The door swung open, and she stepped into the room like she owned every square inch of the floorboards.
It was the she-wolf from the dining hall the one who had been sitting right at the King’s side, sipping wine and smirking while I was dragged across the flags. Her dark hair was styled, her silk gown rustling softly against the doorframe as she sized me up with eyes that made my skin crawl.
"Well, well, well," she purred, her lips curling into a sharp, nasty little smile. "If it isn't the princess in distress." She took a slow step closer, her gaze dragging down the front of my oversized linen top before hitting my bare legs. "And even wearing the King's clothes. Wow."
Panic flared straight up my spine. My shoulders hitched, and my hands instinctively let go of the duvet to drop down
