Страница 16 из 83
Ada
Darkness hummed a melody, followed by a voice like teeth scraping over rock. “Flesh and scar and skin and bone, feed her body to the throne.”
A shiver ripped me from sleep.
Above me, white, porous stone shaped like intertwined roots snaked around the arched ceiling, yellowed in some spots while others carried dark patches of moss. Rosemary and meat scented the air—so out of place in this naked room holding little more than my bed and a tub.
Orlaigh glanced down at me, her irises a pale green. “The living used to say ye slept like the dead.”
With most of the pain gone, I propped myself up, the gray furs draped over my naked body shifting with the motion. “How long was I out?”
She shrugged and turned toward an outcropping of stone lined with jars, bowls, and flasks. “From the moment ye closed yer eyes to the moment they opened.”
And how long was that? Dozens of questions tangled my brain. Did John break through the coffin and crawl out of the dirt? Limp toward the tower and collapse somewhere between there and here for some stranger to find and toss into a pit? What were the chances that Pa finished what I’d started, and—
Pa! He had to be sick with worry.
I glanced at where Orlaigh rummaged through pottery. “Hours? Days?”
“The dead di
The shiver returned, skin pebbling against a room so cold my breath rose in billows. “I have to get back home.”
The blue-and-green-checkered skirt of Orlaigh’s dress flowed with the motion as she turned back, a small jug clasped between hands, and sat beside me. “Stew’s gone cold, but the bread’s fresh. First, have a good swallow of this.”
Smooth pottery pressed against my chapped lips, and cool water sloshed against my puckered gums before it gulped down a narrow throat. The water hit my stomach like a boulder, but I emptied it all.
“Yer stench is rotten, and that means something coming from a corpse.” When she caught me staring at her, she lifted a bushy brow. “Wary around corpses?”
Only if they suddenly asked questions. “How come you move? Talk?”
“The Master had me soul bound to me body.” A hint of dismay lingered in the undertone of her voice. “My thoughts are me own, but me body moves freely only if he wills it. Ach, he chases me poor bones across court as lordly as any man. Fifty-two years cleaning up after little lords and ladies; all of eternity cleaning up after him.”
A cramp squeezed my stomach just thinking about the King. “Is it true what some say about him?”
“They say many things in many places.”
“He’s hundreds of years old?”
A low grunt resonated from her chest. “Older.”
“He doesn’t look a hair past thirty.” A man in his prime, the memory of how easily he’d lifted me still fresh in my memory, no matter how fogged. “Where does he come from? Why did he curse our lands?”
“Never speak of it, lass.” The woman placed the empty jar on the ledge before she pulled back layers of furs, exposing me to the biting chill of the room. “Cleaned ye up as well as I could, but what ye need is a good washin’, lass. Up with ye!”
“It’s as cold as winter. Is there no—”
“No fire. Never fire.” The short, plump woman offered her hand, her skin void of those black veins she’d had when I’d arrived. “Di
Interesting.
I breathed against the tension in my muscles, fighting the urge to run. King or not, I had no interest in serving him—least of all for eternity. But ru
A fool’s errand.
I took Orlaigh’s hand and rose, using my other to cover myself in a poor attempt at modesty. “What is this room?”
“Master’s made it just for ye.”
“Made? Whatever does that mean?”
Orlaigh waved her hand toward the alabaster vessel standing across. “Go on! Climb in.”
My naked soles slapped over to a tub not made of wood like in the bathhouse back home, but the same material as everything else in this room, this kingdom. Shaky fingers brushed along the elegantly rounded edge, smooth against my skin, save for the occasional chaffing of pin-sized holes.
Steam billowed on the surface of the water when I dipped my toe into the tub, and I immediately pulled back. “It’s gone cold.”
Orlaigh dived a hand into the water. “Feels warm enough to me, but I reckon a cold body is a poor judge.” She turned toward a set of white carved doors at the end of the scarce room. “Best we call me Master—”
I gripped the edge of the tub once more and climbed in. “I’d rather freeze than face him.” Taking a deep breath, I let myself sink to the bottom, arm draped over my breasts. “If you hand me soap, I’ll wash.”
Orlaigh retrieved a white bar of curd soap from the ledge but returned with a shake of her head. “Yer back’s covered in barely closed wounds. They’ll fester, awright. Mending flesh takes me Master great effort. Now dunk yer head and wet yer hair.”
I did as I was told and let myself slip along the tub until my head submerged, fingers tousling through the tattered nest of hair. The moment I sat up, shivering, Orlaigh rubbed the bar over my scalp.
“What was the white room where you found me?” If I made it there, I might make it out. “My mule dragged me through an arch and down a dark passage.”
“The throne room.”
“Is it, um… is it far from here?” When Orlaigh’s movements slowed, I added, “If you take me there, I’d like to thank your master for healing my wounds.”
“Hear me, lass, there’s no outru
So was Hemdale. “I’ve known corpses all my life.”
“Not this kind. They’ll drag ye back to him each time ye try to run. Did ye reckon I never tried?”
There had to be a way… “How long have you been here?”
“Decades. Centuries. It’s all—”
“The same to you,” I said, my shoulders slouching as hope wanted to fade away.
Orlaigh’s pat against my head told me there might be an ally in the woman or, at the very least, a friend. Would she help me? Perhaps distract the corpses so I could escape the King’s punishment?
Harlot.
The word still echoed.
Would he employ me as such? If he looked like a man, did he have a man’s needs?
My chest tightened at the premise.
John had once threatened to sell me to the whorehouse—as was his right as a husband when a wife proved barren. I’d slapped him in the face. He’d slapped me back harder, twice, but he’d never threatened it again. I’d avoided this fate then, and I wouldn’t accept it now.
Not without a fight.
I scratched a nail over the material of the tub, pearls of water ru
“She woke.” The King’s voice snapped my spine straight, amplified with each slow thud of a boot as he approached. “Leave us.”
Behind me, Orlaigh turned u
“Now.”
The weight of the woman’s hand on my shoulder turned heavier, colder, and in no way comforting. Worse was how it disappeared as she rose and walked off. “As me Master commands…”
Even after her footfalls faded behind doors long shut, the King didn’t move, didn’t speak—and neither did I. My heart did the talking for me, each beat sending a vibration whispering over the surface of the otherwise still water.
His long exhale cooled the surrounding air further, but his sharp command froze the blood in my veins. “Stand.”
Breathing as shallow as I could to hide my fear, I rose to the deafening drips of water. Arm hugging my breasts tighter, I lowered my other hand to cover my crotch.
“I never meant to set foot into your ki-ingdom.” My chattering teeth bit down on the words. “But thank you for mending my f-fl-lesh.”
His silence was nothing but an extension of his disdain as the warmth of his body crept against my spine. If he resented us mortals so much, then why keep me? Everyone heard the stories of how lunatics tied virgins to the trees in the Blighted Fields to appease him. Most died strapped to the trunk. Why not ignore me? Send me back? Heavens, why not kill me?
“My court is so… cold.” Gentle fingers brushed wet hair over my shoulder before they trailed down my back, making me arch away. “Shh… never evade my touch, mortal, or deny me your warmth.”
His touch made heat creep underneath my skin, planting itself in the marrow of my bones, warming me from the inside. “What do you want with me?”
“You tell me. What could I want with the soft skin of a woman, her flesh warm and yielding?”
I shook my head.
“No?” His faint chuckle tingled down along my shoulder blade. “I’m tempted to tell you just how I will use this body, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with a simpler question. What’s your name, little mortal?”
Mortal.
Was he… undying?
I swallowed hard. “Ada.”
“Ada…” His voice emerged as little more than a whisper, almost like a caress to my name. “Your flesh is not untouched. That either makes you a whore or a woman with a husband.”
A flare of heat let my chin rise. “My husband died two summers ago.”
“Without ever giving you a child?”
A sudden emptiness hit my core. How could he know these things? “Life never blessed me with children.”
Punishment for my failings as a woman.
No, not a woman.
An unwoman.
The King’s command scraped over the nape of my neck. “Turn around and climb out.”
Everything in me tensed.
I hadn’t shown my body to any man but John, and only for the first two years of our marriage. “It’s not decent.”
His fingers wrapped around my throat from behind and his lips moved against my temple as he rasped, “There is no part of you I have not yet seen, sensed, or stirred. Whenever you consider disobeying me, know that I can make you. And nothing, nothing, bores me more than to make you.”
I braced myself to face him. Life had stripped most of my pride. Nobody would take the bit that was left, not even him.
I turned…
…and regretted it.