"Please, tell me where he is sending me," she pleaded with the captain of the guard, but he remained silent, only grunting as he helped the others force her into the carriage.
Had she had her wits about her, she might have noticed the royal emblem that had been stitched onto the door of the carriage, but in her terrified state, she was anything but observing
The carriage door slammed shut behind her, and she kicked at it with her bare feet even as she heard the padlock being slid into place. There were no windows to see through as they had been carefully shuttered and likely also locked from the outside.
All she could do was sit back against the cushioned wall and massage her now sore feet. She had scraped them on the shingle of the courtyard floor in her frantic fight to escape the men dragging her away, and when she lifted her hands, she found them bloodied.
Tears dripped from her cheeks as she watched the crimson liquid dripping from her palms, and the scent of iron stayed with her the entire ride.
Several times she found her voice, calling to the fae who had to be sitting on the driver's bench above her head, but there never came a response.
The noise of gravel beneath the wheels was silenced with a jostling of the carriage and Iris could only guess that it was not horses or unicorns pulling the carriage, but pegasi.
At least we will reach our destination faster, she thought, trying to regain some semblance of calm.
Her body was sore and tender after the abuse of the last few weeks, and once she finally managed to calm herself, she realized that, at least tonight, she would have a break from it. Tonight, Perivale would not force himself upon her. Tonight, she was alone.
The gentle rocking of the flying carriage lulled Iris's tension away, and after half an hour, she found she could barely keep her eyes open. The adrenaline that had fueled her body during her roughhousing was gone.
When the carriage jarred roughly, hitting the ground once more, Iris jumped up from where she had been slumped in the corner of the carriage. Her head collided with the roof, and she winced as she was forced back down onto the bench.
She grimaced as her wings were crinkled behind her, leaning forward to stretch them out in the small confines of the carriage.
The noise of wheels scraping earth sounded for a few moments, and the carriage rocked awkwardly from side to side before coming to an abrupt halt that made Iris reach out for the far wall.
A moment later, she could hear the sound of metal on metal, and the padlock slipping from its fastening.
When the door was yanked open, Iris was instantaneously blinded by the orange light of dawn that illuminated the figure of a tall, gangly fae with small, circular shaped wings that couldn't possibly have carried him more than a few meters.
"Miss Iris?" The fae's voice was rough, but not unfriendly.
How does he know my name? Iris thought.
"Please, do come out. I would hate to have to send the guards to restrain you," the man announced. Choosing not to be manhandled again, Iris rose, crouching awkwardly against the roof of the carriage, and stumbled out.
She was surprised when the fae man offered her a hand. Though it was cool and clammy, she was grateful for the help. Her feet tangled in the sheer material of her nightgown, and had it not been for his hand, she might have fallen flat on her face.
The moment she found herself planted firmly on the floor, she looked up into the face of the man who had helped her.
His creamy, pale face was surrounded by a mass of dark olive hair that matched his eyes perfectly. His wings were a mere shade off and peppered with flecks of forest green.
"Miss Iris, welcome." He bowed respectfully causing Iris's breath to catch in her throat. Nobody had treated her respectfully since her father had sent her away. She couldn't even remember the last time someone had spoken to her as though she were a person and not a possession.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice so small that she worried he might not have heard her.
The man's face broke into a beaming smile that dazzled with amusement.
"Take a look around and I’m sure you will guess," he responded, gesturing with an arc of his long, silk coated arm.
Following his arm, Iris drew in another astonished gasp. She stood upon a marble plateau at the base of what could only be described as a mountain. Buildings of white marble and stone had been set into the mountain side, bright spots of pale color in an otherwise green landscape. Around her was a giant marble courtyard that almost felt as if it were an entryway for the mountain itself.
"Welcome to the Spring Palace," the man announced.
The...the Spring Palace? As in the residence of the Spring King? Iris couldn't bring herself to ask the questions out loud.
Instead, she asked, "Why am I here?"
The man's face dropped then, and he grumbled, "Perivale."