Page 131 of The Hunted

The man tipped his head down before saying, “Your highness; I hope your travel was well.”

“Could have been better. What’s the word?”

“We’ve received word the prince has left the estate.”

Mattue’s gaze drifted to Arelle.

She stared right back.

Misael, on the other hand, smiled as a king should. “See if you can find him and if you do, well, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, sire.”

Mattue was still looking Arelle’s way when the king turned to leave. It was only then that the man turned to follow, breaking their stare.

She still watched him go. One should never turn their back on a man like that. They were always far better to see coming.

• • •

Two guards followed Kisa and Arelle as they walked through halls that felt like they were closing in on her with every step she took. It seemed as though from the moment she’d stepped into the castle, Kisa’s demeanor changed from one of a friend, to a woman who was just doing what she was told.

Including taking Arelle to what she called the harem.

Arelle didn’t fault the woman for the change or even the sudden spike of loneliness driving into her heart because she suspected that here … well, within the walls of this prison they called home, it was all about survival.

They did what they had to.

“Nearly there,” Kisa murmured.

The heavy slap of boots against white marble had Arelle glancing over her shoulder at the guards following close behind with heavy swords hanging from the sheaths at their sides. They walked in tandem and kept their gazes straight ahead.

Unsettling, really.

Then, a scent hit her.

They rounded a corner at the same time, coming to gates that were smaller versions of the ones leading into the court’s square with the same cursive B in the middle. The smell in the air was stronger now, mixed with heat and promising something she needed. She could even hear the quiet conversation in a language she missed, whispering from whatever was behind those locked gates.

“Is that—”

“Salt, yes,” Kisa said. “I think, over the years, the king has found keeping some of us happy in little ways keeps him happier as well.”

But what did that even mean?

“Move aside,” one of the guards ordered.

He opened the gates, the heavy iron shuddering and moaning when he pulled it open. Kisa nodded to the man and then looked Arelle’s way, waiting.

“Welcome home,” she told her.

“This isn’t our home,” Arelle replied.

Kisa sighed. “It is now.”

Behind the gates that the guard locked once they were safely inside, Arelle found the same white marble that dominated the castle. The salty dampness clinging to the air had her dragging in lungful after lungful of a taste she missed so badly.

“This way,” Kisa said, tipping her head to the side and taking a corridor that led away from the noise Arelle wanted to follow. “The king expects you to be dressed as the rest of us do inside the harem.”

“What does that mean?”