Shera led her to a narrow circular stairwell. They must be in the base of the tower she’d seen from the courtyard.
“Er where are we going?” she asked.
“My Lord told me you were to await him in his chamber.”
“So he did. And this is it?”
Shera nodded. Faith couldn’t tell whether she was happy or pissed off about that. Which was odd; the woman’s emotions hadn’t been hidden before.
“You are honored,” Shera said.
“I am. Of course I am.”
Well, at least it wasn’t the dungeon. Though maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad…
She followed Shera up a narrow winding staircase. Up and up.
“So do you like working for Ash?” Faith asked.
“It’s not as though I have a choice.”
“You don’t?”
“My family has always served the prince.”
“They have? So you don’t want to go anywhere else. Travel.”
“It hardly matters.”
There was a hint of bitterness in her words, and Faith could see why she might be a little bitchy at times. To be born into servitude didn’t seem fair.
Faith was glad she was fit; even so, by the end of the climb her legs were aching. They must be right at the top of the tower. Shera halted in front of a huge double door. There was also one opposite, which must lead to the outside. After pulling a huge iron key off the belt at her waist, she unlocked the doors and pushed them apart.
Faith gasped. “Holy freaking moly. Does he actually sleep in here?”
“As far as I’m aware he doesn’t sleep,” Shera replied.
Faith could guess what he did do.
Decorated in crimson and black, the room was huge and circular with windows all around through which she could see the twilight sky. A great circular bed, covered with fur throws and mounds of cushions, dominated the room. A fire flickered in the fireplace and in front of it, on an embroidered rug, lay the biggest dog she had ever seen. It raised its head and snarled. It also had the biggest teeth she had ever seen, and she hesitated in the doorway.
“Bran!” Shera spoke sharply and the dog rose to its feet and stalked over.
Faith swallowed. His head was level with hers, so she could stare straight into his cold yellow eyes. His fur was reddish brown, with a black ridge along his back, his body lean, with powerful forelegs ending in vicious inch-long claws.
“Nice,” she croaked. “Er, what sort of dog is that?”
“A hellhound. The master’s favorite. Bran out!” Shera turned a stern stare on the dog or hellhound or whatever it was, and the beast slunk out of the room. “If you need anything, pull the cord, and someone will come.”
“So if I want a cup of coffee, someone will have to climb up all those stairs to bring it to me? Won’t the coffee be cold by the time it gets here?”
“I’ll send someone with wings. Would you like coffee?”
She wasn’t sure. Well she was, she would love a coffee. But someone with wings. Yikes. But she needed coffee. She nodded slowly and a faint smile flickered across Shera’s face.
“I’ll send you some up. The bathroom is through there.” She pointed to a door opposite the bed.
“Thank you.”
Once alone, she examined her surroundings. The room was a sybaritic delight. Everything rich and opulent. She took a tentative step inside curling her bare toes into the soft rug. When she reached the bed, she couldn’t resist digging her fingers into the sumptuous sable fur.
She could picture Ash lying back on that fur. As long as he lost the wings of course—those would make lying on his back pretty uncomfortable. Did it hurt getting rid of them? He hadn’t seemed in pain when they sprouted.
Throwing herself down on the bed, she buried her face in the silky softness. Then sat up abruptly when she realized that once again she was in her filthy, bloodstained clothes.
She leaped to her feet, tried the door to the bathroom, and gasped again.
Ash obviously liked his luxury. A black marble bath, run through with veins of gold. She stared at it longingly but didn’t want to be in the bath when the winged thing arrived with her coffee. Instead, she stripped quickly and stepped into the walk in shower, turning on the water. Who would have thought hell would have decent plumbing?
The water came out steaming, and she allowed herself a minute standing under the spray.
She got out and rubbed herself dry. A crimson, silky robe hung on the door and she tugged it down and held it to her nose. It smelled of Ash, musky and spicy, and the memory of him made the muscles in her belly clench tight.
A knock came from the other room. She pulled on the robe and hurried across to the door, trying not to trip over the material that trailed on the ground and rolling up the sleeves as she went.
She opened the door, not knowing quite what to expect. A man stood there. He appeared quite normal except for the black wings furled at his back. He’d been staring at the floor now he raised his eyes and they were crimson.
Maybe even the servants had to match the decor.