Ciara wasn’t aware that her bedfellow was awake. She was, however, well aware of the entire sequence of events the night before, whether Gavin was or not. It was always flattering when guys complimented her, though it was hardly outside the norm. Still, she didn’t meet many artists who wanted her to pose for them. The trip to the room had been physically innocuous and child-friendly. But closed doors had a habit of releasing inhibitions in all parties involved. That she was a bit of a whore had circulated within the castle walls, mostly among the ladies and out of earshot of the king, was well known by Ciara, but she didn’t much care what the women of the court thought of her. She wasn’t there to entertain them.

Still, nights of fun ended and woke to awkward mornings of men who felt guilty or who knew what other emotions that were suffocated by pure lust the night before. She groaned slightly as the man moved from the covers, grumblingly chastising her familiar for waking him. Nalani screamed, in the way monkeys do, but once Ciara stood and moved to one of the piles, she quieted and sat on the pillow that had just been vacated. Green silk, which had not been worn since the prince’s birthday festivities, were pulled over her shoulders before she glanced into the looking glass. Make-up had smudged across her face, and it was entirely possible those smudges did not stop with her own body.

Right beside the wide windows, the reflection provided a moment to look into the courtyard of the castle as well, as guradds ran to and fro outside, trying to determine the whereabouts or who or whatever had entered the castle unannounced. There had been rumors of plots to free the manekhtite prisoners, as well as a few whispers about possible assassination attempts on the king. Whatever this was, Ciara had full faith that the guards were more than equipped to deal with any adversary they faced.

Her hand found an old ring she’d once worn. Filled with meaning, it was far less painful for it to stay hidden in a drawer in her vanity, but Ciara, try as she might to leave the past, couldn’t bear to hide away her engagement ring, though men tended not to notice such things. She was free, and yet felt bound to him still. But the loud thumping in her closet (which had been neglected largely since her return from the castle) pulled her to the present, and her attention to the man standing nude nearby.

“Please tell me you didn’t hear that.”

It would be far more comforting to know that she was going crazy, hearing sounds that weren’t there. Or maybe this was just a dream and she hadn’t really woken from her slumber yet. A quick bite from Nalani certified that a dream was not an option, and from the look on Gavin’s face, it wasn’t a hallucination either. With trembling hands, Ciara opened the door to a face of horror and death. A face that, until recently, had only been described in horror stories and fairytales to scare children into behaving.