“He has told you at last, then?” was Wyvar’s weak reply.
Vynasha sank onto the fur rug before her hearth and rested her hand on the carved mantle. “He asked me to marry him before, but I thought he was asking because I had a choice. Now I know there is no hope.” She heard the servant sit down beside her but was too angry to look at him again. She did not want to feel guilty for snapping at him. She wanted to blame someone else for her mistakes. Because Ceddrych could have told her that this Prince’s intentions were obvious from the start.
Bitterly, she whispered, “I have made myself a sacrifice, a slave to his whim. Perhaps he gave me that book to remind me that history shall once more repeat itself.”
Wyvar hissed, “Soraya had a choice. She was a fayere princess in her land. She agreed to marry the king because she thought he loved her.”
“And did he?” she threw back.
“NO,” Wyvar firmly said. “What he loved was her power and that she would give him control over the window between our land and hers. He wanted to possess and control her.”
“Like the Prince wants to control me?” Vynasha turned to him with her tear streaked cheeks and the firelight garish over her beautifully scarred skin.
Wyvar flinched. “Master is not so terrible as you imagine. He has all of our interests at heart.”
“But he wants to possess me too, doesn’t he?” Vynasha asked, already knowing the answer. She gave a hollow laugh and said, “I have no choice but to submit, unless I can find a way out of here.”
Wyvar pulled away from her when she reached to clasp his arm. He was less solid than he should have been, but she managed to get a grip on his coat sleeve. He looked at her, incredulous. “Vynasha, there is nothing any of us can do to help you!” But he hesitated, keeping the full truth behind his sallow gaze.
“I want you to take me to the dungeons,” she said.Wyvar choked on his words, “My lady?”
“The Prince has promised to let me go outside tomorrow. After he shows me the way out, I’m going to come back. But I’ll need the sack I brought with me. It has my brother’s letters inside and a few other things I am unwilling to go without. But I cannot fight the Prince’s rule over me without help. If you refuse to aid me in my escape, at least take me to see him.”
Wyvar’s eyes widened and he gasped, “You cannot know what you ask of me.”
“I know that if I don’t get out of here, I’m either going to fade like those other prisoners, or I’m going to become the Prince’s slave. The dungeon master promised he would help me. Let us go so I can collect his promise.”
Jennifer Silverwood 