Chapter 15

Darci sat perched on the end of the four-poster bed, waiting. The velvet drapes were pulled back and through the windowpane, she could see the last faint glow of the sun on the horizon as dusk fell.

After dinner the previous night, she had been moved from her squalid, dark cell to this elegant room. She had been herded inside and the door had closed firmly behind her, followed by the click of a lock.

She had wandered slowly round the room, taking stock of her new surroundings. Every drawer had been empty, every cupboard bare, but a door in the corner of the room had led to a huge tiled bathroom, equipped with towels and mismatched toiletries that had been collected from various hotels, judging by their labels.

Darci had been exhausted, however, the lure of a hot bath had won out. To her joy, the taps spewed warm water when she turned them, and she had left the claw foot tub to fill as she returned to the bedroom to undress.

She had stripped out of her soiled clothes and dropped them onto the floor by the bed, thinking she would wash them in the bath later and leave them to dry while she slept. Stepping into the steaming water had felt like heaven, and she had sunk back, closing her eyes and resting her neck on the rim as she wallowed, enjoying the prickling sensation of the scorching water against her skin.

She must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes, she found that the water had grown cold and the skin around her fingers had wrinkled, feeling puffy to the touch.

She had dragged herself up and stepped out onto the mat, grabbing a towel from the rail and wrapping it around herself. She had pulled the plug out, drying herself to the sounds of the water gurgling and sloshing away.

After hanging the towel up, she had wandered back into the bedroom to retrieve her clothes. To her dismay, they had not been where she had left them on the floor. Someone had been into the room while she was bathing and taken them. She knew this without a shadow of a doubt, because in the place of her clothing, a dress had been left upon the bed.

The long medieval gown was a startling sea green, the colour highlighted against the crimson of the bed covers. Velvet was set against a taffeta embroidered with a silver and green leaf pattern and featured lacing front and back.

The dress was beautiful, but she hadn't wanted to touch it, hadn't wanted to give Draken the pleasure of her acquiescence. She had looked all around the room, hoping her old clothes had simply been moved. But there had been no sign of them.

Resigned, she had approached the bed and looked again at the gown. She had realised she had no choice but to wear it. She had pulled on the linen shift first and then lifted the heavy velvet. It had taken a few minutes of struggling and swearing until she had eventually squeezed herself into the dress.

The sleeves were long and heavy, weighing her arms down, but the dress did fit perfectly. She had managed to tease most of the knots out of her hair by running her fingers through the still damp strands, easing them apart as she had walked towards the window.

Outside the sun had already been high in the sky, and she had pulled the thick drapes across, blocking out most of the light, before settling down onto the bed. She had known she would have to join that devil for dinner again after night-fall, so she had wanted to try to get at least a few hours sleep before then.

Later, she had woken to find the sun already low on the horizon, and she had flung open the blinds and watched the changing colours as it set. Now night-time blues filled the sky, and she sat waiting, her long sleeves spread out across the bed to take the weight off her arms, her bare feet showing beneath the hem.

Finally, she heard the leaden click as the key turned in the lock and the door opened.