“Who are you?” I demand.
She straightens and turns her head to the side slightly, dipping her chin, her eyes still on me. “I am Aleida, the castle’s witch.”
I curse. My father. Of course, he would have a witch under his command. “Close the doors,” I growl.
The men do not leave me as the doors close. I’m glad for it, I’ve never talked to a witch in person before and they’re on guard as much as I am.
“Speak, witch, tell me why you’ve come to my private rooms.”
She lifts her chin, her eyes looking down her nose at me. “I need you down in the dungeon. Something has happened. Something fantastical and magical, the likes of which I’ve never encountered before.”
“Explain, witch,” Merek demands.
She shakes her head once. “You must see to believe.”
“If this is a plot to cause harm to your king, you will suffer,” Merek growls.
She lowers her chin, her eyes still eerily focused on me. “Never, Your Highness. I watched over you as a child, per the request of your sweet mother. I was requested to ensure your safety into manhood. After your mother’s passing, your father sequestered me to a corner of the dungeon, but my charms have always been to protect you, Your Majesty.”
The words cause me to stand, immediately. My mother. Nobody speaks of her, they haven’t since the moment she died. I was five years old. When she passed, my father pretended as if she’d never existed. Now, this witch speaks of her as though she knew her.
“Why did you not protect her then?” I softly demand.
“She requested that I not heal her. She knew it was her time, as a woman of the crystals, she could have saved herself. Yet, she could see her fate had she lived and only desired one request from me, that you fulfill your future as the rightful heir to the country of Bunafi.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. I will demand more from her, more information on my mother, but for now, I want to know what she is so insistent that I see.
“Take us to your dungeon. Show us what you wish me to see, witch,” I demand.
SYBILLA
I roll to my back with a groan. It feels like I’m sleeping on a hard concrete floor. Inhaling a deep breath, my nose wrinkles. It smells, really bad. I mean, I didn’t take the trash out last night, but I didn’t think that it would stink so quickly.
Opening my eyes, I push up so that I’m sitting. I glance around and as soon as my vision collides with a woman, I scream. She’s wearing a big flour sack kind of dress; it looks like it’s even possibly made from burlap. Her white hair is wild, and it looks like she’s tried to contain it in a bun, but then she forgot that she even had hair and it’s all over the place now.
“Calm, child,” she whispers.
That doesn’t make me calm. I scream again, I can’t stop. Crawling backward, I slam into what feels like a stone wall, all the while screaming my head off. She shakes her head once, lifts her hands and then says something that I can’t make out.
A few seconds later, my screaming stops and my eyelids grow extremely heavy. “Help,” I whimper.
She shakes her head; walking up to me she touches my shoulder. “Rest child, I’m sure all will be revealed in due time.”
I hear voices. Men’s voices and I open my eyes, my back still against the stone wall and still I’m in the fucking crazy-assed dream that I was in earlier.
The men stop talking. They stare at me as my eyes look over them. They’re all really tall, and wearing what looks like old medieval knights’ costumes. Lifting my gaze from their costumes, my lips part when I look into their faces.
They’re hot.
Like H-O-T, hot.
All four of them.
But my gaze stops on one. He’s sexy too, but in that totally rugged way. He has a scar that starts above his eye at the top of his forehead and travels down to the middle of his cheek, as if he was cut all the way down his face, over his eye. It’s sexy as shit. As is the week-old scruff he has on his face.
Licking my dry lips, my breath hitches when I see his steel-blue eyes focus on me. They aren’t just blue, they’re so bright blue that they are almost clear. It’s the most vibrant color I’ve ever seen.
“What is your name, witch?” he demands, looking directly at me.
I blink.
“Do you not understand Bunafian, witch? Your King demands an answer,” one of the other hot guys growls.
My gaze shifts to the woman with white hair and she only holds her hands up, which isn’t helpful at all. My breath starts coming out in pants as my heart starts to pound in my chest.
Holy fuck.
I’ve been kidnapped by cosplayer renaissance people.
“Name,” the super-hot rugged guy rumbles.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I inhale a deep breath before I speak. “Sybilla,” I whisper.
“You say you know not of how she arrived? Where she hails?” Super-Hot Rugged Guy asks, his eyes leaving mine to focus on the white-haired woman beside me.
“No, Your Majesty, she just appeared.”
“She is indecent. Are you a whore?” he asks, his chin dipping to me again.
I gasp at his question. “Absolutely not,” I snap. “How dare you.”
One of the men makes a whistling sound. Super-Hot Rugged Guy tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over me and suddenly my little pink and gray satin pajama shorts and tank top do seem rather indecent.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to hide the fact that I’m braless. His lips twitch at the move and he licks his bottom lip. “No need to hide your charms, witch. I’ve seen all you have to offer this moment.”
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, asshole?”
All four men freeze. They stare at me as if they’re deer caught in headlights. I wait for them to rough me up, or yell at me, or call me a bitch or something, but they just stare.
“What did that mean, Aleida?” one of them asks.
She makes a noise. “I do not know. I have never heard those words before.”
Looking back at her, then swinging my gaze over to the men. “What do you mean you guys haven’t heard that phrase before. Man, you’re taking this shit seriously,” I murmur.
Super-Hot Rugged Guy takes a step forward and crouches down in front of me. His gaze is focused on mine, holding me hostage as he stares at me. My eyes break contact with his, traveling his scar as I lick my lips. I want to kiss that scar and I don’t know why.
“Put her next to my room,” he announces as he stands up. “Rowan, you and Henry will stand as her guard. Nobody goes in, or out, unless they are approved by me. And for the gods sakes cover her,” he snaps, his last words are on a roar and I yelp with a jump.
“Merek, put the witch in a cell until I know what kind of sorcery she’s created,” he snaps.
Two hot men make their way toward me and reach for my biceps. I expect their grips to be hard, unforgiving and bruising, but they aren’t. Instead, they are firm but gentle as they pull me up to my feet.
“Come with us, milady,” one of them murmurs.
Looking between them, feeling their hands on my skin, I realize that this isn’t a dream. The stone floor against my feet is undoubtedly real and if they’re into cosplay, they must have a fuck of a lot of money, because everything around me looks seriously legit.
“Where the hell am I?” I whisper.
One of the men looks down at me in a short glance before he continues to forge ahead. “You’re in Bunafi, milady.”
He says it matter-of-factly, as if he truly believes that’s where we are. I press my lips together, following them up a narrow, stone spiral staircase that opens up into a large hallway.
It’s here that I know without a doubt, these dudes have money. Serious money. They’re also fucking crazy.
There are tapestries on the walls. There are paintings and huge arched wooden doors at every single room we pass.
“Do you think he knows what he’s doing putting her in the Queen’s quarte
rs?” one of the hot guys asks the other one.
One of them chuckles, his finger flexing against my bicep. “Elias knows exactly what he’s doing,” he announces as he stops us in front of a rounded, gorgeous, wooden door. Without any fanfare, he tugs the door open and gently pushes me inside.
Spinning around, I’m surprised to see both of them standing just outside of the room. “You’ll stay in here, milady. You will not attempt to venture anywhere or cast any spells of any kind. His Highness will be with you shortly.”
I don’t miss the smirk and tip of his lips as he sends his warning that Super-Hot Rugged Guy will be around to visit me. Opening my mouth, I try to gather the words to ask just what the fuck is going on, but I’m unable to as they slam the door closed.
Holy fuck. Holy shit fuck, fuck.
Chapter Two
ELIAS
“I did not summon her, Your Majesty,” Aleida says.
She isn’t begging, isn’t trying to convince me of anything. She is just telling me the facts that she truly believes. She is far too confident in her own words, but I can’t believe her. Nobody just falls from the gods sky like that.
“Whether or not you summoned her, I demand you find out how she got here. Gods damned, she could have been sent by an enemy,” I growl.
Aleida frowns, then lifts her gaze to meet mine. “She was not dressed as any other maiden I have ever encountered through my travels of this world.”
“No, she was not. A newfound enemy, perhaps?”
The witch nods. “I will see what I can discover, if there is anything to be discovered, Your Highness.”
Turning from her, I start to walk out of her new home, a cell in the dungeon. “If you discover anything, you will tell one of my men immediately.”
Spinning around, I walk away from the witch. She will prove her loyalty to me with this mission. If she is successful, I will have no issue installing her in the castle. If not, she can spend her days in the dungeon for all I care.
My heart twists at the thought of my mother, of how she asked not to be saved by Aleida. Then the idea that she begged the witch to protect me.
There were many times that I should have perished on the battlefield, dozens actually. It’s possible that her enchantments saved my life, protected me. I cannot brush that off, no man could.
Jogging up the spiraling staircase, I make haste as I walk toward the guarded room where this stranger lies. A maid plasters her back against the wall, a handful of folded linens in her grasp. Turning my gaze toward her, I watch as her gaze shifts quickly to the floor.
“I need a warm bath, two lady’s maids, and proper attire brought to the Queen’s chambers, immediately,” I bark.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she whispers, giving me a small curtsy.
My feet carry me toward the woman. I know not what made me put her in my mother’s chambers, in the Queen’s chamber which is connected to mine by only a sitting room between. It felt right in the moment. Maybe I was bewitched, I’m unsure.
Rowan and Henry are standing guard, just as I’ve instructed. “A bath is being brought to her, along with proper attire,” I announce.
Both of the men dip their chins, but I can feel that they have more to say. “Speak freely,” I grunt.
“In the Queen’s chambers, really, Elias?” Rowan chuckles.
“I know not,” I admit. “It seemed right at the time.”
“I’ll bet it did,” Henry mumbles.
Inclining my head, I look down my nose at him. “Say it,” I demand.
“She was wearing less than a night chemise, Elias. I’ve never seen anything of the like in my entire life. There is something not right about her. Perhaps she is a siren, sent to lure you. I do not think you should sleep so close to her, or with her.”
My jaw clenches and I feel a muscle jump in my cheek at his words. “I will pray on it, I will ask the witch to block this one’s powers, but I will not have my men accusing me of thinking solely with my cock. I am not some rutting boy.”
Rowan’s brow arches. Henry clears his throat. Merek appears at my side just as the boys carrying the bath and water hurry toward us. We all step to the side to allow them entrance, and I fight looking into the room.
I will go in there. I will see her and talk to her. What I will not do is any of that in front of these men who think I only want to bury my cock inside of her, consequences and crown be damned.
“Fetch me the witch. I’ve changed my mind about something,” I murmur, shifting my gaze to Merek.
“Talk to me, Elias,” he rumbles.
I dip my chin, my eyes focused on my brother. “I want her powers blocked. Whoever she is, I do not want her to be able to cast enchantments on me or any of the people residing in the castle.”
Merek’s chin jerks, one of his brows raising inquiringly. “You’re going to bed her,” he states. It isn’t a question. I don’t dignify his words with a response.
“Fetch the witch,” I grind out.
I can feel all three men smiling as they look at me, but I ignore them all. Thankfully, they don’t stare long. Merek turns and walks back toward the staircase that leads to the dungeon.
Rowan and Henry take their stations next to the door, one on each side and their chins lifted as they watch the flurry of maids carrying linens and clothes in and out.
When the hustle and bustle is concluded, I knock on the closed door. A maid answers, her eyes wide as she looks at me, then quickly shifts her gaze to the floor.
“I’ll be in my chancery, find me when madam is finished with her bath,” I softly demand.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she breathes.
Turning from the scene, I force my feet to carry me toward my chancery. My desire is to watch her bathe, to see if the promise of what lies beneath her strange garments is exactly how I imagine it would be.
I wonder if her body is warm, soft and inviting?
Sinking back in my leather chair, I pinch my eyes closed and I try not to imagine this strange woman with her long light-brown hair, riding me. She must be a siren, she must, otherwise I would not lust after her as if I was a boy who had only felt the touch of his hand and not a woman’s queynte.
By gods bones I hope that Aleida can break this spell.
SYBILLA
The door bursts open and I open my mouth to scream when I see that it’s three young teen boys carrying what looks like an old-fashioned metal tub. They set it down, wordlessly, then disappear before reappearing shortly after with buckets of water.
I watch as they fill the tub up with water, never once saying a word to me or one another. I take a step toward the large tub and pause when the door opens again and three women walk inside. They eye me warily, but none speak to me.
One is carrying what looks like white cloths folded and the other has a long dress made out of a deep burnished golden fabric with black lace trim along the bottom of the skirt and at the wrists of the long sleeves. It’s beautiful, but I don’t know why it’s being brought to me.
“Excuse me, what’s happening?” I ask.
Two of the three women keep their gazes focused on the stone floor, the third lifts hers up to meet mine.
“I am Jasmine and we are here to bathe you as per the orders of His Majesty,” she says, dipping her chin to the side.
I frown, unsure of what is happening. I’m completely confused by every single person here. “Please, help me. I think I’ve been kidnapped. My name is Sybilla Collins. I live in Portland, please help me,” I beg.
The woman takes a step back, a frown playing on her lips. “I know not of what you speak, milady. King Elias is a fair king. If he holds you under guard, he must have good reason. Please disrobe so that we may bathe you.”
Bathe me?
I balk at her words, all of them. She is just as brainwashed as everyone else in this creepy fucking building. There is no way I’m stripping naked in front of these people. She has clearly lost her ever-loving mind.
“I think I
can bathe myself,” I snap.
Her chin jerks and she takes a step back. She shifts her gaze behind her at the other women and I ignore the shared looks that they give one another. I’m sure for whatever reason they wanted to help me, but I’m going to have to decline allowing them to get their rocks off by bathing me.
“As you wish, milady,” Jasmine whispers.
Pressing my lips together, I watch as all three of them back out of the room before closing the big wooden door behind them. Looking from the door to the tub, then back to the door, I wonder how much privacy I really have here.
I don’t know how to lock the thing, and supposedly there are guards posted outside. Chewing on my bottom lip, I release it with a shrug. Who knows when I’ll get another bath, especially if I try to make a run for it, I should take advantage of the clean water.
Stripping out of my pajamas, I leave them in a pile next to the basin tub. There are a couple bottles placed at the end of the oblong tub and I pick them up to inspect them.
Taking the corks out of the top, I smell them. They are strongly scented oils. I choose a eucalyptus scent and tip it so that a few drops fall into the water.
Picking up what looks to be a bar of soap, I lift one foot and dip my toe into the water. It isn’t hot, but it’s not cold either. Slowly, I sink down into the water and start to lather the soap in my hand. Lifting it to my nose, I inhale and am pleasantly surprised to smell the scent of vanilla.
I don’t take too long to wash myself, too afraid that someone is going to burst in and see me in all of my naked glory, plus the water is cooling at an alarming rate.
Once I’m washed, and seriously wishing that I could stay in here for a while longer, just to smell the delicious scents that swirl around me, I let out a heavy sigh before I stand. On my way up, I grab a white linen cloth that is pretty thick, so I assume it’s a drying towel of some kind.
Stepping out onto another thick white linen, the water soaks the fabric immediately at my feet and I hurry to dry off the rest of my body, wrapping it around my nakedness as quickly as possible.
Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel Page 2
