Page 100 of Escape from the Green

I realized it when his eyes started to roam over me. And even through the petals, I felt like he was seeing entirely too much.

"I have," he agreed, nodding. "And it seems you have fleshed out a fair bit. Someone put you to work doing manual labor?"

"I'm still not big enough to take down one of those men."

"Not with your bare hands, no. But there are things easily used as weapons. There are vials of poisons. There are ways Amethyst, if you want them badly enough to utilize them. But make sure you pick the right time. Make sure your aim is sure or the dosage is enough. Because if you are caught, I can't help you."

"What would my punishment be?" I asked, having some morbid desire to know.

"Flaying. If you survive that, burning."

My stomach flipped over as I swallowed back the horror of that. Even as a possibility, a rule and punishment that existed for breaking it was petrifying, inexcusably evil.

"You asked," Jet reminded me, voice cool.

"You would really be able to stand there and watch someone get flayed alive?"

"Amy, fuck. When are you going to get it? This is not the place for weak stomachs and consciences and mercy. Stop being naive. Stop expecting the best in those around you. This is the Dark Court. There is no good in anyone here." With that, he stood, stalking to the door. He left the door open, coming in with a pile of fresh clothing. "Take your time, but there will be food waiting when you are finished."

With that, he was gone, closing the door a bit roughly, the slam hard enough to make me jump even if I was expecting it.

As I washed my hair, rinsed, dried off, and climbed into the clothing he provided - undergarments with what I would need to maintain my moonsickness, pants made of the softest material available, wide of leg and high of waist in a creamy color and a tunic-style top of deep navy blue, I decided he was wrong.

There was good in this court.

Even if it only resided within him.

And then only in a very small quantity.

"Better," Jet decided when I walked out feeling refreshed, clear-headed, clean-bodied.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Now, you eat. And pretend to be - if not in love with me - then resigned to your fate as my future Queen."

"Resigned it is," I agreed, moving over toward the bed to the tray of food set there.

From his position propped up in a reading chair, legs spread a bit, hands steepled on his stomach, watching me with those honey-brown eyes of his, his lips curved up ever so slightly.

"Can't even pretend to love me, can you?"

"Not any more than you could pretend to love me," I shot back, shrugging as my fingers found a plump blackberry, the likes of which I hadn't seen since the human realm. They were out of season. But then again, this was the Dark Court. I was sure they had greenhouses solely to feed themselves, tended to by slaves who starved.

"Don't worry. The food isn't enchanted. I fetched it myself."

"You know how to fetch food? Color me surprised."

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

"Well, when stacked up against a man who would happily flay and burn me, I think you are relatively not scary."

"Don't let him hear you say that. I'd never get the throne if he heard of so much weakness within me."

"I don't think kindness is a weakness," I told him, holding in a groan as the berry broke apart in my mouth. Was it possible for things to taste purple? Because it tasted purple. And ripe. And perfect. One day, I would grow my own blackberries. Make a day of picking it with my children, eating so many we'd get belly aches, then taking it home to preserve as jam for the colder months.

One day.

When I got out of this place.