“Begging you to stay would be a waste of breath,” she says, answering my unasked question. “Besides, I know you mean to find the others and ensure they’re safe. I want that just as much as you, but I don’t have the courage to leave here.”
“You do. You just don’t know it yet, and I pray you never have to find it.”
“Just be safe,” she whispers with a nod.
Slipping from the window, I don’t hesitate as I scurry across the window ledge. The fall no longer terrifies me as I leap from one ledge to another. There are far worse things in this life than falling to my death. Chills run along my arms as I consider the torture that I’m sure the other women have experienced. They might agree that death would be a welcome escape. I only hope that Hazel was right, and the Grey Prince is desperate enough to not off them.
I reach the empty sitting room in record time, moving swiftly across it to the servant’s corridor. I only pause as I note the set of footsteps from the previous night. Should any of the guards or castle staff happening across this room, I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to guess what’s happened here. I hesitate for a moment before using my own feet to erase the footsteps. The process of doing it doesn’t sit well with me. It’s almost as though I’m erasing the other three women.
If there was anyone waiting for me back in the city, would they be doing something similar? Erasing me because the thought of never seeing me again is too painful to bear. I’m not sure. I’ve never belonged. Not to anyone or really any place, if I’m honest. That never bothered me. It meant I could slip about and do what I needed to survive without any guilt. I never cared that it meant my death wouldn’t be noted. I’d just be another body tossed away. Now, though, I wish there was someone that held my memory in their mind. A friend to worry about my safety. The women here, they all must have someone at home. There must be family and friends that are worried for Isabelle, Ava, and Sophia. Or have their families already mourned them, knowing they would never come back?
Determination fills me. I won’t let their families down. Or them. I will find them and ensure they are safe. Even if it means sacrificing my own hopes of leaving. It’s not like I plan to anytime soon, not with Lyra still here. Closing my eyes, I note that I can’t protect everyone. Yet, that doesn’t mean I won’t try. These women have never faced what I have. They don’t know the cruelty of men who seek only one thing. I pray none of them have ever been broken as I have, my body and peace stolen from me by someone that cares so little for me they can easily ignore the pain they push onto me.
I retrace my steps from the first day I sought my freedom here. The room where I came across the Grey Prince, and the woman is the last place I want to return to. But I have no choice. I can only hope the guard said nothing to the prince, and he’s continued to use it. That he brought the women there. Perhaps, they’re just to be held apart from us until the Choosing has ended. The thought is better than the one sneaking up behind it, whispering that it’s already too late.
“They’re alive,” I hiss to myself.
It doesn’t matter that I could be overheard. I need to remind myself. This isn’t the city. Yes, most of the women in the hall will be dead by the next moon. But it’s too early. I’m still in control. The wolves are still not an immediate threat. I still have time.
The corridor is empty outside the room. Still, I stay to the shadows. I thought it was empty last time as well, and it wasn’t. I wait for minutes until I’m confident that I won’t be intercepted before I dash toward the cracked door. Pale sunlight pushes through the heavy curtains, revealing an empty room. I frown as I move further into the room. Nothing. It’s empty. Not even a couch or painting to make it feel less hollow.
Turning, I’m about to leave when my eyes land on a door to my left, Similar to the one in the sitting room that leads to the servant’s corridor. Except, this one has a heavy lock. I pause for just a heartbeat before I’m crossing the room. Pulling a pin from my hair, I set to work. Growing up on the streets, it didn’t take me long to learn that light fingers and certain skills would keep me alive. I found someone willing to show me how to pick a lock and mastered the skill, slipping into closed stores in the evenings until I was confident in my abilities to never have a lock stop me.
Several seconds pass before the lock clicks, and the door slips open. I step inside, unprepared for what I find. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light seeping into the small room. When they do, I frown down at the red-stained marble. My slippers stick to the floor as I move into the room. Crouching, I reach for the dark cloth covering the items in here, curious to learn what’s been locked away.
Lifting the cloth, my stomach lurches. A hand falls away from a mutilated body. I can’t even tell if the body belonged to a human, much less if it was once a woman or male. Deep marks gore through it, shredding away any identity to who this person was. My blood runs cold as I stumble away, falling hard on my butt.
My eyes roam around the room full of covered bodies. Bile rises in my throat as I push myself up to my feet. I know I should turn around and go, but I can’t. Not until I know how many lives have been lost. Pulling the fabric, I bite back the scream that rises. More bodies than I want to count are piled before me. I move to turn my back as my eyes land on a tuft of blonde hair.
Tears sting my eyes as I move toward it. Her face is torn, just her long blonde curls remaining. Sophia. I move, just barely making it to the next room before losing my breakfast. Gasping, tears and snot mix on my face. That is not the fate that she deserved. That anyone deserves. Falling to my knees, I let the sobs wrack through me as I realize what happened to her. To the others, though, I didn’t make out their bodies in there.
Collapsing into a mess on the floor, I pull my knees to my chest. I let the tears come as I cry for Sophia. For Isabelle and Ava. For every poor soul that now lies broken in that room. How the Grey Prince could destroy them and then just toss them aside, I have no idea. He’s worse than I thought. Worse than the monster everyone believes him to be.
I stay curled on the floor, drowning in tears, until I realize it’s getting dark in the room. Pulling myself up, I glance back at the room. I can’t bring myself to return to see if Isabelle and Ava are there. There’s a chance that they aren’t. Yet.
Footsteps shatter the silence around me, and I scramble away from the room. I need to return to the other woman. Rage fills me as I slip into the shadows. I cling to it, letting my grief disappear. Hasn’t the Grey Prince stolen enough from us? There’s a room full of women that I worry will join those in the small room. Tossed aside without a care after finally meeting their deaths.
18
Rose
Isay nothing to Lyra when I return to the hall. She takes one look at me, though, and I get the feeling that she knows what I found. Her silence at my side is enough confirmation, though neither of us wants to give voice to the truth. Crawling into bed that night, I know my nightmares will be haunted by the bodies in the room not far from here.
After a restless night, we’re awoken earlier than usual. The sun has just begun to lighten the sky when Ms. Thompson and her army of maids appear. She is grim-faced as she orders us out of bed. Her eyes moving along us, her lips pressing into their familiar thin line.
“Today is the Choosing,” she announces.
My heart thuds in my chest at her words. I barely pay attention to the maid that approaches me. Her cold fingers startle me as she pulls off my nightgown. I’m not given the chance to protest before she sets about washing me with fragrant cold water. Shivering despite myself, I glance down the row of women. Some seem eager, even excited, for what is to come. Most are glassy-eyed and quiet as their maids clean them.
“You will be silent during the event,” Ms. Thompson says. “No, not meet the eyes of the wolves. Do not speak out of turn, or at all for that matter. Being Unchosen is not a better option. Remember that. The prince will only accept one of you to be his. There are other wolves that are seeking mate.”
I glance at Lyra. She’s gone pale, her eyes misty as she nods to Ms. Thompson’s words. I won’t let the prince have her. He would break her too easily. Then come for another. I’m not sure there’s anyway to stop him, but I’ll think of something. I have to. The prince’s savage appetite is unquenchable, but I’m not about to lose anyone else to him.
“Should you find yourself Chosen, be thankful. A life of luxury awaits you. The prince will first select his Chosen then select from those that remain for the men that have proven themselves most loyal to him.”
“And the rest?” someone asks.
Ms. Thompson is quiet for a moment. “The Unchosen will be dealt with after the Choosing has completed. You do not want to be among their ranks. That is all I can say, I’m afraid."