Ascension: The Affiliate Part 6

She linked arms with Prince Kael, and he escorted her back to the dance floor.

Prince Kael moved to the beat of the music and pulled her along for the ride. He would dance with her once or sometimes twice in a row, and then he'd hand her off to another gentleman. When they had completed their circuit, the man would promptly return her to Prince Kael's arms. Some dances, they would speak of nothing, content to let the music carry them through. Other dances, they would chatter about such a variety of subjects that Cyrene began to wonder if she would be tested later.

At the close of another dance, Cyrene plopped down into a nearby chair and fanned herself with her hand, dizzy from the energy of the night. The exhaustion of the day was settling in. After hours upon hours of dancing, her poor feet were sore. It was so late now that the room had all but emptied of people.

Arriving at her side, ever merry, Prince Kael offered his hand to her once more. "You look drained. I would hate to keep you from your beauty sleep. Please allow me to escort you back to your room"

Cyrene stood with his a.s.sistance. "I'm not even certain where they are."

"Then, you are lucky you have me here to guide you."

Prince Kael directed her out the double doors. Cyrene didn't even care how it might look to the remaining attendees. She only wanted to find her new living quarters and sink into her bed.

"How do you know where my room is?" Even in her state, she found that odd.

"There's a directory," he said nonchalantly. "We'll cross by it before we reach the Vines."

"Oh." Why did no one tell me about the directory?

Prince Kael stopped at a corner where one of the biggest books Cyrene had ever seen sat on a podium. He easily opened it and found her name within the contents.

"This way." He led her down a hallway took a few turns and then ended up in front of an archway with climbing vines that mirrored Cyrene's Affiliate pin. They had found the Queen's chambers, the Vines.

She marveled at the entrance for a minute and then followed Prince Kael through the corridors. After a few more twists, he stopped in front of a door where her name was written in a swirling green script.

Affiliate Strohm "Thank you very much. I would never have found it without you."

"It is my pleasure." He held the door open for her as she entered.

"I can't see anything."

Prince Kael let the door close behind him. He struck a match and lit a lantern sitting on a wooden table. The dim glow cast light across the s.p.a.ce, revealing a lovely sitting room complete with a brocaded silk sofa and soft-pink-and-cream armchairs. Tapestries in complementary colors lined the walls, and a beautiful braided rug took up a large part of the floor.

Prince Kael leaned one hand against the table, watching her.

"It's beautiful." Her quarters were incredible.

She couldn't wait to see what the bedchamber looked like!

She turned to face Prince Kael, heat rising to her cheeks. Those intense blue-gray eyes looked back at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

He prowled toward her. "You're blushing, Affiliate."

Cyrene swallowed but didn't respond. The same current, an inexplicable connection, zapped between them just as it had earlier.

Then, without warning, Prince Kael's lips were on hers. His strong arms circled her waist, and he pressed his chest tight against hers. She could feel every solid inch of his abdomen as his fingers dug into the silken material of her dress.

He pushed her backward against the wall, wedging her body between him and the hard surface. Her heart seized with panic when she realized there was no escape. She was at his mercy, and he used this to his advantage to snake one hand up into her hair.

He tried to coax life out of her as his other hand moved further and further down her waist, grabbing at her through the thin material. At this moment, the utter shock of the moment wore off, and Cyrene wrenched her head away from him, gasping in horror.

"What are you doing?" She shoved roughly against his chest.

He only grabbed her hair harder and pulled her lips back to his own. She muttered a few choice insults, which he swallowed through his kisses. Ignoring her protests, he kissed down her neck, across to her ear, and over her exposed collarbone. She breathed in quickly, both at the feeling of his mouth on her and the astonishment of being in such a position.

He had no right to kiss me in such a manner without my permission!

His knee moved up between her legs and drove them apart. Cyrene redoubled her efforts, not caring that her hair was ripping from the roots.

"Kael!" she screamed. "What are you doing? Get your hands off of me!" The shriek gave her an inch of leeway, and she stumbled sideways, away from him.

Breathing heavily, Kael narrowed his eyes.

Her entire body trembled. She swallowed hard to try to hide her terror as best as she could. "How dare you touch me!"

"How dare I-" He broke off with a snarl. "After I danced with you all night and escorted you back to your room, you turn me aside?"

Cyrene's eyes were storm clouds, her jaw set in stone. "Turn you aside? You say that as if you were a suitor." She couldn't believe he could be so cavalier after he had forced himself upon her. "You certainly know nothing of being a suitor."

Kael's eyes lost the pale blue color that accentuated his features and turned a formidable slate gray. "I know nothing of being a suitor? I have roamed these castle walls my entire life. I have seen more courtiers come and go than you could imagine in your lifetime."

"Then, you should leave the walls more often!" The fury of the incident still scorched through her veins. "You seemed to have lost your sense of reality if you believe that escorting me back to my bedchamber would suffice."

Anger flared up in Kael's face, but Cyrene did not regret her words. She might be making a grave mistake by angering the Prince, but she d.a.m.n well was not going to be treated like a common wh.o.r.e. She didn't care who the man was. This was not acceptable behavior!

"For all the education they give you women, I would think they would have taught you something of society, outside of your parents' four walls," he sneered.

"And for all your education, you seemed to have forgotten the appropriate behavior between a man and a woman."

His mocking laugh unnerved her. "You're a beautiful woman, Cyrene," he said, the seductive tone of his voice returning. "I won't be the only man vying for your good graces. You'll learn soon enough that I've treated you with much honor by being here tonight."

He stepped forward again and stroked his hand across her cheek.

"Have I made myself unclear?" She slapped his hand away from her. "Have I shown you one morsel of interest since you made your intentions clear? I think not."

"It is hardly your words that have enticed me onward. It is the soft blush against your skin-from your cheeks to your ears and down to your b.r.e.a.s.t.s," he softly murmured the last word as he glanced down at her supple curves peeking over the top of her dress. "The increasing heaviness of your breathing as we speak, and-might I?" He drew his fingers to her neck, and she pulled away from his touch as if he were a viper ready to strike. "The rapidity of your heartbeat as we stand so near together."

"Leave now, Prince Kael." She added the formality to place a barrier between them.

Kael was handsome and did tempt her, but the manner in which he had approached her and the cutting edge of his voice at her refusal forced her hand. His presence in her room was nothing less than humiliating to her, her family, and their good name.

"Cyrene-"

"Affiliate Cyrene," she reminded him.

He ground his teeth at the correction.

"Do not expect to receive an invitation again," she said. "I now know what an invitation entails. Thank you kindly for instructing me in my first lesson in society." Her narrowed eyes told him if he made one further move, she would not be as considerate for his position as she had been thus far.

"I hope you are so kind to your other suitors," Prince Kael purred. "May your nights be as warm as the one before you."

He bowed with excessive flourish, and with that, he thundered out of her living area. The door crashed shut behind him.

Cyrene's heart fluttered wildly, but it was not from fear. It was pure anger. If he weren't the rightful Prince of Byern, she would have gone straight to the nearest member of the Royal Guard and had him arrested for indecency.

She collapsed on her new sofa, pulled up her feet to hug her knees to her chest, and let a lone tear fall down her cheek. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, she wished Rhea were here with her.

Hands fell heavy on Cyrene's shoulders, ripping her out of her sleep. Her eyes opened wide with terror. A forceful scream escaped out of her lungs. Adrenaline coursed through her body, and she pelted out another ear-shattering shriek.

A hand clamped down over her mouth, smothering her shouts. Cyrene struggled against her a.s.sailant in the pitch-black room. Another pair of hands pushed her out of her bed, but Cyrene clawed at the hands and kicked out. Her foot connected with something hard, and a person cried out. The hand covering her mouth wavered, and Cyrene took the liberty to bite down hard.

Her captor yelped and withdrew the hand from her mouth. Cyrene hopped out of bed and made a break for the door. Before she could even make it out of her bedchamber, hands latched on to her on both sides. Another scream was cut off mid-cry as a hand slapped her across the face, hard enough to turn her head.

Cyrene gasped in shock as her vision blurred. She had never, ever been hit before, and she was glad for that because the whole side of her face stung like nothing she had ever experienced.

"Move along," someone said gruffly, pushing her through the door.

Cyrene jostled out of her room. Her feet were bare, and she was wearing nothing but her thin white shift. Her hands fisted in the material. She hated that anyone could see her so exposed.

She was pressed forward into the hallway of the Vines, and she received her first view of the captors. They wore oversized masks shaped like grotesque animals and mythological creatures. It was as if she were at a disturbing re-creation of a masked ball. She hadn't been to one since she was a girl, but even then, people had worn beautifully constructed masks to shape their faces with glitter, feathers, and painted designs. The captors' masks were nothing of the sort.

A giant spotted hyena's face appeared next to her. The wearer shoved her down the hallway, and she collided into another person, who turned around and s.n.a.t.c.hed up her hands. Staring back at her was an otherworldly snarling Indres with a fake like a wolf with large fangs protruding over out of its mouth.

"Watch where you're going!" the Indres screeched.

"What are you doing to me?" Cyrene demanded, hysteria taking over.

"You will speak when spoken to," another voice growled. It belonged to a Leif-masked figure, standing nearly the same height as Cyrene. Strawberry-blonde locks fell out of one side of the mask that was all glittering smooth skin with high-pointed ears. The Leif was a deceptively beautiful creature p.r.o.ne to stealing children in the middle of the night.

"No! You will answer me immediately! I am a Queen's Affiliate," she said, brandishing the t.i.tle like a weapon. "You will stop this at once."

Laughter filled the corridor.

"Be quiet, little girl."

Something sharp jabbed her in the back. Her feet stilled as the knife punctured her skin. She sucked in a harsh breath at the pain shooting through her body.

"Keep your feet moving, or I'll use this on your throat." The hyena cackled in her ear.

Terrified, Cyrene clamped her mouth shut and followed the strange masked troupe. The torches along the hallway had been extinguished, and Cyrene couldn't make out the route they were taking through the Vines.

Suddenly, the Leif came to an abrupt halt, and Cyrene barely kept from running headlong into the person. The Leif pressed against a nearly invisible door in the pitch-black hallway, and it creaked open. Cyrene bit her lip, trying to rein in the fear threatening to burst out of her.

Her captors shoved her through the pitch black entranceway. Cyrene helplessly stumbled forward and went down a few stairs. At the last second, she latched on to a railing and saved her body from smashing on the hard stone steps.

The group huddled together and descended the steep flight of damp stairs. They seemed to drop farther and farther beneath the castle, spiraling endlessly, and she became dizzy from the descent.

An eerie glow appeared around the next bend. Cyrene's legs shook with the effort, and she was thankful to finally leave the stairs behind even if it meant they were that much closer to wherever her kidnappers were taking her.

Once they reached the bottom step, someone nudged her to keep moving. Through her terror, she put one foot in front of the other. They traveled through a maze of corridors before entering a room.

Upon closer examination, Cyrene realized it was actually a monstrous cave with ruby-red stalact.i.tes dripping dangerously from the ceiling and crystallized stalagmites precipitously shooting up from the floor. From her location on a raised stone platform, a flat black lake stretched out before her across the cave. As Cyrene's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed several large boats docked at a distance, and a few smaller skiffs were tied near her. The lake must empty out of the castle on the Keylani River, which ran along the city's perimeter.

She turned away from the lake to the matter at hand and steeled herself for whatever was about to come.

Two rows of fiercely masked faces in high-backed black chairs sat before her. They were absolutely still, staring at her and quietly waiting.

But for what?

Suddenly, ice-cold water cascaded down on her head. The water drenched her hair, matting it to her face, and soaked through her thin shift. As the frigid water hit her skin, Cyrene cried out in shock. She brushed her hands over her eyes to dispel the water. Almost at once, another a.s.sault crashed onto her, soaking her to the bone. She had just enough time to close her eyes and mouth before more water rained down.

"What in the name of the Creator is going on?" she screamed through her chattering teeth.

Someone jabbed her in the ribs with a knife blade, and Cyrene flinched from the touch.

"You will speak when spoken to," the person said, repeating the Leif's mantra.

"How dare you!" She held her arms around her body to try to retain a semblance of modesty.

A fourth torrent of water poured on top of her head, and she doubled over in an effort to block herself from the frigid water. Her whole body trembled, and her fingers and toes curled in on themselves. Her white shift did nothing to cover her body, but the cold was so all-encompa.s.sing that she almost didn't care.

Cyrene waited for more water to fall, and when it didn't immediately come, she took a moment to brush her hair back. She stood as regally as she could muster. Staring her captors down, she defiantly tilted up her chin. She didn't know who these people were or what was going on, but she would not be broken.

"Do what you will."

"Little girl, you will learn your manners," a person said from behind her.

A gloved hand shot up in the air, staving off the next surge of water.

"That will quite do." The man was wearing a terrifying depiction of a Dragon, the fearsome warriors in the Age of the Doma. "Do you think yourself worthy to wear the climbing-vine pin of an Affiliate?"

There. She had been spoken to.

"Of course!"

"Then, you must prove it," a squat, short individual with a rather fitting dwarf mask said.

"I do not have to prove my worth to anyone. I am an Affiliate. I was selected into receivership to Queen Kaliana. There is no going back."

"There is if you're dead," a peac.o.c.k-masked individual trilled.

Cyrene blanched. Were they here to kill her? Had they dragged her to this place to send her remains down the Keylani River?

"Enough," the Dragon rumbled.

Cyrene shivered. She had always feared the tales and fables that included the fire-breathing creature that could level a town with a swish of its tail.

After a short pause, a dreadfully emaciated individual wearing a terrifying Braj mask spoke up.