Song of Blood and Stone by L. Penelope

Author:L. Penelope
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Master of Monkeys built a maze to dissuade those who would visit his home.

He received no visitors.

—COLLECTED FOLKTALES

Jasminda had thought him beautiful in dirty fatigues and covered in bruises and blood, but in his royal uniform and freshly trimmed hair, he was nothing short of divine. The spark of hope she’d held inside, the one she’d foolishly allowed to grow into a tiny flame, flickered then snuffed itself out completely.

Jack—Prince Jack—sat stiffly at the raised table mere steps away from her. His face was a rigid mask. He looked straight ahead, acknowledging no one.

The head butler was speaking again, making announcements about the dinner, the soup, the ingredients, but Jasminda’s attention was wholly focused on the man in front of her.

Gone was the ragged creature she’d discovered on the mountain and thought mad, the bruised and bloodied soldier who had sacrificed himself to protect a woman he didn’t know. A woman who could have been his enemy. When did he become this statue sitting before her, neither warrior nor poet, but prince?

The coronation must have happened as soon as he’d arrived in the palace, but even more than the shock at his new position, she couldn’t believe how his whole nature seemed to have transformed. The light in his eyes that had withstood capture, gunshots, and beatings was now dimmed.

The kindly butler approached and cleared his throat politely, placing his hands on her chair. She pulled her attention away from Jack to find that she was the only one still standing. As every eye in the room, except Jack’s, bored into her, she took her seat as gracefully as possible, smoothing her dress and thanking the butler in a trembling voice as he slid her chair in.

Her hands shook. She flattened them on the table, imprinting the grooves of the wood onto her palms. Anger flared hot for a moment, then melted just as suddenly into despair. Neither emotion would help her. She was lost in an unforgiving sea. There was no way to escape the glares from around the room, and the one person who had given her comfort during these past days of upheaval was now a stranger to her.

Tears stabbed the backs of her eyes. She used every trick she could to hold them back, resorting to digging her nails into the inside of her elbow until she could focus on the external pain a little more than the internal.

The first course began, and chatter resumed around the room. The soup set before her was completely foreign. The stunning silverware of her place setting offered four spoons. Jasminda took a deep breath and clasped her hands together, darting glances around the table. The woman next to her had already chosen a spoon, and Jasminda couldn’t see from her position which one it had been.

She didn’t want to make a misstep. Jack had invited her here, whatever his reasons were, whoever he was now, and she was determined to get through this meal with as much dignity as she could muster.

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