One time she actually mumbled out loud, “I’m actually starting to miss his company.” The light began to head for the wall, and Mina stopped it. “Don’t you dare tell him. Remember he’s the one who wants to make me suffer and punish me. Don’t let my soft side fool you.”
The light bobbed and flickered up toward the ceiling. She thought it seemed awfully dim and wondered if maybe she had hurt its feelings. Look at me, worried about a magic light’s feelings! The imprisonment must be getting to her more than she thought. Teague was watching out for her. All she had to do was wait and he’d come…eventually. Hopefully before she starved to death. Still, it was hard to not get depressed and worry about how many days or nights she’d live before he’d put an end to it.
It was also hard not to worry about Charlie.
The time for eating had long passed, and the wall opened up with another tray of food. Mina ignored the tray and curled up in her bed and waited until the food disappeared. A few hours later, another tray appeared with even more appealing food. The smell of roasted chicken, spices, and fruit tempted her to move from her bed, but she didn’t give in. The tray moved from the wall to the small table in her room with invisible hands.
Mina just closed her eyes and pretended it wasn’t there. An hour later, the food was gone. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, but it was easy to forget about it with sleep. Sleep and hunger were interchangeable in her book.
The sound of the bricks moving told her there would be another attempt to coax her to eat. And then the smell of her favorite food wafted to her nose—homemade dumplings and chocolate cake. Back home, Mina would never tire of eating them, but this time? They didn’t make her hungry. They only made her miss her Godmother more. Tears filled her eyes.
“Please stop it. I’m not hungry.” Mina spoke out loud to the room. “Make it go away.” This time it didn’t take hours. It took seconds for the tray of food to disappear with the scraping sound.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly to no one.
Her Fae light dimmed.
“Are you dying?” His irritated voice spoke in the darkness.
“No.” Mina rolled her eyes, but she wouldn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t know where in the room he was anyway.
“Are you sick, then?”
“In a way.”
The Fae light illuminated the room, and she could see Teague standing next to her bed looking down at her. He wore pants, brown leather boots, and a green long-sleeved tunic.
“Well, get better,” he demanded, as if that command alone could solve her problems.
“I’m homesick.”
“Oh.” Her answer seemed to startle him. “Of course you are. You’re in my prison. You’re here to be miserable.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“And I am.” Mina rolled over on her other side, so she didn’t have to look at his face. “Why would you tell me to get better? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”
“Yes?” He answered as if he doubted his answer. The bed dipped as he sat next to her. She heard his long drawn out sigh. “I think so,” he said.
Silence followed. The bed shifted again, and she turned her head to see that he had made himself comfortable. His boots were crossed at the ankles, his right arm cushioned his head, and his left lay across his stomach. He stared up at the ceiling.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m relaxing.”
“In my bed?”
“No my bed. The bed is mine. That rug is mine, the chair is mine. It’s all mine.” He turned to look at her, and she saw a glint in his eye. “You’re mine.”
“Only because of this.” She held up her wrists to show him the iron cuffs. By now she’d grown accustomed to them and could ignore them, but she hated what they represented.
“So you’re saying if I removed them, you’d leave?”
“No, because I promised I wouldn’t. To save my friends. I’ll stay here with you forever, or until you chose to end my life.”
“But you’re unhappy.”
“I’m lonely, and I miss my brother.”
“Why do you miss him?”
She closed her eyes and counted backward from twenty as she tried not to snap at him. “Because he’s family, and I love him. Haven’t you ever missed someone so much it hurts?”
He didn’t answer her right away. “Yes, and as you’d say, it drove me crazy.” He turned on his side and leaned his head on his elbow studying her. “Why do you think I’m not happy?”
“You can never be happy, because your heart has been poisoned by the dagger.” Mina turned back, unwilling to look at him while he relaxed in her bed. It may be his cell and his prison, but he was invading her sanctuary, her bed, and she didn’t like it.
“No, there were moments when I was,” he spoke softly. “When I dethroned my parents and banished them to the swamplands for what they had done to me—that made me happy. When I finally found you after a hundred years, and I began to spin your life into tales, like I had done to your ancestors—that made me happy. When I wreaked havoc on your school—that made me happy.”