Sea of Starlight (The Riven Kingdoms #2) - Shari L. Tapscott

1

Edwin insisted we mustn’t keep the prince in the dungeon, but this hall of the castle is so dark, it might as well be a cell.

No torches burn here. The only light comes from diffused sunshine that filters in through the glassed-over arrow slits in the hallway. Dust motes dance in the slices of light as they cut across the stone floor, making my nose itch.

As I walk, my footsteps echo in the empty stone walkway. It’s the only sound besides the chipped teacup rattling against its saucer atop the tray I carry.

“Your Highness,” a guard says, bowing his head. He and his comrade stand watch outside a chamber door. Both men are hard, aged far beyond their years.

“The prisoner has the sickness,” Devin says, as if I didn’t already know. “We have strict orders not to admit entry to anyone.”

“I’m not anyone,” I point out. “And I’ve already had the sickness—that’s why I’m here.”

The young man dips his head. “I’m sorry, princess. Even for you, I cannot open the door.”

I shift the tray, resting it on my hip, and let out an impatient breath. “That’s fine. I’ll open it myself.”

“Please, Cassia…” Devin says, dropping the unnecessary formalities. “You can’t…”

But I already have. I slip into the room, closing the door behind me.

The chamber is even darker than the hall. The drapes are closed, and candles are too precious to waste on a prisoner. Though I can only just make out the man’s prone form on the bed, his labored breaths are loud enough to wake the dead—assuring me he’s still alive.

I stand by the door, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Once I can see the shadowed furniture in the room, I make my way to the bed. I’m wary of the man and prepared to fight him should he lash out.

He lies with his back to me, atop the ancient covers.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice ragged. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” I say the words lightly to mask my nerves. “Do you wish to discuss my hopes and dreams, prince?”

The man is likely deep in the sickness at this point. With the hallucinations haunting him, I would be wise to watch my step…but holding my tongue has never been one of my talents.

Slowly, he turns to look at me—though it appears it takes a great deal of energy to accomplish the simple task.

“Who are you?” he repeats.

I set the tray on the table next to the bed. “I’ve brought you food. There’s nothing more you need to know.”

My nose itches, and I hold back a sneeze. The room is dustier than the hallway. Apparently, no one bothered to clean it before they tossed the Renovian prince in here.

The prisoner turns away. “It’s been days since you pulled me from the dungeon and threw me in here. I thought you were determined to let me starve.”

“No one else could enter,” I explain halfheartedly. “But I cannot catch the sickness a second time…so here I am.”

Someone else who’s had the dark illness could have been commanded to bring the prince’s rations, but only my family and a few select guards know that we’ve abducted him. It’s safer that way—for Braeton.

The people of Draegan hold no love for Renove, especially now that they know how the adjacent kingdom thrived after the creation of the Chasm.

I came at the request of my brother. Father doesn’t know I’m here, and he won’t be pleased if he finds out.

“I haven’t seen you before,” the prince says, determined to continue the conversation.

“I don’t usually tend prisoners.”

“You could kill me and expedite the process.”

The words are intriguingly void of emotion. The statement is nothing more than a cold observation—almost as if he’s criticizing us for wasting precious resources to keep him alive.

“You will be used as a bargaining tool should we need one.” I pour tea into the cup, wincing as I slosh a little over the edge. “It’s in His Majesty’s best interests to keep you alive. At least for now.”

The man snorts. “Spoken like a loyal subject.”

Loyal subject…or daughter. But the Renovian prince doesn’t need to know who I really am, especially when it was my family who abducted him.

Refusing to continue with the conversation, I say, “I’ve been told you have shown signs of the sickness for two days. Right now, you likely have a fever. Soon, if you haven’t already, you’ll begin hallucinating. Though there is nothing you can do to prevent it, general wisdom says if you’re aware