“As serious as a whiteout on the Cliffs of Sarum.”
His eyes widened further. “Ock, no, Lady Seary! The prince would shave my wings for that. You’re to stay here in your chambers. I do apologize, my dear. Prince’s orders.” With that, he exited the room and closed the door with a flourish.
When I tried to turn the doorknob to follow him, the handle wouldn’t budge.
“Blessed Mother!” I beat on the door, but it did no use. Balbus didn’t come back to rescue me, and nobody else came either. For all I knew, they couldn’t even hear me. I had no idea how strong the wards were protecting this chamber, but they’d been thick when I’d passed through them, making me wonder if they trapped sound too.
My solitude didn’t last long, though. Balbus returned with books as promised, but instead of allowing me to follow him despite nearly begging, he once again locked me in my chambers.
Fuming, I turned back toward my prison and for a moment just stood there. That lasted all of two seconds.
I quickly turned into a flurry of exploration, looking under every layer of bedding, upturning every piece of furniture, and prying under all of the artwork on the walls. I figured there had to be something that could help me escape or perhaps would yield a hidden exit. I just needed to find it.
Hours later, my fingertips and knuckles were raw from endless tapping and scratching as I searched for hollow areas in the walls or hidden exits. All of my searches proved unsuccessful, though, and were only interrupted when the tailor arrived. He was quick, efficient, and the opposite of loquacious. Despite trying to pry information from him too—that could hopefully help with my escape—the only words he uttered were turn or arms out or extend your legs. He didn’t even comment on my wingless back.
Grumbling, I resumed my searching after he left, but by nighttime the only interesting things I’d discovered were an old necklace stuffed deep within one of the couch cushions, an aged bottle of the greenest leminai I’d ever seen, and a magical safe hidden behind the small portrait of flowers near the wardrobe.
The safe was, of course, guarded with a spell, so I couldn’t open it, but since the opening was too small for me to fit through, I knew it couldn’t contain a hidden passageway to escape. Most likely, it held jewels or ledgers that needed protecting, which wouldn’t help me in the least.
My stomach was howling in hunger by the time I conceded defeat. It didn’t help that my throat also itched with a vengeance as Vorl’s magic began to fade. Within a few days his magic would dissipate completely, although the bruises would be long gone by then—as they always were whenever Vorl purposefully hurt me and hid it.
My physical discomfort only amplified my situation, so I kicked the wall in frustration. That, however, only led to a stubbed toe, but dammit, there was no way out of here, not unless I could fly out of the courtyard, which the bastard prince knew I couldn’t, and that would only be if a domed ward didn’t encapsulate the courtyard’s air.
Depressingly, this chamber was too warded for someone such as myself to breach, which meant that unless the prince set me free or I could convince one of the servants to help me, I was stuck here for the foreseeable future.
Only the forlorn nature of the plants in the garden had pricked any interest in me. The prince had been right in that aspect. Even though I’d stated it was asinine of him to think I would want to tend to them, I did.
It was cold and dark by the time I slipped out through the glass doors. At least it’d stopped snowing, but a new inch of fresh powder covered the ground. Dropping to my knees, I let my fingertips touch the soil as I searched for a pulse or hum that orem existed within the garden. Dry, frozen dirt greeted me. I pushed harder, forcing my fingers into our Mother’s depths.
Nothing.
My brow puckered as I tried to comprehend the absence of magic. Even though some territories on our continent were more naturally blessed in orem than others, they all held our land’s magic to some degree. But here, within these walls, I didn’t detect an inkling of it.
“How odd,” I whispered to the frozen shrubs, vines, and plants. “No wonder you’re all dead. You poor things.”
I went to each one, carefully removing the snow and ice from the leaves until my hands were so cold I could barely bend my fingertips.
Blowing on them to warm them, I surveyed what I’d accomplished. It wasn’t much considering how vast the garden was, but I’d managed to clear off at least a third of the neglected plant stalks.
“My lady?” a voice called from inside the chamber, barely carrying through the crack I’d left in the glass doors.
I peered inside.
A female fairy, still young at around fifty winters, waited in the chamber as she surveyed the area, obviously searching for me.
“I’m here.” I slipped through the door, and she gave a surprised “Oh” when she turned to survey me, then immediately dipped into a curtsy.
“How do you do, Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory? My name is Daiseeum Wheatvale, daughter of Prinavee Territory. I’m to be your lady’s servant during your time at the Court of Winter, and I’ve been sent to help you bathe and dress before you retire for the night.”
I took in her angular features and hair tied in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Like Milis, her wings were tiny, but unlike the Liss Lodge owner, Daiseeum’s wings were rounded at the edges and were a soft-black color. Given how delicate Daiseeum’s wings appeared, they were pretty much the exact opposite of the prince’s huge leathery, talon-tipped wings.
My stomach gave another growl, and Daiseeum’s hand flew to her mouth. “Mother Below, have you not eaten yet?”
“Oh no, I did when I got here,” I replied sheepishly as I slapped a hand to my stomach.
Her lips puckered. “But that was hours ago.”
I stared dumbly at her as I tried to understand why she looked so aghast. After all, I was being held prisoner inside a chamber in the king’s castle, nobody was to know I was here, and I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the kitchen. How in all the realms was I supposed to get myself food?
I crossed my arms. “I was told I couldn’t leave these chambers, and I’m afraid no food or drink was left behind when Balbus departed.”
Well, besides the alcohol at the bar. I’d been tempted more than once during the afternoon to partake in it, but I figured stumbling around drunk wouldn’t help me if I managed to find an exit from this warded chamber.