At my side, the maid pulls a dark grey dress over my head. I barely fight her hands as she ties them a bit too tightly, causing me to suck in a breath. She's quick to finish dressing me before moving to my hair. My limp braids are undone, my hair brushed before being braided again and pinned to my head. All before I can manage to get any words out, not that I think they'd make any difference.
The transformation is quick. We arrived as dirty women, and now we look like true ladies of the court. My stomach tightens as Ms. Thompson nods her head once in approval. The maids disappear, and we're left alone with the woman who runs her eyes over us.
"Keep your mouths shut," she tells us. "Your heads down, eyes on the floor. You will not speak to him tonight, nor will you until he seeks you out. Not following the rules of the court will result in punishment dealt out by myself. Am I understood?"
A quiet acknowledgment of what she's said leaves the women's lips. I remain quiet. Nothing here is what I expected. I knew cruelty would be aplenty here. But I wasn't expecting a human to be the one dealing it out.
"Follow me."
My feet move before I realize I'm obeying the woman's command. I blame it on my exhaustion and hunger as we step into a long corridor. White marble floors and light gray stone make up the inside of the palace. There's little luxury here, but I suspect we're in the servant's part of the castle. This is confirmed when we step into a hall. Thick carpets line the floor and delicate tapestries hand from the walls. At the end of the hall is a small dais with a single golden throne atop it.
A man lounges in the chair, a goblet in one hand as he watches us. Chills cascade down my back as his eyes flicker across my face. This is the man responsible for the Choosing. The one that declared that humans would fill the void left by the strange plague that wiped away the female wolves ability to produce heirs decades ago. Anger and hatred fill me as he sips from his goblet.
"These are the choices?" he asks.
"Yes, your highness," Ms. Thompson replies as she drops into a deep curtsy before him.
He sets aside his goblet before standing. His long silver hair falls over one shoulder as his cold grey eyes sweep over us once more. I see the disappointment flash in them as he waves a hand toward us before reaching once more for the goblet.
"I was expecting a better selection this year," he says before taking a long pull from the goblet. "Have the humans run out of women then?"
No one answers his questions as he eyes Ms. Thompson before glancing behind us. Turning, I glance at the guards that have appeared there. Their bodies are rigid as their prince watches them. A moment of silence stretches until the Grey Prince lets out a sigh.
"Well, I suppose I should welcome you to my court," he says. "I would say make yourself comfortable, but I doubt any of you will be here for that long. Do try and not disappoint me while you are here."
With that, he sits back down and turns his gaze away from us. Ms. Thompson hesitates for a moment before herding us back out. Just like that, we've been introduced and dismissed in a matter of seconds. My head spins as I step from the room.
10
Rose
Ms. Thompson leads us through the empty castle halls. The women around me whisper to one another about the luxury and wealth dripping from the walls. I ignore them. Having seen the coldness oozing off the prince, I know I need to leave. He won't take kindly to knowing I don't meet his criteria. I am too old and used for his purposes. That's fine by me. Living in a place like this doesn't appeal to me. Not when I know the steep price that I'd have to pay for such a life.
My eyes take in the guards standing in the shadows, watching us, and the windows overlooking gardens and courtyards. Leaving might be a challenge. But that doesn't deter me. I don't intend to stay more than a night here before slipping away before my presence can truly be noted.
We're led away from the main part of the castle to a distant wing. The gardens outside give way to imposing cliffside and trees as we step into a long hall. A simple wooden table sits in the middle of the room, laden full of food. My stomach gives a loud growl, reminding me that I've only had bites of bread and water for the last few days. With a watering mouth, I follow the women ahead of me toward the table.
"Eat," Ms. Thompson says.
I'm wary at her command as I take in the piles of meat and vegetables before me. The other women hesitate as well. Slowly, one reaches forward for a chicken breast. I watch her bite into it before filling my own plate. It's more food than I've ever seen in my entire life, and it takes a great deal of self-control to not shove as much as possible into my mouth. Biting into it, I'm surprised at just how delicious the food is. It's unlike anything I've had before, stolen or paid for by my own coin.
As I eat, I feel Ms. Thompson's eyes on me. I do my best to not stare back at her, to not show I'm just as curious about her being her as she is about me. It seems wrong that she's helping herd these young women to their deaths. If I were in her shoes, I'd do my best to ensure the women aren't being slaughtered by the wolves. But she doesn't seem to care about us. I saw the way her eyes widened when the Grey Prince glanced at us. She's betrayed her own kind for a beautiful but cold, face. I'm not sure I can keep the disgust from showing on my face if I were to meet her eyes. That's the last thing I want. I don't need her suspicious of me.
The meal is over quickly once we've filled our stomachs with the food. Ms. Thompson waits a moment before nodding and motioning for us to rise. We follow her once again through the winding halls and spiraling staircases of the castle. They have the feel of a maze to them, a way to confuse visitors and ensure they can't go poking around where they shouldn't. This does little to deter me. If anything, I'm more determined to escape the others and conquer the winding halls.
We're taken to another long hall. This one is filled with simple cots, each with a single pillow and a large light gray blanket. I move through the crowd until I reach the back of the room, nearest the large window. A smile pulls at my lips as I stare out at the cliff beyond the window. I'm sure it's meant to deter the women from thoughts of escape. For me, though, it just encourages it. Standing next to the bed, I take in the simple nightgown lain across the bed.
"You are to remain in here unless escorted to the dining hall," Ms. Thompson says, her voice carrying through the hall. "There are guards posted at the doors. Should you require anything, they will fetch it for you. I will wake you each morning and prepare you for the day. When you are summoned by the prince, I will escort you."
She gives a nod, satisfied that she's relied the rules, before turning on her heel. The large oak doors close behind her. Locking us into the room. Around me, the other women hesitate before reaching for the nightgown. My eyes move over them, taking them in. They've transformed from filthy and afraid into true young ladies. I feel even more out of place as I stare down at the nightgown.
"They truly expect us to sleep like animals?" one woman asks.
Another woman giggles at her words, "Even the servants at home have their own quarters. Better than this."
"And the food," a third girl throws out. "It was terrible. Not a single sweet to be seen. Nor anything I'd want to actually eat."
I blink as I listen to them. Their words are far from the cries and pleas from the last few days. It's strange to think that all it's taken them is a bath and clean dresses to find their personalities again. I'm also surprised that any of them expect us to be treated as anything better than the lowly beings the wolves see us as. It's as though they've forgotten why we're here.