Blood for her Crown

Chapter Forty-Two

Grace

Ever since someone had come into her room while she'd slept, she didn't feel safe enough to close her eyes for more than a moment. It must have been the same person who had given her the key to lock herself in, and since they didn't harm her during their visit, she probably wouldn't have to feel so uneasy. Still, she could never be too sure about people's intentions, especially when she was unaware of who exactly had done her that favor.

The only reason she had settled on eating some of the food they had placed next to her bed was because of the reminder on the note: Eat. You can use whatever strength you can gain if you intend to escape.

They were right. She hadn't eaten for days, and the emptiness of her stomach was almost enough for her to lose her mind. It had been hours since she'd eaten the cold food, and so far there were no signs of poison.

As she sat on her bed and ran a hand through her hair, she felt the sudden need to take a long, warm bath. Like her bathing room in Azivélle, this one had the same pipes and wheels above the tub, though by the looks of them, they were far older. Nevertheless, on the second try, she found the one that let warm water flow inside the tub until it was nearly filled to the brim.

Hours must have passed before she wrapped herself up in a blanket and returned to her previous spot in the bed. When she heard a knock on her door, she immediately regretted leaving the water, even though she'd been freezing for the last ten minutes. She didn't intend to open the door or even speak to the person on the other side. Instead, she chose to wait until they left. To her dismay, they didn't.

"Open the door, Grace," her father's impatient voice called. "Now."

Judging by his tone, he wouldn't allow her disobedience, but she couldn't even move. For four days he had left her alone, which meant he was either trying to get in because of the reason she was in Alvaros, or...

"If you don't open this door this instant, I will break it down if I must, and I can assure you, you do not want to test me today," he shouted against the wood, angrier this time.

Fear rippled through her. He would burn down the door if he wanted to, and the encounter would get a lot uglier if he had to force his way into her room. With shaking legs, she stood and slowly stumbled to the door. She swallowed once and turned the key. Before he could open the door, she hurried back to her bed to get some distance between them.

Surprise and relief flushed over her when she saw Creed behind the king. Even though the assassin had made his distaste for her clear, she doubted he was there to witness her father forcing himself on her.

Her father entered the room and threw a large piece of black and emerald green fabric on the bed.

"Get dressed. I will send a servant to handle that mess on your head," he ordered and dismissively waved to her hair. "You have one hour before we leave."

"Leave where?" She hated the betraying tremble in her voice when she asked this, but her curiosity got the better of her.

The king smirked at that, but apparently didn't deem her question worthy of an answer. Without explaining anything to her, he turned and left. Creed, who had remained outside the doorway, stepped into the room and closed the door. He wasn't wearing a mask this time. It had always been a piece of him, was there every single time their paths had crossed. She could never even have imagined him without it.

Curiously, she eyed his face. Had she not known what a monster he had become under Dyon's reign, she might have been able to properly acknowledge how handsome he was—brown hair that fell across his forehead, striking icy blue eyes, sharp features, and a shadow across his jaw. The only thing some people might consider a flaw was the large scar beneath his left eye. It was certainly interesting how that was the only visible scar. She would have thought his entire face was covered in them, thus the mask.