Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(75)
He drove into her, spurred on by her nails digging into his buttocks and her mewls of pleasure. Losing himself in her skin, her scent, her cries, he could almost outrun the gloom of what was to come.
Afterward, she lay in his arms stroking his skin, not seeming to mind the sweat and stickiness after so much exertion. He held her tightly against him, as tight as he dared without crushing her. For even though she had been right with him the entire evening, a voice in the back of his head told him she was slipping away.
Jasminda awoke alone. It was just as well. She would rather remember Jack as he was last night, holding her close, whispering how much he loved her. She had already said good-bye to him with her body. His words of love would strengthen her in the days and nights to come, through whatever the future brought.
She scoured her wardrobe until she found her own dress, the one she was wearing when she had arrived. It had been washed and pressed and was the only thing she truly owned here. She grabbed the serrated knife she’d managed to nick from her dinner tray and strapped it to her thigh using one of the garters supplied with the palace clothing. After stroking the fine fabrics one last time, she snuffed out the fledgling hope they could ever truly be hers. The dream of a life surrounded by beautiful things and beautiful people who loved and accepted her was a fantasy that would never come true. The impossibilities only strengthened her resolve to leave, no matter the fractures and fissures forming on her heart.
Jasminda would never be a princess. There was a residue of dirt under her fingernails that could never be scrubbed away. Lizvette, on the other hand, was born for it. She hoped one day Jack would come to realize that.
She pulled on her sturdy coat, buckled her boots, and took a final look around—the tapestries, the plush carpeting, the enormous bathroom, the soaking tub. Part of her wished she’d never come here at all. It was impossible to miss what you did not know. But she could not wish for a life without having met Jack, no matter the consequences.
The palace hallways were quiet. She made her way to the office nearest the vehicle depot and asked for Nash. Within a few minutes he appeared, a newspaper tucked under his arm. With a nervous glance to the paper, she wondered what today’s story was. Expecting accusation from him, she was surprised to find Nash’s green eyes twinkling at her, a warm smile on his face.
“Back to the camp again today, miss?” he said, tossing the paper in the wastebasket.
“No, I . . . I just need to get away from here.” She looked around and the sad truth descended on her. “I just don’t have anywhere to go.” She blinked, thinking hard. Could she try her grandmother’s house again and expect any less chilly of a reception? Unlikely. Vanesse had mentioned some secret place where people were discreet, but Jasminda didn’t know the location. She just needed a quiet spot to continue her work with the caldera until it revealed whatever additional secrets it possessed.
“Can we just . . . drive for a little while? Away?”
Nash’s face softened. “Of course.”
He opened the door leading outside and ushered her through. She matched his long stride down a row featuring an impressive array of vehicles to the town car he’d driven before. Just as he opened the rear door, rapid approaching footsteps caused her to turn.
Four Royal Guardsmen marched up, stiff and imposing.
“Miss,” one of the Guardsmen said as she backed toward the auto. “I need you to come with us.”
She had never before been summoned by the Royal Guard. Usher had brought messages from Jack, but he’d never sent anyone else. She cast a glance at Nash, whose brow was furrowed, before turning and following the Guardsmen back into the palace.
They descended a staircase, then followed a hall leading to another staircase. She wondered if Jack was visiting the chamber of the Queen Who Sleeps again, though this did not appear to be the route she’d taken before.
At the end of a sparse hallway, a fifth Royal Guardsman stood before an elaborate brass gate that he unlocked as they approached, then ushered them through. Jasminda froze when the iron bars of the dungeon cells came into view.
“What is this about?” she asked, whirling around.
The door to a cell hung open, and the Guardsmen all stopped walking, blocking every direction except into the cell.
“I’m being arrested?” Her gaze darted around the small space, sparse but clean. “By whose order?”
The young, bland Guardsman did not look at her as he spoke. “Miss, by order of Prince Jaqros you are remanded here for your own protection.”
“My protection? From what?”
“Please, miss,” he said, pointing to the cell.
“Why am I here? Why won’t you tell me?”
“Miss Jasminda,” a familiar voice said. Usher stepped out from behind the row of Guardsmen. “I assure you, this was not his first choice.”
“This is how he plans to stop me from leaving?” she whispered, shaking her head. “Treating me like a criminal?”
Usher’s voice was low. “There has been a threat made against you. And he doesn’t know who to trust. He’s trying to protect you.”
She shivered. Lizvette had hinted as much the night before, but an actual threat turned her blood cold. “Then perhaps I would be safer elsewhere. He should just let me go.”
With no other options, she stepped inside the cell and shuddered as the door clanked shut behind her.