A Song of Dreams and Nightmares by Jenni G. Pierson

Author:Jenni G. Pierson [Pierson, Jenni G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-29T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 17

As I walked down the darkened passages to his side of the manor, I was achingly aware of every echoing thud of my soft-soled pumps on the glossy stone floors. The last time I felt this out of place was when I first arrived before I got to know Arwin. In the distance, I heard voices. Although they were too far to make out their words, the mixture of panic and concern was unmistakable.

I jerked to a halt before I rounded the corner, listening, waiting.

“It’s all her fault. It’s because of her and that damned bargain,” Arwin’s brother, Andrew, said, keeping his toned clipped as he tried to harness his agitation. “You heard what the Pythia said in the street when she saw the girl. She called her a thief. She shouldn’t still be breathing!”

“What are you suggesting, Andrew?” his mother, Ardelia, asked.

Her voice was as smooth as the velvet on Arwin’s favourite couch, but her version concealed danger, a harnessed rage, instead of facilitating comfort.

“I say we get rid of her before he wakes up. Send her to the dungeon,” Andrew added, clearing his throat. “If he wakes up.”

“My son will awake,” she scolded him.

“Your son,” he mocked. “You are ever so loyal to my deceptive, conniving twin, a thief. Perhaps he deserves the human girl, after all.”

“Hold your tongue!” Ardelia snapped. “It was your choice, Andrew. You chose to put your title on the line, not him.”

She hissed the whisper, laced with venom. “You were an idiot.”

“He wasn’t supposed to win!” he snarled in answer.

“And you weren’t supposed to gamble your future away because you were hungry and desired a hot plate of food. It was you who gave it to him. You know your brother. You know the effect he has on females.”

“But she was my mate. She was supposed to choose me. The universe intended for her to choose me, not bed my brother.”

I stumbled back a step, feeling as though I were going to gag. The Prince of Tarts… I was intruding. Not looking where I was going, I bumped into a tall ornamental vase. It was as tall as me and fell to the floor, shattering to pieces before I had the chance to catch it. The noise was deafening. There was no way anyone within a five-mile radius could miss that.

No, no, no, no, no…

I dropped to my knees, trying to gather the pieces. There were too many. Footsteps echoed from around the corner, loud and purposeful, getting closer and closer. There was no way I’d be able to clean this mess without being caught, so, like a coward, I dropped the shards, gathered my skirt in my hands, and ran. My heart hammered against my ribs, muscles twitching with the need to get out of sight. Please, please, please… don’t see me.

Out of time, I ducked between the broad stone arches at the entrance to the hall. Sucking in a breath, I flattened myself to the wall. The golden doors were as cold as ice against my skin.

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