Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1)(19)

She sighs and shakes her head, her eyes darting to the snow-covered window. “I was a foolish girl then. A powerless royal with no way to rule on my own when Tyndall showed up.”

I watch her steadily, keeping very still so that my screaming scalp doesn’t get more abused than it already is.

“My father said Midas was a gift from the gods. A handsome vigilante with a romantic marriage proposal on his tongue and gold in his hands? It’s no wonder I happily went along with the proposal. He did seem serendipitous. Exactly the savior we needed. I didn’t even care that he kept you.”

My mind whirls as I try to think past the pain to focus on her words. I inwardly kick myself for getting caught. For not even being mindful enough of my surroundings to know that she was in here, waiting to pounce.

“All men have their vices, after all,” Malina tells me, her tone making it clear what she thinks of me. “Tyndall’s was making you into an heirloom. A caged orphan girl with gold-stained skin that he could show off and keep to himself. It’s garish and gaudy. But you were of no consequence to me then, and you’re of no consequence to me now. Do you know why?”

I clench my teeth together, anger warming the lids of my eyes so that each blink sears. My ribbons inch forward, slipping up the legs of the person holding me. I don’t want anyone to know that I can move my ribbons, but right now, my priority is my safety over my secret.

Malina and I have had a few run-ins in the past, but for the most part, we do our best to avoid each other. She’s never had me attacked before. This is a new reaction for her, and one I fear is the start of something more violent. I can deal with her disparaging comments and disdainful looks at my expense. But this? Having to fear that she’s hiding in the shadows, ready to punish me? The thought makes me shiver.

“Why?” I ask, when it’s clear she wants me to.

Malina’s eyes gleam. “Because you’re in there, and I’m out here.”

A simple statement, but one that bites into my heart with the vicious, snapping teeth of a beast.

Whatever she sees in my expression makes her smirk in victory. Her eyes move up to look at whoever is holding me. “You can release her.”

My ribbons immediately let go of the person, retreating back to the floor behind me.

My hair is released, and my face is given one more shove into the bars before I’m let go of completely. I grip the golden spires of my cage to keep from falling, my hand tenderly cupping my scalp as my eyes find the queen’s personal guard. The beefy, stern man has a jaw full of beard and eyes full of snide smugness. It takes everything in me not to let my ribbons come out and strangle him.

“Remember your place, saddle,” Queen Malina says, drawing my gaze back to her as she begins to walk away. “You’re just a pet for Midas to mount. A souvenir to show off.” She pauses at the doorway to look over her shoulder at me. “The next time I catch you spying, I’ll cut off your golden ears.”

My hands curl into fists. Bitch reverberates in my head as I glare at her, though I don’t dare say it.

Malina nods to her guard. “Make sure she heard what I said.”

I frown at her words as she walks out, but without warning, the guard turns and knocks his fist past the gap in my bars and sends it flying into my gut.

The impact makes me fall back onto the ground. I clutch my stomach in pain, coughing and trying not to vomit. “Did you hear the queen?” he grunts out from above me.

“I—heard—” I choke out, sending him a vicious glare.

“Good.”

Without another word, he turns and stomps out, the door closing quietly behind him.

Fucking Divine hell. I wish I hadn’t gotten out of bed today.

It takes a couple minutes of deep breathing before I manage to pull myself off the floor, but my stomach and scalp hurt so damn badly that I don’t bother lighting any candles. I stumble over to my bed. Bright side? At least the bars of my cage kept them from doing anything worse.

As soon as I lie on my bed, my ribbons curl around me, like silken sheaths that want to ward away the world. A cocoon hiding the caterpillar.

But I realize that it’s not Malina or her guard that keeps me awake well into the night. It’s not even my throbbing head or sore stomach. It’s the fact that my time is slipping away. Because soon, the armies will reach Fourth’s borders. And King Fulke will be collecting his payment.

Me.





Chapter Eight





I dread waking up.

Usually, that’s just because I’m not a morning person. I often have a wicked hangover from all the wine, so waking up bright and early is not my favorite. Plus, it’s not like I have any bright sunshine to greet me. I haven’t seen the sun’s rays in years.

But when the last of sleep slips away from me, I dread it even more than my usual passive disdain for mornings, because today, I know my time has run out.

I don’t know how I know this—maybe it’s a charge in the air. Maybe it’s the wicked wind outside my window—the Gale Widow shrieking her shrill lament. She’s warning me that the last of the sand in the hourglass has settled at the bottom like a stone in the sea, and I have no more grains to count.

My eyes peel open, and I stare at the window, shivering at the blurry ice distorted over the glass. I push the ribbons from my body, but groan from how sore I am. My scalp and stomach feel like one giant bruise from the vicious attention I received last night.