She went to bite her thumbnail before remembering it wasn’t there. Clasping her hands together, she said, “Are you offering me use of your bathing room, alone, no hidden agenda?”
“I have a very clear agenda—you wash the stench off so you no longer stink up my bedchamber.”
“Fine.” She gracefully walked past Kerdan and strode into the bathing room. Maybe if she behaved like a princess, he would treat her like one. She pushed the door closed, only then realizing her entire body was shaking. Somehow, she was out of the dungeon, alive, and in Kerdan’s bedchamber. There still might be a way to survive this catastrophe.
Bloody hell. She smelled worse than a pile of horse dung. Several candles lit the room, revealing a copper bathing tub elevated over a handful of burnt logs. She had better bathe before she passed out from her own stench. Kerdan must have been desperate to put up with her.
Going over to the tub, she pumped the lever. Frigid water slowly poured into it. Once the water looked deep enough to sit in, she released the lever and peeled off her clothing, kicking it toward the door. It reeked of something foul and rotten, making her gag.
Climbing in the tub, she yelped from the ice-cold water. Maybe she should have lit the wood underneath to warm the water. But that would take far too long. She needed to be quick in case Kerdan burst in while she was naked. Forcing herself to sit down, she grabbed the chunk of soap laying on the edge and began scrubbing away the dirt and grime. Her fingers felt each protruding rib bone. She barely recognized her own body since she’d lost so much weight in the dungeon. Moving on to her tangled hair, she rubbed the soap on it. Once she’d cleaned every inch and no longer reeked, she climbed out of the filthy water, her skin covered with goose bumps.
A large fur blanket hung on the wall so she plucked it off the hook, wrapping it around her body.
“I have some clean clothes for you to wear,” Kerdan called from the other side of the door. “You can come out here and dress while I bathe.”
She swayed on her feet. When was the last time she’d eaten?
“Allyssa?” She vaguely noted the lack of title.
“Face away from the door,” she demanded. “And that’s Princess Allyssa to you.”
“My apologies,” he replied. “You may exit. I’m not looking.”
After making sure the blanket fully covered her, she pushed open the door. True to his word, Kerdan had his back to her. She exited and moved past him. He turned, not once glancing her way, and went inside the bathing room, closing the door behind him.
Alone in the prince’s bedchamber, she rushed over to the fireplace and dropped to her knees, trying to warm herself.
***
Allyssa opened her eyes. A dying fire crackled before her. Yawning, she pushed herself to a sitting position. The fur blanket slid off her shoulders. Clutching it tightly around her, she looked for the prince. The bathing room door stood ajar, the inside pitch black. The drapes surrounding the four-post bed were drawn shut. He must be asleep, although she couldn’t hear him breathing.
A pile of clothes sat on the hearth. She snatched the warm fabric, pulling the shirt and pants on. They had to belong to the prince because they were far too large for her. However, she dared not complain because she was clean and warm—two things she’d never take for granted again.
On the couch, pillows were situated at one end along with a thick blanket, making a bed. Did Kerdan intend for her to sleep there? It certainly looked more appealing than the ground upon which she sat. She glanced at the door, but it was bolted shut with a lock that required a key. To get past it, she’d need that key—and the prince was probably sleeping with it. The couch-turned-bed did look rather inviting. Blimey. She was a fool. Climbing onto the couch, she pulled the blanket up around her neck. Well, at least she would be a well rested and warm fool.
***
Allyssa awoke the next morning to a roaring fire. The drapes surrounding the prince’s bed had been pulled back. It revealed a neatly made bed, with Kerdan nowhere in sight.
She stood and stretched. It had been a long time since she’d slept so well. Going over to the window, she pushed the curtains aside, revealing the bright morning light. Snow fell from the sky, covering the trees in white. She longed to see a piece of grass or a leaf poke through the thick snow. Something—anything—that hinted at life outside the castle. Because if nothing could survive in this harsh environment, then she couldn’t either.
She sighed, leaning her head against the freezing glass. She didn’t know what to think of her present situation with Prince Kerdan, but she did believe what he’d said about hating his stepmother. Last night, she had been around the royal family for only a few moments, but in that brief time, she’d felt the tension and hostility between Kerdan and Jana. Then there was Soma, who only complicated matters. Kerdan said that Soma tried to kill him. At the Russek base camp, she’d overheard soldiers talking about Kerdan being on the brink of death. Hopefully, the family dynamics would be enough to keep her alive or at least buy her enough time to escape.
The door flew open, and she jumped, spinning around in time to see the prince close and bolt the door.
“You’re awake.” He held a large bag in one hand and a box in the other. “Sit.” He nodded toward the chairs.
The smell of warm bread wafted through the air, making her mouth water. She hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks. She tripped over her own feet in her haste to comply.
“I didn’t anticipate you being so civil this morning.” He glanced around the room as if expecting to find it in disarray.
Her treasonous stomach growled, revealing the only reason she obeyed was the hope of food. The prince chuckled and sat on the chair next to her. He set the bag on the ground and then lifted the lid off the box, revealing a plate piled high with food. “For you.”
Grabbing the plate, she began shoving the food in her mouth, acting in a very unprincess-like manner. But she didn’t care. The warm bread practically melted in her mouth. She smelled cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on the bowl of oatmeal, and she moaned in pleasure. Slices of cheese and some pastry she’d never seen before covered the rest of the plate.
“You’re not the least bit concerned the food is poisoned?”
She shook her head, inhaling another chunk of bread. “If you intended to kill me, I’d already be dead.”
His eyes remained steady, observing her. So what if a bit of oatmeal ran down her chin? It wasn’t like his opinion of her mattered.
“I suggest you eat slowly.” He leaned back in the chair. “You’re probably going to vomit that up.”
She continued devouring the food, unable to stop. After every last morsel had disappeared, she sighed, her stomach blessedly full.