Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Bailey’s POV

I woke up to the sound of footsteps rushing past my cell. My brain refused to cooperate with the idea of standing up. My body felt like it had merged with the cold stone floor — heavy, numb, and utterly done with existing. It was like having the worst hangover imaginable, except I hadn’t earned it with tequila shots and bad karaoke. Nope. This one was courtesy of my overuse of magic.

Every muscle ached, my head pounded, and to top it off, I hadn’t slept much either. The constant drip, drip, drip from the ceiling had driven me halfway to insanity. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been here. Hours? A day? Two?

My mind, of course, chose this moment to panic about Spike.

Oh God, where was he? Did Nathaniel hurt him again? How bad was it this time?

That image of him bleeding in the vision last night replayed in my mind like a cruel movie loop.

This was the second time someone had been hurt because of me. That’s why I said yes to Nathaniel’s psychotic proposal. I still couldn’t quite believe it had actually happened. There was a part of me that kept waiting to wake up and find out this was just one of those weird, overly vivid dreams.

Three days. That’s how long it had been since I was a normal university student. In seventy-two hours, I’d become a host for dark magic, a fugitive, and now… an engaged woman.

An. Engaged. Woman.

Someone slap me. Hard.

If Ingrid and Chloe were here, Ingrid would probably actually slap me for saying yes, and Chloe would squeal like she just found out I was dating a K-drama prince. I missed them so much it hurt. They were probably wondering why I hadn’t shown up to class, or why my phone had gone silent.

With great effort, I pushed myself off the floor. My cheek was ice cold, and my limbs were stiff from sleeping in the world’s most uncomfortable yoga pose. I stretched until my joints popped and rolled my neck. Slightly better.

The faint sunlight seeping through the tiny barred window revealed what a nightmare this cell really was. Plain concrete walls. Filthy floor. Spider webs everywhere. Moist ceiling with an endless drip of water. And the smell — a rank combination of mildew and urine so strong it made my eyes water.

I probably needed a tetanus shot. Or an exorcism. Maybe both.

Footsteps approached the door, followed by the click of a lock. The door swung open, and there she was — Kara.

Perfect. Just what my day needed.

She stood in the doorway looking every bit the flawless, smug goddess she thought she was. Her sharp red bob gleamed, her makeup was art, and her strapless emerald dress looked painted onto her body. Meanwhile, I looked like I’d been mugged by a sewer rat. Twice.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” she said with a smirk, clearly savoring my misery.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, but she ignored me.

“His Majesty instructed me to bring you to his chambers and get you cleaned up,” she said, her voice crisp with boredom.

I followed her out of the cell. The air outside almost felt fresh. Almost.

“And did His Majesty happen to mention what’ll happen to me after I’m clean?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes flicked to me briefly. She knew something.

“No. But from now on, you’ll have an escort everywhere you go — unless it’s the king himself."

Oh, perfect. I was getting a babysitter. Goodbye, freedom. Hello, supervised bathroom breaks.

“Your escort for today is Lieutenant Benjamin Waters,” she added. “He’ll accompany you to the dining hall.”

My stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. I hadn’t eaten in two days. Food suddenly sounded like the greatest invention of mankind.

As we walked, I caught glimpses of workers repairing the damage from Spike’s cell incident. They were standing on transparent magical bridges above the lake, carefully avoiding the water — which, apparently, was booby-trapped. Nathaniel really took the phrase “trust issues” to Olympic levels.

We reached the massive castle doors, and Kara opened them with a flick of her hand. Inside, she led me straight to an elevator. I nearly cried with joy. Praise be to whoever invented these things. My legs were killing me.

As the elevator moved, my mind wandered. Maybe this place had a library. I needed answers — real ones. What spell had Tristan used on me? Could it be broken? Could I turn Nathaniel into a frog? (Or a pig. Either worked.) And most importantly… what the hell was I now?

The elevator jolted to a stop, snapping me out of my thoughts. The doors opened to reveal the glass hallway I remembered — the one leading straight to Nathaniel’s room. Great. Round two.

By the time we reached the end, I was dragging my feet like a zombie. Kara looked as composed as ever, because of course she did.

She disabled the protection spell, and we stepped inside.

The room looked pristine again. The chaos I’d caused was gone. Sheets smooth, floors polished, lavender scent in the air. A small vase of purple flowers sat on the nightstand. For a second, it almost felt… peaceful.

Kara disappeared into the bathroom to prepare my bath. I wandered to the dresser and found fresh clothes — gray sweatpants, a soft baby-blue V-neck shirt, socks, and underwear. Heaven.

“The bath is ready,” Kara said when she returned. “Benjamin will arrive in about an hour. Be ready.”

I nodded, genuinely grateful. “Hey… thanks for doing this.”

She froze mid-step and turned to me. Her face was unreadable for a moment. Then she spoke, her tone cutting.

“I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing it because His Majesty ordered it. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you matter to anyone here. Once he’s finished with you, your pathetic little existence will end.”

Her words sliced sharper than any blade.

I frowned. “If his goal is to kill me, then why did he propose to me?”

The room fell silent. Kara’s expression shifted — confusion first, then fury. Her pupils darkened, and the air around her crackled with magic.

“What… did you just say?” she hissed.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. My stupid mouth.

She trembled with rage. Yellow light began sparking around her fists. “He proposed to you? To you?! A pathetic little—”

“Uh—”

Her scream echoed off the walls. “Aaaargghh!”

She threw the door open, stormed out, and something shattered outside — loudly. It could’ve easily been my face.

Then she was gone, teleporting away in a violent surge of power.

And I was left standing there, clutching the clothes to my chest like a frightened raccoon, heart pounding in my throat.

Everyone here was going to want me dead.

I’d better start sleeping with one eye open. Or maybe two.