The guard forced me to change in front of him, because he was “required” to return my garments to the royal family. Feeling wholly embarrassed, I stripped down and handed him my blue velvet gown, which I had peed in during the night.
I wanted to ask the guard for more information—when I would see Lethe again, if he would come back and give me food, if he would bring me another change of clothes tomorrow—but I could tell by the disgust in his eyes that this guard only spoke to me because he had been ordered by a member of the royal family to do so. The ice people, it was clear, maintained deep and abiding prejudices toward all non-ice people.
I let him leave, and I wandered to the high window at the very top of my cell. The dungeon was much larger than I had thought, but I saw no other cells with windows save this one. Even this single window was so lonely. It was small, and it was barred, and it looked out onto a low and milky sky.
I wound my arms tightly around myself, realizing that this gown was much thinner than the other gown had been, and that meant I would get much colder.
I wished Theon was here.
Hours passed; I was too tired to remain awake, waiting for someone to come with more news, trying to find a way out by my hopeless self. I slipped off to sleep, my head resting on a clot of straw in one corner, the rest of my body shuddering and shivering on icy stone.
My dreams were chaotic and garbled. Theon came to rescue me, but then, as we embraced, he transformed into Lethe. The flames became icicles dancing over our bodies. Michelle danced into my cell and tore him away from me. She laughed, and blue scales coursed over her face and entire body. She ballooned out, as I had seen Theon do, and became a dragon. An ice dragon? But then the ice melted, and the water boiled, and Theon returned to me. He swept me up into his arms and I moaned his name in gratitude. My heart leapt in a burst of joy; had it only been days since I had last seen him? It felt like years. His warm amber eyes gleamed down at me, his complexion aglow with gold and rose. I threaded my fingers through his hair—which I remembered as being thicker, wavier, and shorter—and drew him close, both of our mouths opening eagerly for a kiss of greeting. But as his tongue filled my mouth, a blade of horror plunged into my breast.
His tongue was cold.
As cold as ice.
My eyes bulged open.
The ice prince’s frigid hands slid around me, pulling me upright. I continued to kiss him because I had to; what would he have done to me if I had reared away from him and displayed all the disappointment I had felt in that moment? Would I have not been shackled to the wall again? Would I have not been forced to urinate on myself while waiting for a guard?
But on the inside, my heart tore into a deep schism.
Our lips separated, and I was glad. I didn’t know how much longer I could do this. Lethe wasn’t a bad guy, really… he was just a little mad, but who wouldn’t be, given his life story? That didn’t mean I had to love him, though. It was even possible that I couldn’t love him. Who knew why we loved the people we did? And yet it was abundantly clear that he loved me. Why? We’d only just met, and yet he had attached himself to me with the readiness and trust of an abandoned child.
“Penelope,” Lethe said. He did have gorgeous eyes. Unlike Theon’s, which were always so steady, Lethe’s seemed to swirl like the interior of a snow globe. “You don’t deserve this.”
My throat clutched around my esophagus. Was he going to set me free after all? Return me to Beggar’s Hole, Maine? And, ultimately, Theon?
“Just look at yourself. You have hay in your hair. Your feet are so, so dirty. And your wrists…” His fingers traveled to my red wrists, and the chill of his lips was a relief when they kissed across that raw flesh. “My love, nobility such as yours demands a room in a palace. Not a cell in a dungeon.” Wrapping his frigid palms around my wrists, he pulled me to my feet. I shuddered with gratitude for the numbness that his touch provided. “Did the guard give you my messages?”
I nodded, relieved to be removed from the dungeon, and disappointed to be remaining in the castle. “He told me that it was your father’s order, not yours, that I be removed to the dungeon,” I said, even though Lethe had certainly seemed at the time as if the idea had been his own. “And he told me that you had been the one to demand that I have a cell by myself.” Lethe seemed to be demanding more of me, so I went on, “Thank you,” however uncomfortable. It was hard to be thankful for much surrounded by so many in need, including myself.
“That wasn’t the only thing I wished for him to tell you.” Lethe led me through the cell, opening the door and closing it behind himself, then pulling me toward the second stairwell. The dungeon was so large, I could not even see the first stairwell. I could only gaze into the distance, a row of cells and manacles tapering off into shadow.