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She has to be okay.
Nothing stands out except the memory of feeling like I was being watched. I was so wrapped up in dancing with the mysterious man and the fantasy of who I wanted him to be.
If I’ve learned anything in my twenty, almost twenty-one years, it’s that I don’t trust my own mind. Because somewhere along the way, fantasy started blurring with reality, and one minute, I’m dreaming about being hunted by a stranger, and the next, I’m dancing with one… and then I wake up in a freaking dungeon.
I’m still sane enough to know how absurd this all sounds.
Maybe this is rock bottom.
I’ve finally broken. This is what it feels like.
I crawl back across the dank space to pull the blanket off the bed and roll it down onto the floor, where I curl up and wait.
I take the mirror and smash it on the ground, then tear some fabric and wrap it around the largest shard before carefully putting it in my pocket. I scatter the other pieces under the bed and hold one in my hand as I wait for someone to come back.
Next time, I’ll be ready.
My superstitious mind can’t ignore the fact that I just shattered a mirror or the implication of all the bad luck it will surely bring… but to be honest, it can’t be any worse than the past seven years I’ve had threefold.
It’s only minutes or maybe hours later when my adrenaline crashes and sleep tugs at me once more that I let myself really cry. The pain I’ve been holding in bubbles up and overflows in hot, silent tears as I accept that this time, I’m not dreaming. I am wide-awake. And I am terrified.
Chapter 5
Riven
Sleep evades me again. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. My father always said there was no rest for the wicked, and he was right.
About a lot of things.
Because what I thought would be the end is just the beginning.
My splitting head and aching body need rest, but my mind won’t allow it, so I go through the motions, lying in this big bed alone, replaying everything—every look, every touch—in my head on a twisted loop.
“What in the king’s name have you done, Riven?”
And there it is.
The frozen water to my heated, forbidden thoughts.
“Good morning to you too, sister.” Birdy knows no boundaries, barging into my private quarters. “If I were you, I would watch throwing the king’s name around unless you want the queen to lock you up in a tower.”
“I’m serious, Riven. Tell me right now, what have you done?” Birdy pouts, which usually gets her what she wants, but not this time. There is way too much on the line.
I’m not risking her life or my own.
She takes my silence as an invitation to continue badgering me.
“I’ve just come from the kitchen, where I heard gossip that a new prisoner arrived sometime between the witching hour and sunrise, and seeing as how it’s nearly noon and you’re still in your boots and leather, that makes me think you stumbled in and crashed into your bed only hours ago.”
“What does this have to do with me exactly?” I make no effort to move lest she be encouraged.
“Rumor has it the prisoner was brought in through the Hall of Mirrors.”
“And?”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid? The Mirrors, Riven!” She stamps her foot like a child, even though she’s nearly eighteen. Our mother’s temper runs through her veins like wildfire.
I try to ignore Birdy, failing miserably, and push myself up on my elbows to see her rifling through my things.
