Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,58
manners. He holds some ill will toward you for killing his daughter.”
“She tried to kill me first,” I retorted. “And I didn’t kill her, though I wish I had. Damian did that.”
King Armando’s eyes widened slightly, revealing a bit of emotion in his surprise. “Well, then perhaps I’m glad you got rid of her. Her power went to her head if she had the audacity to disobey my direct orders.”
The duke’s lips tightened into a thin white line, but when King Armando added, “Wouldn’t you agree?” and looked over at the other man once more, Vera’s father nodded immediately, his expression wiped free of the fury that had so clearly burned only a moment before.
There was a knock at the door, four quick raps breaking through the sudden tension, and the king made a welcoming motion with his hand. “Ah, that would be the food now.”
A servant I hadn’t noticed until then hurried to open the door, and then more servants came in, carrying trays that held multiple plates of food. The trays were set down on the table in front of King Armando. Too far away for me to eat, but certainly close enough for the enticing smell to fill the room and make my stomach grumble, despite my disgust at the topic he’d been discussing prior to the food’s arrival.
“Very good. You may go,” the king pronounced, and the servants rushed out of the room. Once the door was shut, Armando gestured to the table where the feast was laid out. “Hungry, Alexa?”
I stayed completely motionless and silent.
“Of course you are. But I have to warn you, I’m not actually going to let you eat yet. Not until you agree to something for me.”
King Armando lifted a fork and took a bite of the food in front of him. It looked like some sort of dish made with vegetables and chicken in an unfamiliar, heavy sauce. The smell of the exotic spices they used in Dansii wafted toward me. My stomach clenched.
“So.” He finished chewing. “If you’d like to eat, here is what I need from you. I need you to agree to let us take a sample of your blood. Willingly. It won’t be much. Not yet. Just a small amount. If you promise to let me do that, I will let you eat this dinner.”
“And if not?”
His eyes narrowed. “Then I will have you taken back to your room, and I will find a better way to convince you.”
I didn’t miss the threat in his voice. “I don’t want your food,” I made myself say, even though my stomach rumbled again, belying my words. Before the anger on his face could coalesce into action, I hurried on. “But I will do as you ask if …”
He slowly set his fork down, his eyes never leaving my face. “If what?” He took my bait, his voice cold.
“If you will command one of your men to take me to the dungeons so that I might see for myself that my friends are healed and unharmed. If you will make sure they are in perfect health, and let me verify it myself, then I will give my blood to you. Willingly.”
King Armando leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “You wish for your friends to be in perfect health,” he finally repeated. “And you wish to see them.”
I nodded.
“Sire, I do not think —”
He lifted one hand, silencing Rafe’s protest.
“You may keep me in shackles. And have my friends here accompany us as well, of course.” I gestured to the robed men on either side of me. I’d begun to suspect that Armando had all his highest guards wear the robes, concealing their faces and hands, so that I never knew if I was being guarded by a black sorcerer or not — and neither did anyone else who came to the palace. It wasn’t possible that he had this many sorcerers — let alone black sorcerers. But what better way to keep your people and prisoners guessing than to have them all dress alike, so that they couldn’t ever be sure?
After a long, strained moment of silence, King Armando sat up tall in his chair again. “I will think about it and give you my answer in the morning.” He waved his hand toward us, his eyes already dropping to his food. “Take her away.”
The sorcerers on either side of me grabbed my arms and yanked me to my feet, then Rafe pulled on my chain,