Chapter 8

Alice

I shut the door and hurried down the corridor, panicked and desperate.

There'd been no time to dress, so all I could do was clutch the coarse linen draped over me. How I wished I were a dragon, like the one in that dream—then I could fly back to my room as fast as possible.

I needed to get dressed, badly. However tattered the clothes, I could bear them—anything so I wouldn't look as pitiful as I did now.

Almost there. At last I passed through the final hallway, my room drawing closer and closer. My hand had nearly reached the door when a familiar voice sounded behind me.

"Hey, bitch."

My mind went blank in an instant. It was as if a basin of ice water had been poured over my head, freezing my whole body in place. That voice had haunted countless nightmares of mine.

It was Linda.

Stiffly, I turned my head.

Linda had already come to stand before me, dressed as immaculately as ever, two servants trailing behind her.

"So His Grace summoned you to his bed again?"

"Yes."

I nodded faintly. I knew Linda didn't care about the answer. She only cared about what she saw with her own eyes. I'd come running out of Augus's room half-naked, wrapped in nothing but linen—what else could that mean?

Even if Augus hadn't "favored" me last night, Linda would still have taught me a harsh lesson. Just like every time before.

I hitched the linen up higher, making sure to expose as little of my body as possible for the beating to come. That was a lesson I'd learned through countless past experiences.

Sure enough, Linda looked at me, a vicious expression spreading across her face, and raised her arm at me. I hurriedly squeezed my eyes shut.

But to my surprise, the slap I'd braced for never landed on my cheek.

I opened my eyes to see Linda patting her own hand, a sly smile curling at the corner of her mouth. She looked like a fox, calculation glinting in her eyes.

"You poor thing—wounded like this, and still made to warm his bed."

I stood frozen, staring at this stranger before me.

Was this really Linda?

She hadn't hit me. She had even, for the first time, spoken words of concern. However snide they sounded, it was still utterly unbelievable!

She was right—I was pitiful. But I didn't believe someone so relentlessly cruel would suddenly feel sympathy for my plight. Especially not Linda. She was a true viper. Why on earth would she care whether I lived or died?

So, looking at her, I asked outright:

"What do you want?"

I watched the smile freeze on her face, her eyes returning to that disgust I knew so well.

This was the real Linda.

She leaned in toward me again, her lips nearly brushing my ear, and spoke in a voice only the two of us could hear: "Have you never thought of leaving?"

Leaving?

My body shuddered against my will, and I nearly loosened my grip on the linen.

What did she mean? Leave the castle? But how could I go?

Linda seemed thoroughly pleased by my expression. She even reached out to twirl a strand of my hair, toying with it between her fingers. "If you want to go, I can help you get away—far, far away." Her breath washed over my ear. It was warm, yet it sent a chill through me. "But if you don't, every single day you stay here, I'll make you suffer."

Her voice was as bewitching as a witch's incantation.

"Think it over. Freedom, or a lifetime as a lowly slave. You decide."

By the time she finished, Linda had straightened up. She gave me one last look, then turned and left with her servants.

Before she went, she said to me in a tone of charity:

"Three days. I'll be looking forward to your answer."

I watched her figure grow smaller and smaller until it vanished completely. Only then did I turn, pull open the door, and return to my shabby little room.

I sat down on the bed, Linda's words still echoing over and over in my mind. On the surface she'd given me a choice, but clearly, everything she'd said was meant to push me toward saying yes.

I was no fool.

I understood what Linda was thinking. She had always hated me because of Augus, and so she wanted me gone. But there was one thing I had never understood—something everyone in the castle knew. I was merely a slave who shared Augus's bed. What kind of threat could I possibly pose to Linda?

I tore the linen away from my body, baring my naked skin. My wounds hadn't fully healed yet.

I picked up the medicinal herbs from the corner and had just started to apply them when the memory of Augus's disgusted look last night suddenly surfaced in my mind. He hated the smell. I was certain that if he caught a whiff of it again, I'd be as good as dead.

So I set the herbs back on the table, even though my wounds still throbbed faintly with pain.

Do you want to leave?

Linda's voice rose in my mind once more.

Honestly, when I'd heard the word leave, my heart had stirred. To gain my freedom, to never again endure the nightly torment—it was a temptation.

But now that I'd truly settled into quiet, I realized just how naïve the thought had been.

I was Augus's slave now. Running away without permission was a crime. All Augus had to do was issue a warrant, and I'd be caught at once. Even with Linda's help, what good would it do? She was nothing more than a fallen noble. The true master of this castle was Augus. I didn't believe Linda could help me leave—still less that she truly wanted to.

Perhaps the moment I was caught, I'd be stabbed to death in the street. I wasn't willing to gamble my life on a promise.

And besides—if I really were lucky enough to escape successfully, where would I even go? I had no home, not even legal papers of identity. I couldn't so much as become a commoner. In the end, my only fate would be to be bought by someone else and go on living as a slave. Heaven only knew what my next master would be like.

I shook my head. No. I couldn't agree to Linda's offer—even though she'd threatened to make my life miserable. Compared to her, Augus was clearly the more frightening one. I was certain he really would kill me. Now was not the time to leave.

The thinking had worn me out, so I lay down on the bed. I wanted to close my eyes and rest for a while, but the pillow beneath me was maddeningly uncomfortable—no matter how I shifted, it wouldn't sit right.

God, this wretched pillow. Why did even it have to work against me?

I couldn't help sitting up and flinging the pillow aside.

Wait—what was this?

I stopped. A filthy scrap of ragged linen had been stuffed beneath it. The spot was perfect; sitting on the bed a moment ago, I hadn't noticed a thing. But who had put it here? I reached out and picked up the cloth, and I soon had my answer.

A line of words had been written on the linen in blood. It must have been placed there not long ago—the blood hadn't fully dried yet.

I stared at it for a moment, then read it softly aloud:

"I want to see you."

In the bottom right corner, a name was signed.

"Lauren."