“I’m not doing it.”
“Do you want to find Donnacha?”
Of course, she did. She wanted to understand why he made her feel like a person and not like something broken. She wanted to understand why he made her feel the way she did. Why he made her feel whole when she’d spent so many years certain there were cracks running down her entire being that everyone could see.
Finally, she punched the arm of the chair and stood. “Yes, fine. But you’re leading the way, and if they want a deal, you’re taking the fall for it.”
15
Long nails clicked on the bars to his cell, as they had every morning for the past week. Donnacha knew it had been exactly seven days because he’d scratched a mark on the wall every day he was in this hellish place. Seven marks under the smallest window he’d ever seen.
The cot they’d given him was little more than two boards with fabric stretched between them. It was uncomfortable, though that was likely the point. The Troll Queen wouldn’t want him to think this was a good place for him to be. She wanted to punish him for playing his little games.
Still, at least he’d won something over her.
“Huuuusbaaaand!” The word was long and drawn out, sung off tune as the Troll princess made her way toward him.
She’d taken to calling him the name ever since he’d told her about weddings. She’d told him she quite liked the idea of binding him to her for all eternity.
He didn’t want to even think about such a fate. He had to cling to the hope that Elva would come for him. Hadn’t he asked her to? Hadn’t he begged in those last moments when her taste still lingered on his tongue?
Donnacha couldn’t imagine she’d just let him go. Of all the women he’d ever known, she was the kind of person to value action. She would want to race after him. To find him.
Right?
The clanging sound echoed so strongly in his cell that he had to turn his head. Looking through the bars at the creature beyond made his stomach roll. Her tusks were even more pronounced today, if that was possible. The straggly hair on her head, really only three clumps, were tied back with a bright pink bow. The frilly dress covering her body flounced with every movement.
He reminded himself that being this shallow served no one well. He didn’t need to be attracted to her. Even if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he couldn’t forget her ripping off those poor birds heads. He couldn’t forget the mistreatment of her people and the spoiled personality that poisoned her veins. She was a creature whose inner ugliness had poured out into her skin. That was all.
Still, his lip curled up at the sight of her. “What do you want?”
She pouted. “You’re supposed to be happy to see me.”
“And why would I be happy to see you?”
“Because Mummy said…” She stamped her foot on the ground, obviously frustrated. “You’re supposed to do what I say! You’re mine.”
“A person can’t be someone’s plaything, princess.”
“They can if I make them!” The troll princess smacked her fist against the bars. “If they don’t, I’ll pound them into the ground until they behave.”
“If you pound them into the ground, then they’ll be dead.” It was like explaining cause and effect to a child. She was older than him! She should know all of this already.
But she didn’t. Donnacha reminded himself to be patient. Spoiled rotten and someone whose mother had made her the way she was. He had to be gentler. More understanding.
Even though he didn’t want to be.
Donnacha rolled and planted his feet on the ground, rubbing his hands over his face. “What is it you want, princess?”
“We’re going to go out today! Isn’t it wonderful? Mummy said she wanted everyone in the kingdom to see your failure. It will make us both laugh.”
Because the other trolls would attack him? No, they wouldn’t risk him to something so foolish as that. Perhaps the Troll Queen had something else up her sleeve, but that didn’t matter. He could survive this just as he had the other curse.
He pushed himself to standing and sighed, holding his arms up. “Fine then. When are we going?”
She twirled a finger in the thin threads of her ponytail. “Right now.”
“Are you going to dress me in something other than this?” Donnacha had been in the dungeons for an entire week now with nothing more than meager water and bread. He smelled to the high heavens. It was even starting to bother him now, which is when he knew it was getting bad. His beard was a mess, his hair a tangled rat’s nest, and his shirt was sticking to his chest from the layers of sweat. He desperately wanted a bath. He needed to feel clean so he could feel like a person again.
The troll princess shook her head. “No, Mum doesn’t want you to have a bath. She said let him go as he is.” She looked him up and down with hungry eyes. “I agree.”
Donnacha scrambled for the right words. “Everyone will think you’re marrying a disgusting beast. Is that what you want?”
The troll princess pressed her tiny breasts against the bars. “Are you a beast, dwarf? That’s what I like to hear. You’ll need to be animalistic to survive when I’m done with you.”
Gods, he was going to vomit. He looked for the waste bucket and realized they’d already taken it for the next hour. What was he going to do? Puke straight down her front and ruin all the good he’d done?
He had to continue this plan. The princess had to be in his back pocket, or everything would fall apart at the seams. She was the one pulling her mother’s strings, which meant if he could pull her strings, then his life might not be that
