Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1)(16)

Finally, Midas tips his head, like he’s deigning to give her this win.

“You heard the queen,” he says to Polly, flicking a hand at the saddle. “Your presence is uncouth. You are dismissed.”

Polly doesn’t have to be told twice. She turns and hurries out of the room as fast as her bare feet can take her, not even stopping to leave the wine pitcher behind.

Now that Malina has gotten rid of Polly, her gaze moves to me. The glare she bestows on me is cold enough to rival our winters. And that’s saying something, because we once had a blizzard that lasted twenty-seven days.

“You shouldn’t leave your shiny toy out during the war meetings, husband,” Queen Malina says with a scathing look.

I purse my lips, forcing myself to stay quiet.

She turns back to her husband, ignoring the rest of the men in the room. “May I speak with you?”

His gaze glints with irritation, but it’s clear she isn’t going to leave without talking to him. “Excuse me,” Midas says to the others before turning to walk out of the room with the queen on his heels.

King Fulke claps him on the back as he walks by. “Females, eh, Midas?” he says with a condescending chuckle.

The queen’s hands fist into the skirt of her dress, but she says nothing as they leave to speak in the hall.

Well, now’s my chance. No way am I going to hang around here and give Fulke a chance to mess with me. On silent steps, I turn and hurry out of the room, slipping through the archway and rushing down the dark hall.

“Where’d she go?”

Fulke’s annoyed words just make me go faster. I’m an idiot, though, because in my hurry to get the hell out of there, I went for the closest archway, which means I’m heading toward the atrium instead of my personal rooms. Oh, well. I can hide out there until Midas is back or Fulke is gone.

Reaching the atrium, I breathe a small sigh of relief as I walk through the archway, greeted by the bars of my confinement in the large, dim space.

With a quick glance up, I see that the dome ceiling is completely covered in snow today, just as I knew it would be, making everything seem more claustrophobic. Every single window is weighed down with frigid gray light that does nothing to lessen the tangles in my stomach. I was hoping for just a glimpse of the sky, but I’m out of luck.

Bright side? At least the bed that Midas used last night has long since been removed. One less thing to sour my mood.

I trail my fingers along the gilded ivy vines lying against the glass walls, my slippered feet padding across gleaming floors. All around are plants and statues of solid gold on display. It’s a mass of weighty wealth all in one spot.

Gold is everywhere throughout the entire palace, but for some reason, it seems obscene in this room. Maybe it’s all the blocked windows, making it feel vulnerable to the desolate outdoors. Or maybe it’s just that not even the plants were left untouched. Midas might look around and see riches, but I look around and see a graveyard.

I head to the other end of my cage, aiming for the pile of pillows and blankets on the floor. With the ceilings being as high as they are, and the room itself being so massive, it’s freezing in here. Even with the two huge fireplaces taking up either end of the room, it’s not enough to leak out much warmth.

I kick a couple of the pillows to get them where I want them and then sit down, grabbing one of the blankets to pull across my lap. I might as well—

The door at the front of the room suddenly swings open, making me jolt in place.

“And you thought it was so important that you had to interrupt my meeting, Malina?”

I freeze for a half second, realizing that the king and queen came in here to talk.

“Your meeting?” Malina snaps. “Tyndall, how could you launch an attack against Fourth Kingdom without telling me?”

Divine shit.

If they catch me… I shudder, and it has nothing to do with the cold. I need to get out of here now.





Chapter Seven





The king and queen come farther into the atrium, their footsteps echoing like tiny snaps of a whip. There’s no way I can get back through the doorway without them seeing me. They’re coming closer, and it’s only the few potted plants that are keeping me hidden.

At least I blend in with the decor. Bright side.

Slumping down, I lie on my stomach and cover myself in the blanket, doing my best to look lumpy and less person-y as I try to hold perfectly still.

“I don’t answer to you, Malina. I’m the king, and I rule as I see fit.”

“You deliberately left me out of this. You told me the army was moving out to run offense tactics,” she spits.

“They are,” Midas replies with a blasé tone.

I hear her scoff. “If we’re going to war, I should be consulted. Highbell is my kingdom, Tyndall. The Coliers have ruled it for generations,” she snaps back with vehemence. My brows rise in surprise at her daring.

“And yet, you’re the first child in the Colier family bloodline that inherited no power,” Midas retorts, his strong baritone echoing throughout the space. “Not only did you not develop any power, your family also dried up every last drop of coin in your coffers. This land was bankrupt before I came. You’d still be a ragged princess with a mountain of debts and no prospects if it weren’t for me. So don’t try to tout that Highbell is yours. You lost it the moment I walked up to your gates.”