more time, though it was obvious her sister wasn’t there.
By now, several guests had poked their heads out of their doors. Their expressions ranged from curious to frightened to irritated, but no one breathed a word as the guards closed in on Tella.
The female guard stepped forward first, slow and careful, as if Tella were a stray cat who might scratch or run away. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“But we will if you run.”
Tella’s head snapped to the male guard.
And then she felt the hard press of metal as the female darted forward and quickly linked chain cuffs around Tella’s wrists.
“What are you doing?” Tella shouted.
“We’re placing you under arrest, by order of His Highness, Prince Dante.”
15
Donatella
Tella rattled the dungeon bars, feeling like the Fated Lady Prisoner who’d been put in a cage for no good reason. “Your Highness!”
Magic strangled her every time she attempted calling out for Legend, but she was not in the mood to yell for someone who didn’t really exist and cry out the name Dante, or even worse, “Prince Dante.” But there was something pleasantly mocking about “Your Highness.”
She couldn’t believe he’d had her arrested. Was it because he knew that she’d followed him the day before? She didn’t think he’d seen her, but that still didn’t give him the right to imprison her.
Now she definitely didn’t need to feel guilty about kissing Jacks.
Tella shook the bars again. The stone gargoyles impaled by the tops of them peered down on her with bulging eyes. She didn’t know how long she’d been locked up here all alone. As she’d been dragged inside, she’d looked around at the other cells, wondering if Legend had brought his witch down here as well. But all Tella saw were the tally marks etched into the walls. There were names carved into the dry stones as well, but she didn’t plan on staying long enough to make hers one of them.
“You have no right to keep me locked up!” Tella cried out.
A heavy door groaned open at the end of the torch-lit hall, followed by the confident beat of boots, which she knew too well. Legend wasn’t crowned yet, but he already moved like an emperor stepping into a throne room.
Tella’s eyes trailed upward from his tall black boots to the fitted black trousers hugging his muscular legs. His shirt was also black, but it was accented with a vest covered in thin wolf-gray lines that matched the cravat at his throat and the lapels of his velvet coat. The coat was the rich royal color of blackberries—a shade she’d never seen him in. But he wore the color well; it complemented his bronze skin tone, and made his hair look even blacker and his eyes look even brighter, bringing out flecks of gold that reminded her of stars at night.
No wonder they’d already started creating statues of him around the city. He might have been a liar and a villain, but he made both things look very good.
The other cells were empty, but he didn’t even glance at them, and Tella had the impression that Legend wouldn’t have darted his eyes around even if the cells had been full of deadly criminals. He moved like nothing in the human world could hurt him. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder. According to the witch, he only had one weakness, and Tella doubted it was in this dungeon.
She couldn’t believe she’d chased him into another world because she’d thought he was in danger. Even though he could have been telling the truth about losing some of his powers, she should have known that he’d do whatever it took to get them back.
“Let me out of here, you bastard!”
“I think I preferred Your Highness.” He continued his elegant walk toward her, moving with unrushed strides down the dim hall. Someone else might have thought he didn’t have any particularly strong feelings about their current situation. But Tella had spent the last two months sharing dreams with him. She was aware of his movements—aware of him. She noticed the tic in his jaw as he slowly raked her over, eyes traveling from her bare feet to her naked calves. His gaze tightened as he reached her skirt with all its ripped-up feathers. But instead of making a mocking comment, Tella saw lines form across his brow, as if he was trying to puzzle something out.
Was it possible he didn’t know that she’d followed him to see the witch? And if that