Page 32 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

My eyebrows may very well have vanished into my hair.

“A walk?” I gasped in mockery. “How benevolent of you.”

Whatever sliver of tolerance—or indifference—the king had for me the previous night was no longer in the room with us.

Maksym exhaled sharply through his nose, like I’d offended his ancestors, as he rifled through the pile, spreading each article of clothing out and retrieving a slim vial tucked in it all.

“Take this.” He jutted the glass towards me between two of his slim, pale gray fingers, and its silvery contents sloshed inside. “My benevolence will not extend to you painting the halls of my Keep with your sick.”

I gave it a long stare before taking it from him with caution, but I almost dropped the fucking thing when he grasped my hand so damned fast, my bones ached.

He leaned in a little closer as he added, “And trust me, Miss Wynn, if I wanted to poison you, I would’ve just had Gallan do it the first time he gave you curatives without your knowing. So don’t even go there.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Very fair.”

He released me, and I uncorked the glass, giving its contents a cursory sniff. It smelled like nothing, and I wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

Maksym watched intently from my periphery as I said fuck it and shot the entire thing back in one gulp that burned a little as it slid down in a slimy lump. I suppressed the overwhelming urge to gag as I replaced the cork and tossed the vial onto my bed.

“Happy?” I asked, and Maksym just scoffed, his arms folded across his chest.

“Get up and get dressed.”

I rose on legs that were a little uneasy and mirrored his stance, jutting my hip out for good measure. “Are you planning on watching me do that too, or does your benevolence extend to a measure of privacy for your prisoners?”

Goddess above, if looks could kill, I’d be in ribbons on the floor, mixed in with all the detritus.

“That you’ve made it this far with that mouth is astounding,” he muttered as he gave me his back but did not move to leave my cell.

If the dark fae king thought he was in any position to intimidate me with his presence, he was sorely mistaken.

A true princess may have balked at the concept of a strange man in her remote vicinity as she dressed, but I wore my cavalry soldier's mantle with pride. Nudity was something I had learned to have little shame over, not after living in barracks housing and command posts for months at a time, or sharing tents and bathing in rivers with my squadmates.

The slimy tonic the king had given me was working, because I felt as ready as ever to go toe to toe with him. I trusted the rest of my body would get the memo soon too.

“You know, I’d say my mouth is one of my more redeeming qualities,” I said as I shucked my loose prisoner shirt and tossed it right at Maksym’s feet.

He tensed and kicked it to the side with the toe of his boot. “I’d rather not hear anything about your past conquests, Miss Wynn.”

A burst of laughter clawed its way out of my lungs as I tugged on the maroon blouse set out on my cot. Its wide, ruffled collar was just big enough to hang off my shoulders, and its hem brushed the tops of my thighs.

“I mean, I’m always happy to trade stories, but who said anything about conquests?” My threadbare pants were next to go, replaced by a black, flowy skirt that sat high on my waist and was a little shorter in the front than the back. “I’ll have you know, I have an astounding repertoire of jokes, Your Majesty, and I’ve never met a tavern tune I couldn’t master in a night.”

Maksym’s broad shoulders sagged. “Wonderful.”

“It is.”

Tugging on the ankle boots came next before I pulled on the vest, made of supple black suede, and spent a moment fighting with its hook-and-tie closure. Not a single bit of the outfit actually fit properly, but it was a stark improvement from the clothes that were about to grow if I spent another day stewing in them.

“There.” I gave myself a quick smooth-down. “Where are you taking me?”

Maksym turned and gave me an appraising glance with his amber-black eyes before he exited my cell. He raised his hand in the air and beckoned back towards me, leaving me to scramble after him like a hunting hound.

This would be the man who positioned marriage to him like it were a positive.

We headed in the same direction as the night before, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Maksym was planning on taking me back to see the charred bodies of my friends, really drive home my situation. But just as we approached the stairwell, the king yanked open a metal door so dark and tarnished, it blended right in with the stone.

The stairs beyond it went up.