Page 32 of Gilded Curses

Lunch, a tour of the grounds afterward, and another big dinner all passed in a blur. By the time Sahira could retreat to her room for the night, she was ready to collapse. She’d barely eaten anything for the past two days, and while her stomach rumbled, the idea of putting food in it also made it rebel.

An entourage of women in white followed her into her room and helped unbutton the elaborate dress they’d changed her into before dinner. Elsa, Zeth, Loth, and Fath had also all retired for the night, but Orin and Pip remained at the table.

Because of this, she had more women than normal crowding into her room. She almost screamed at them to get out but bit back the words. She wasn’t as good at playing the game as Orin, but she still had to pretend at least a little.

If she didn’t know any better, she would think Orin was beginning to like this realm and its hideous occupants. A small part of her questioned her conviction that he wasn’t.

The woman who normally worked with Orin went to her closet, disappeared inside, and returned with a robe and nightgown. She dumped them both on the bed, turned, and stalked out of the room as if Sahira were nothing more than an annoyance to tolerate.

Sahira retreated into the bathroom, where she showered for far longer than normal while scrubbing her skin clean. She’d give anything to escape this realm and forget everything she’d seen here, but she had no idea how they could break free.

From everything she’d seen, they were more trapped here than in Belda’s town. When she finally finished in the shower, she dried herself off and trudged out to the bedroom.

She pulled on the nightgown and the robe. When she slid her fingers into the robe’s pockets, they brushed against something inside.

Frowning, Sahira pulled out the small parchment and opened it to read…

Meet me in the garden. 2 a.m. Destroy this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Orin sipped his wine and set it down while the dagadon laughed loudly. Their faces were flushed from too much drink as they swayed in their seats. Though he also cast his voice to yell like he was a drunken mess too, he had a high tolerance for alcohol and barely felt its effects tonight.

He would have preferred not to drink, but that wouldn’t go unnoticed by those who poured the goblets. So, he drank far more than he would have liked, but staying sober was easier when his and Sahira’s lives were on the line. Not to mention the others.

Almost everyone else had retreated, but Pip remained on his shoulder, sipping wine from a tiny chalice they must have forged the second the brownies entered this realm. He would do whatever it took to protect her too.

Desmond’s boisterous laughter rebounded off the walls. The others were much happier tonight too. Apparently, watching some poor soul getting tortured by dogs was a mood enhancer for these cheap, gold knockoffs.

“Tell me, Orin,” Desmond said as he turned to face him.

Wine sloshed out of his goblet and onto the table. It had barely landed on the smooth surface before someone scurried forward to wipe it away.

Orin plastered on a smile as he twirled his drink between his fingers and waited to hear what the red-faced man had to say. On his shoulder, Pip shifted before settling into place again.

“What was your least favorite part of The Tournament?” Desmond inquired.

Next to Desmond, Sheree watched him with fascination. He had yet to see these two do more than kiss on the cheek.

Cole and Lexi didn’t make him want to run screaming from the room with their love, but it was obvious. These two acted more like roommates than lovers but were never apart.

A few hundred years with one immortal probably leads to a lot less affection and sex.

He inwardly shuddered at the possibility of being tied to someone for centuries and living a sexless existence…. Sahira’s amber eyes swam through his mind, and something inside him softened. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with her and the sex had only gotten better between them, not worse.

Are you really thinking this? Orin lifted his goblet to stare at it. Maybe the wine had gotten to him more than he realized.

Shifting his attention back to the strange couple beside him, he studied them as he tried to puzzle them out. Had Desmond forced Sheree into this marriage?

It would be highly unusual for an immortal to do such a thing, as marriage was sacred to them, but from what he’d seen of Desmond, the man had no respect for anything. Orin doubted he drew the line at marriage.

It made sense if he had somehow coerced her into this, as Sheree was exceptionally beautiful. Desmond was the type who sought only the best for himself.

“Yes, please do tell,” Sheree said as she sipped her wine.

Orin recalled Desmond’s question about his least favorite part of The Tournament. He wasn’t about to tell him, and the suddenly rapt table, that his least favorite part was the uncertainty… the constant not knowing if they were making the right choices. The uncertainty had gnawed at him like a mouse on cheese.

He also wouldn’t tell them he’d feared he couldn’t get Sahira out of there alive, or they’d all die while wandering the Barren Lands. That would only make them happy.