Chapter 12

12

T he next day, we start back toward the castle. I explain the change in plan to Zadyn, and I can see the immediate relief wash over him. I ride with him this time, but it doesn't make for a less awkward dynamic as the three of us slowly make our way back.

One thing Jack and Zadyn at least agree on is that we take the long way back— around the Bone Forest.

A two-day trip.

No bathrooms, no beds, just the fabulous outdoors.

I hate to admit it, but as the shimmering castle appears in view, catching the sunlight with crystalline magnificence, I feel relieved. Soon, so soon, I will be off this damn horse. I just pray that my ovaries haven't been damaged beyond repair.

We reach the front gates and are relieved of our horses. I can barely feel anything from the waist down. But my thigh seems to be holding up.

"I'll speak to the king this evening, and we'll find you alternate sleeping arrangements. Rest today, witch. I'll come find you," Jack says as we make our way up the alabaster stairs leading to the massive arched doorway. I stare after him as he goes. Zadyn's hand on my shoulder snaps me back to reality, and I follow him to Gnorr's infirmary to have my leg inspected. It takes under five minutes for her to clean the wound with a strong astringent and heal it up completely.

When I hear a knock on my door the next morning, I expect to see a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Igrid on the other side. I swing it open, a bed-headed hot mess, to find Jack waiting there instead. He greets me with a quick once over and a gruff order to follow him.

Back to his grouchy self, I see.

I quickly slip my shoes on and slide my phone into my back pocket while Jack's back is turned. I doubt it will be of any use to me here, and it's on ten percent battery, but it's the only thing I have from home.

Zadyn walks beside me, no longer bothering with the whole cat act.

"I take it the king agreed to my requests?" I ask as we make our way out of the servant's quarters and into a pristine hallway with marble floors so reflective I can see myself in them. We stop in front of an ornately carved wooden door. Jack steps through and holds his arm out.

"I trust the accommodations will be to your liking."

"Holy shit," I breathe, stepping inside. The room is bigger than my whole apartment in Jacksonville.

A canopied four-post bed with a luscious, lilac-colored comforter and matching pillows rests against the wall to my left. My fingers glide over the intricate vines carved into the whitewashed bedpost as I take in the rest of the room. Dazzling sunlight spills through the massive arching windows above a plush, plum-colored nook perfect for reading. As I glance up at the ceiling, my breath hitches at the hand-painted sky of whimsical whorls spattered with diamonds. They look like twinkling stars swirling around the giant amethyst chandelier in the center of the room. The space is complete with cozy puffs, pillows, and floor cushions scattered about the ornate carpet.

"The washroom is through there." Jack nods to one of the doors to the right, behind the dining table for four.

"What's in here?" I ask, making my way to the door beside it.

"It's an adjoining suite," he says, glancing at Zadyn. "For you. I didn't think it wise to keep a familiar too far out of reach."

"Thank you, that was very considerate," Zadyn says tightly, begrudging every word of gratitude. I fight a smile, secretly thriving on their little drama.

"It's lovely, Jack," I say before I can stop myself. My hand flies to my mouth. "I'm sorry. I meant Captain."

"Jace," he says, and I think he might be blushing. He quickly lowers his eyes and then brings them back up to mine. "My name is Jace."

"Right, of course," I say quickly. Jace. He gives me a sharp nod.

"I'll leave you to bathe and dress. The king has agreed to speak with you this afternoon. I'll have Sir Maxim escort you."

"Thank you," I say, locking eyes with him. "Truly."

He gives me another one of his curt soldier nods and moves to the door.

"You'll be there, right? For the meeting?" I sound a tad too hopeful. Like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I'll be there." He bows this time and closes the door behind him. As I turn to face Zadyn, I'm surprised to find him already looking at me.

"Not bad, right?" I twirl around, gesturing to the obscenely beautiful room. "I severely underestimated my negotiating skills. "

"I don't think they'd work half as well without your charm," he teases.

"I want to see yours." I start to move toward Zadyn's room when a petite fae female in a servant's dress enters with a small curtsy.

"Hello, my lady. My name is Pertha. I'll be attending you."

"Oh, hi. I'm Serena. It's nice to meet you."

Pertha smiles shyly without fully meeting my eyes.

"I'll run your bath, my lady," she says before hurrying off to the bathroom.

"Oh, it's just Serena, not my lady!" I call out, but she's already disappeared.

"I'll leave you to it," Zadyn says, pressing his palms together and retreating toward his room. Taking another glance around my new living space, I let out a tiny squeal. I cannot wait to sprawl out on that bed.

The bathroom looks as if a spa and temple had a baby. It's massive. Floor-to-ceiling cream-colored marble. And the bath, oh my god . It's the size of a jacuzzi and could easily fit six people. College party girl Serena would have been all about this.

Pertha stands beside the steaming water, holding a towel folded in her arms.

"I'll take this," I say to her, placing the towel down on the stunning cut of marble vanity. "Thank you, Pertha."

She doesn't move.

"I can take it from here." I smile gently. "Thank you."

"Yes, my lady." She bows her head. "I'll be outside to help you dress."

"It's just Serena," I call after her as she closes the door behind me. "That's gonna take some getting used to."

I strip and step into the inviting waters. My eyes drift closed as I lean my head back, gulping down greedy lungfuls of lavender and eucalyptus bath salts. The massive window before me offers a gorgeous view of a shimmering city in the distance. I make a mental note to explore it.

If I stay here.

Even though everything is so fucked right now, I can almost pretend that I'm on vacation at a five-star hotel in the Swiss Alps. All of it feels too good to be true. And that's probably because it is.

I stay in the bath until my fingers are pruned, marveling at how relaxed I now feel. My heart isn't anxiously racing. I'm not in fight-or-flight mode. I'm oddly calm.

I dry off, slipping into the champagne-colored silk robe hanging on the door, and dare a look in the mirror.

It's still me, but I seem lighter. Like there's a sunny aura around me. Same wavy chocolate brown hair that falls over my chest. Same brown eyes and button nose. My skin is still slightly tan from the Florida sun, making the freckles on my cheeks and nose even more accentuated. Tucking my wet hair behind my ears, I step out into the bedroom.

"So, what does one wear for a meeting with a king?" I ask Pertha. She moves to the armoire with modest grace and sifts through the choices.

"Here are some of the less formal options, my lady."

I don't bother to correct her this time. My eyes skip over the long, flowing skirts and shimmery materials.

"These are less formal?" I laugh. Pertha lays them out on the bed as Zadyn enters the room, his caramel-colored hair still glistening from his own bath. He pushes the wet strands from his face and locks eyes with me.

He looks good. Clean and fresh and inhumanly handsome in a close-cut brown jacket over a cream-colored tunic, dark pants, and boots that reach past his calves. He approaches the bed with the laid-out dress options .

"Help. I'm not used to these clothes," I tell him, toying with the frills on a baby pink number. "Fae wear this stuff every day?"

"High Fae in the king's court, yes," he says with an apologetic look at Pertha, who seems uninterested.

"Well, I'm a witch, so do you guys have any denim?"

Zadyn rolls his eyes and moves past me to select one of the dresses from the bed. He holds it up to my chest, tilting his head as he studies me methodically.

"This one. It's the least feminine."

"Uh, alright," I say incredulously. Pertha moves to the wardrobe to fetch a pair of heeled boots as Zadyn lowers his voice and explains, "You're a Blackblood. You don't want to go there in pastels and ruffles. No one will take you seriously. Something more subdued, more mature, is better."

The dress is a deep, rich eggplant shade. It's simple, compared to the frills of the others. Clean lines, fitted long sleeves—mature. Not girlish at all.

I begin to undo my robe, and Zadyn's hand flies to shield his eyes.

"A little warning." He stalks away to sit on the window seat with his back to me.

"Oh, relax. You've seen it all before, Annie . Spring break, Panama City."

"I didn't see anything. We were in the water," he grumbles, staring out the window at the frosted mountains beyond the glass.

"Did you like having a woman's body? I'm sure the boobs were a fun little bonus."

He groans, turning beat red. "Can we not, please?"

"Let me have my fun! I'm just beginning to come to terms with the fact that my best girl friend was actually a guy all along. The same girl friend who I skinny-dipped with on more than one occasion. Oh, and then there was that time we played truth or dare at the soccer team's party when we had to?—"

"Serena." The warning in his voice cuts me off, but I see the flush of red creeping up his tan neck. I can't help but chuckle at how easily embarrassed he is.

Pertha slides the gown over my head and begins to fiddle with the laces of the bodice. The dress fits me like a glove, hugging my arms, chest, and waist. The square-cut neck is modest, but sensual somehow, showcasing the length of my throat and the line of my clavicle. Pertha slips my middle fingers through the little loops at the end of each sleeve, then ushers me to the vanity to comb through my damp hair.

"I can do it, Pertha. Thank you." Taking the comb from her, I begin to run it through my ends. She curtsies lightly and exits the room.

"I don't suppose you have anything like texture spray in your strange little fae world?"

Zadyn barks a laugh, his arm dangling over his drawn-up knee.

"It'll never dry in time for this meeting. I'm going to go in there dripping like a wet dog."

He snaps his fingers once and I gape at my perfectly dried waves in the mirror.

"Neat trick," I say in wonder. "Can you touch up my highlights, too?"

"Don't push it," he warns mildly.

On the vanity is an assortment of cosmetics in little glass tubs and bottles. I dust some pink over my cheeks and dab my lips with a red-tinted lip stain, blotting them together in the mirror. Once I lace up my boots, I stand with my arms outstretched and give a quick twirl.

"How do I look?" I ask. "Fit for a meeting with dear old dad? "

Placing his feet on the ground, Zadyn turns to examine me.

"Perfect," he says.

A knock sounds from the door.

"Come in," I call.

The door opens to the wicked grin of a red-haired soldier. Sir Max stands tall and proud, bright green eyes twinkling with roguish mischief. He etches a low bow and says in that warm husky voice, "The king will see you now, my lady ." His words are a light tease as he takes a waiting step back into the hall.

I glance at Zadyn and take a big breath, readying myself to go head-to-head with my father.