“Hey. Keep your voice down.” He makes sure the door flap is closed, then motions for me to follow him deeper into the room. “Be careful what you say. Someone might hear you.”
“But—”
“Look, I know I don’t own you. But everybody else in this place? They can’t know that. If they find out the truth, they’ll kill you. And then me.”
“So they have to think you own me? Right. And you keep saying humans are uncivilized.”
“You can’t just go wandering around unclaimed. It’s dangerous. And they know you’re a St. George, so you’re really not supposed to be here. I’m responsible for you. Both for keeping you safe and for not letting you hurt anyone.”
“They think I’m going to hurt someone?”
“With your magic.”
“Magic I don’t have.”
“Shh! What the hell is wrong with you? Obviously I told them you did. I had to convince them we needed you. Elder clan has a St. George—we can’t let them get an advantage over us.”
“So you told them I can cast binding spells?”
“Better than your sister. And with you, we have the advantage. Celeste is a hostage, but I told them you were on our side, that you want to help us. Well, that you want to help me in particular.”
“Oh, yeah? Because right now, I kind of want to murder you in par—”
He claps a hand over my mouth. “Watch it, Virgin. You’re committing treason.”
I lick his palm. He immediately lets go, making a face.
“You don’t get to call me Virgin. Not when you’re one, too. And, anyway, I was joking.” Mostly.
“It’s still treason. You’re under enough suspicion as it is. The only reason either of us is here is because I convinced the court that I have control over you.”
“And because they think I can do magic.”
“You can.”
“I cast one spell, and it’s not even the one you told them I could do.” I keep my voice low, because maybe he has a point about not letting anyone overhear these things. “And I was only able to cast that one because you were . . . It was special circumstances. I can’t do it on command.”
“You don’t have to. Everyone just needs to think you can. And that you’re choosing not to and honoring your vow.”
“My vow. What, exactly, did I promise to do?”
He suddenly gets real interested in a book on the shelf.
“Amelrik?”
“It’s, uh, not important. Oh, look. Here’s one for you. Start with this.” He hands me another book.
This one is a lot thinner, with drawings, clearly meant for children. I think it might be the alphabet. “I don’t want to learn your language—I want to know what you said!”
He stares at me. “You hear what’s wrong with that, right?”
“You know what I mean! What did I promise?”
“Just your, uh, undying loyalty and devotion to me and to Hawthorne clan.”
“I did what?!”
A bell rings outside the entrance flap. Amelrik motions for me to be quiet and tells the servants to come in. It’s a guy and a girl, the same ones who were here before. The guy’s carrying a large silver tray with a cover over it, and the girl has a pile of folded-up clothing in her arms. Both of them are eyeing me warily.
While Amelrik tells them where to put everything, I sit down on his bed. Which is apparently amazing. The mattress is thick and full of down. The bedspread is velvet, and the sheets are a soft cotton. I flop backward and sink into the bedding. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this comfortable.
After the servants leave, Amelrik sits next to me. “It’s not a big deal. The vow you took, I mean.”
“Says you. I don’t go around pledging my undying devotion to just anyone.”
“Yeah, but you made that pledge to me, and I know it’s not real. You didn’t mean what you promised—you didn’t even know what you were promising—so it doesn’t count.”
I sit up, even though I kind of never want to move from this bed. “I pledged myself to you, and then you kissed me. So, what, they think we’re lovers?”
“Er . . . More like that you’re in love with me.”
Great. I’m really coming out ahead in this scenario. “And this has to do with getting Celeste back? Because I’m not seeing the connection.”
“You can’t cast the binding spell, and I can’t . . . We have to be smart about this, because that’s all we have.” He looks me over. “Well, all I have.”
“Thanks.”
“We’ll go during the Feast of Eventide. Everyone will be busy eating and watching the entertainment, including the royal family. Your sister won’t be allowed at the feast. She won’t be completely unguarded, but it’s our best chance.”
I’m quiet a second, taking that in. “And when is the Feast of Eventide?”
“In a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?!”
“This is what I was talking about. You’re freaking out about the delay.”
“But Celeste . . .”
“She’s too valuable—they won’t kill her. And we can’t rescue her if we’re dead, which is what we’ll be if we don’t go about this the right way.”
“But . . . Wait, so this Feast of Eventide, it’s just an Elder clan thing?”
“No. It’s one of the biggest holidays of the year.”
“So your clan’s having a big celebration, too, right? Won’t they notice if you don’t show up?”
He scoffs. “My father has never allowed me to go. So, no, they won’t.”
“Seriously?”
“Everyone has to be in dragon form to attend. He doesn’t feel that I meet the requirements.”
Ouch. “So you’ve never even been?”
“Oh, no. I went to all of the feasts that were held at Elder clan while I was living with them. The Elder king doesn’t share the same opinion about me as my own father. And anyway, I was a guest. It would have been rude for them to exclude me.”
“I think it was rude for your father to exclude you.”“It’s complicated.” He looks down at his hands. “You don’t understand.”
“I’m pretty sure I do. Just because he’s ashamed of you doesn’t mean—”
Amelrik inhales sharply, his whole body going tense. “My father doesn’t . . . He has good reason to feel how he does.”
“But—”
“Come on. We should eat before our food gets too cold. And you are not eating on my bed.”
“I wasn’t going to. But really, Amelrik, don’t you think it’s wrong for him to—”
“No, I don’t. And it’s really none of your business, so stay out of it.”
23
DAUGHTERS SHOULD GET MORE CREDIT
It’s later that evening. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s evening, even though it’s hard to tell, underground like this. We’ve eaten and bathed—bathed, with soap!—and changed into soft pajamas. I lie down on the bed again, and if I thought it was comfortable before, it’s even better now that I’m clean and full.
Who knew that running away with a dragon prince would have such benefits?
I climb under the covers and start to drift off, only to be startled awake when Amelrik clears his throat.
I open my eyes. He’s looming over me, looking pretty annoyed.
He folds his arms across his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“Not in my bed you’re not.”
“I’m your guest. Guests sleep in the bed.”
“I am a prince. Princes sleep in the bed. What if someone comes in and finds you there, and me . . .” He glances around, not seeing anywhere else to sleep. “. . . not? Do you know how that would look?”
“No one will come in unless you tell them to, right?” I am so tired, and so comfortable—I can’t imagine moving.
“Get up, Virginia. I’ll give you a blanket and a pillow. You can sleep on the floor.”
“The floor? The floor is made of rock. I just spent the last few nights on the ground, and now you’re going to make me sleep on a rock?”
“I spent the last few nights on the ground, too, and before that, I spent a week in a dungeon. Plus, it’s been six years since I slept in my own bed.”
“Uh, you lived with Elder clan for that long, right? Your bed there must have felt like yours.”
He makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “That’s not the point!”
He’s getting pretty worked up about this. I slide over so I’m only taking up one side. “Here. There’s room for both of us.”
“That’s not what I . . .” He takes a step back. “It’s inappropriate.”
“We slept closer than this on the ground that first night.” Which, okay, maybe was kind of inappropriate, but he didn’t have a problem with it then. “And everyone thinks we’re lovers, anyway, right? So if they see us sharing a bed, they won’t think anything of it. Or is there some rule against that?”
“Well, no, but . . .”
“Let me put it this way. I’m not moving. So you’re either going to have to sleep on the floor, or you’re going to have to sleep next to me.”
“But that’s . . . It’s my bed, and you don’t . . .” He sighs. “Fine. But scoot over more. And this is only for tonight. And only because I’m too tired to argue with you.” He douses the lights, then comes back and climbs in, leaving as much space between us as possible.