Read Online Betrothed by Jill Myles - Free Book Online Page B

tightly shut eyes eased open. She had to blink hard to clear the focus of white from her eyes, but when she did, she could make out an opulent chamber, the windows set into the wall covered in more of the ornate, colored glass that the Athonites seemed so fond of. A large stone table took up the vast majority of the room with small, carved benches pushed underneath the lip of the table, and one very ornate, wooden chair at the far end.
    Three guesses as to who that is for , Seri thought wryly and gave her hand an experimental tug. To her surprised relief, the prince released it, and she flung herself away from him and through the advisers.
    “What is this all about?” The words tumbled forth from her mouth before she had the good sense to think them through. “Why are you taking me away?” The white aura still surrounded her, still made it difficult to see. She wanted to shut her eyes for hours, grind her fists into them like a small child.
    Anything to try to abate the gnawing horror in her stomach before it turned into reality.
    As she watched, the prince took out an elegant handkerchief and began to wipe his hand down, a distasteful expression on his face. Offended that he would have to wipe her touch away, Seri’s lip curled with disgust. Typical Athonite.
    He tossed the handkerchief down on the table and moved toward the ornate wooden chair—his chair. The cold irritation returned to his voice. “Next time we are in public together, please take it upon yourself to not coat your skin in gold dust.” He glanced over at her, as if seeing her appearance—sweaty, too-thin garment, smeared dust all over her nearly bare skin—for the first time. “And for that matter, please clothe yourself more appropriately.”
    Seri’s mouth worked in a wordless protest. She didn’t know whether to scream at him in outrage… or rush up to him and wipe more of the gold dust all over his precious clothing. “You think I chose to wear this?”
    “Did you not?” His voice was icy. “I find it difficult to believe that someone held you down and forced you to put on such elaborate clothing. You must have had some complicitness.”
    Mutiny must have been obvious on her face; one of the green-robed advisers came to her side and offered her a thick black cloak. “This is… unexpected,” he said when silence filled the air.
    The prince laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. “I do not believe that this begins to qualify as ‘unexpected.’”
    It was almost as if they’d forgotten she was in the room, the way they talked around her. A purely Athoni trait, she’d learned from her short stint in the castle. Seri tugged the cloak around her body, hiding it from view and blowing one of the ridiculous feathers off her forehead.
    Silence fell again, and all eyes were on the prince, including her own. His look was inscrutable; he had a way of schooling the expression on his face into a polite, cold mien, and the mask had fallen into place once again, something that irritated her to no end. They didn’t know what to do with her; that much was plainly obvious.
    Stoking up her courage, Seri stood, clutching the cape tight around her body. “May I go?”
    All eyes swung from the prince’s impassive face to her own scowling one. “Go?” One of the advisers stammered, “You cannot go.”
    “Why can’t I? I’ve no wish to stay, and it’s obvious you don’t want me here.”
    The prince’s cool gray eyes met her own, pinning her under their hard gaze. She wondered briefly what he would look like if he showed emotion—any emotion—other than royal distaste. “You cannot leave. We have much to be done.”
    “I? I have much to do?” She returned his mocking laugh with one of her own. “I am a servant purchased for the week for a few coins. I owe you nothing.” The thought of those three lovely dru that had slipped between her fingers without any say on her part rankled. “I want my coins,” she added stubbornly, thinking of her