the quiet morning.

A cry of triumph erupted from the cage next to mine, where the woman was stuffing cakes in her mouth so fast she nearly choked. She chugged the glass of liquid, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Perhaps sensing my curious gaze, she glanced over, clutching the glass to her chest as though I could walk through my bars and take it.

“Once in a while, it’s real.” Her voice was dry and thin like autumn leaves. Tears shone in her eyes. She descended onto the food again, making noises like an animal, licking every last speck and every last crumb that had fallen to the floor. Unable to take my eyes off her as she wallowed in this ephemeral pleasure, I wondered how long it had been since she’d last eaten.

“Don’t worry, there are ways to earn it.” Maida stood before my cage again, large hands circled around my bars and head angled to the side. Glittering black eyes read me up and down. In his non-glamoured state, he was glorious—light brown skin, bright and gleaming as polished brass; the perfect lines of his face creating a vision the greatest artist in the world would spend his entire life trying to capture.

“How?” I asked, despite my better judgment.

“So eager, Princess? You think it will be easy? Or fun? Mare rewards those who give up something in return.” Malice laced his words, and my hands balled against my skirt.

“Give up what?”

He straightened his neck, pelting me with his gaze. “Your dignity, your morality, your humanity. Perhaps all of the above.”

I glanced back at the woman, wondering what part of her soul Mare had forced her to cut away for table scraps. She’d finished her food and was lying on the floor of her cage, arms wrapped around her body, rocking back and forth.

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