Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

Chapter 45

AUREN

Midas’s sudden presence puts a pin in my panicked confusion.

He’s dressed impeccably from head to toe, the stiff fabric ensuring not a single wrinkle exists, buttons shaped like golden bells going from pelvis to throat. He’s wearing his favorite six-spired crown upon his honeyed hair, the ends pointed like the tip of a claw.

Behind him, lingering in the doorway, stands Rissa, her blue eyes rapidly taking in the scene before landing on me.

Rissa...

There was something I needed to tell Rissa.

My thoughts contort and bend. I try to remember. I try and try...

Midas glares down at Polly, who’s frozen on the floor, and his jaw tightens. “What are you doing?”

Polly goes pale, her gauzy dress bunched up around her thighs as she freezes with bits of crushed petal in her hand. “My king...”

“I gave you one job,” he growls. “You were to bring her up here and watch her. The dew was to be given to her after the demonstration. Not before.”

“I...I’m sorry, my king. The favored was growing anxious, so I thought—”

“You are not employed to think,” he interrupts. “I’ll deal with your punishment later. Gather yourself and leave now.”

Polly’s blue eyes shine with tears, but mine widen.

Leave now.

My gaze flies over to Rissa. Leave. We had a plan to leave.

Thoughts and memories tumble like a weed blown in an errant wind. Bits and pieces break off, letting me gather up the scraggly branches. Every sharp-husked branch I grab onto stabs against my aching consciousness.

I’m at the ball, the dew that’s in Polly’s hand is coursing through me, and I was going to leave with Rissa. That’s why she’s looking at me like that.

The cloud of confusion tries to settle over me, but I wave it away, focusing, trying to gather broken branches and blowing dandelion seeds.

I was supposed to leave with Rissa. We had a deal. She wanted to get away on the night of the ball. But something is really wrong, I know that much. She needs to escape without me. Now might be her only chance.

Polly clutches Midas’s pant leg as she starts to beg and cry and apologize. It’s the distraction I need.

Leave, I mouth to Rissa. Go.

Her eyebrows jump up in surprise, and for the first time, something hesitant crawls over her beautiful face. As if she’s unsure. As if she doesn’t want to leave me behind.

It makes my heart squeeze in my chest, but I know I’m in no state to escape with her. Rissa is a survivor, though. If anyone can make it out of here, it’s her.

Midas knocks Polly away with a jab of his foot, which just makes her cry even harder. He shoots a look over his shoulder at Rissa. “Take her and get out of here. I don’t want to see her again. And make sure she doesn’t have any more dew.”

Polly wails, nearly loud enough to be heard over the music, but another memory sticks to my outstretched grasp. Take her and get out of here, Midas said, and I nod at Rissa in agreement. Take her, and get yourselves out.

Rissa hurries to pull an inconsolable Polly to her feet, while Midas walks over to the small table along the wall and pours himself a drink, expression rife with irritation.

I slump against the wall, feeling like there are thousands of torn bits of paper all jumbled up in my head, words slowly falling down into place.

Rissa maneuvers Polly, making it seem like they stumble, causing them to draw nearer. “Come with me,” she murmurs, and even though it seems like she’s talking to Polly, I know she’s saying it to me.

Tears fill my eyes. We were reluctant allies at best, and yet here she is, trying to get me to go with her, and I have a feeling it’s not just about the gold.