The prince departed soon after he delivered the threatening words, leaving me alone in the sitting room. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, so I sat and waited for someone else to come and tell me where I should go.

When the door finally opened again, it was the butler, followed by my parents.

I stood up abruptly as my father strode straight across the room. “I’m—”

His slap cut off my words, and I fell to the settee again, clutching my stinging cheek. And suddenly my mother was there, gripping me by the shoulder and shaking me. “Where is Isolde?” she sobbed.

My father stood over us, glaring at me. “Well?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, but this is what’s best for Isolde.” She would be on the merchant boat by now, surely. On the boat and off to find a life of adventure, I hoped.

“What’s best for Isolde?” my father parroted back. “What’s best for her is what’s best for us! To marry the demon prince so our family is no longer destitute!”

Disgusted, I shook my head. I had never agreed with them about marrying off Isolde, and though I knew I should feel sorry for the deception, I didn’t.

“You never asked her what she wanted,” I said. “She never wanted to get married at all.”

“It’s her duty and the only thing she’s good for! To get married and help her family’s honor!”

The words were enough to send me to my feet, and I glared down at him—grateful for once that I was a few inches taller. “And what about you? Does your drinking and gambling help the family honor?”

My father lifted his hand, rearing back to slap me again, but someone coughed from the doorway, and all three of us turned to see the butler standing there, a perfectly stoic expression on his face.

“The consort is to come with me to his new quarters.”

I’d never been so happy to be ordered to go somewhere else. “Don’t worry,” I told my parents in a low voice, barely keeping my anger in check. “I’ll make sure you get paid. You still managed to sell off one of your children successfully, after all.”

I left them staring after me in stony silence to follow the butler out. The man said nothing of what he had just witnessed, and I could only imagine what must have been going through his mind. Not that it mattered. I’d ruined things for myself, but as long as Isolde was happy, I could bear the rest. Being married to a prince wasn’t the worst fate in the world.

I was led in silence through the palace, and I couldn’t help but take in the cavernous halls and ornate furnishings with awe. I’d never been inside before, but it was even bigger than I’d first thought. So many painted ceilings and statues looking down from banisters. Staircase after staircase, each one wide enough to fit at least five people walking abreast of each other.

And the paintings…we passed at least a dozen, and I imagined there were more in a gallery somewhere. But each one I saw had to be from a master, because the work was impeccable—only natural they’d been deemed suitable to hang in the palace.

As the butler led me through a set of doors and into another wing, I decided to break the silence. “Where are we going?”

“The prince has assigned your rooms to you.”

He said nothing else, and I kept the rest of my questions to myself, though I was confused when he led me into yet another wing, the one clearly unused. All of the paintings and statues were covered in sheets, there was a layer of dust on the floors, and the windows were obviously in need of washing. Something about it felt a touch eerie, and I wondered again where we were going.

We finally came to a spiral staircase, which the butler started climbing. Glancing back at the dust-lined corridor, I followed. It must have been at least ten stories we climbed before the butler finally stopped in front of a single wooden door.

By then, my lungs were burning, and the butler seemed just as out of breath. I bent over, trying to catch my own while the man unlocked the door and let it swing open.

It was a tower room, a very dilapidated one. “Your quarters,” the butler said, gesturing for me to go in.

I did so hesitantly. As much as I was used to broken-down things at my family estate, this was somehow impossibly worse. The bed frame, clearly once made of iron, was totally rusted. The dresser was, by the looks of it, rotting, and the window had a broken pane.

I turned back to the butler in disbelief. “Really? This is the room of the royal consort?”

The butler nodded, his expression stoic as ever.

“Wait, is there a change of clothes?” I asked. “Shouldn’t I go to the banquet after the ceremony?”

The butler frowned. “That has been canceled. The trunks sent by your family are there.” He pointed to the corner where several trunks sat.

“Right,” I said. “Thank you.”

The butler inclined his head before disappearing, and I walked to the broken window, sighing at the situation I had found myself in. I suppose the prince doesn’t want people to speculate during the banquet, I thought. Not when we haven’t gotten our story straight.

I went to the trunks, but when I opened them, it was Isolde’s clothes and not my own that spilled out. Wonderful. I had literally nothing to wear but the clothes on my back. This really was starting out swimmingly.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the prince had been planning to send my sister to this very same room, or if it was a last-minute change due to recent events. Either way, it seemed petty—cruel, even—when there were likely hundreds of much nicer rooms in the palace.

I picked up a thick emerald scarf, one I remembered Isolde wearing often during harsher winters. Pressing it to my face, I inhaled the familiar scent. “I hope you’re safe now,” I whispered. As much as I wanted to see her again one day, some part of me hoped she would sail off into the sunset to warmer waters and never set foot on this land again. There were better things out there for her than the misery and anger that awaited if she ever returned to the family estate.

When I sat on the bed, the mattress sagged, and it all seemed to hit me then just what I had gotten myself into. I’d been so busy trying to convince the prince not to imprison me and then being angry with my parents that I had never really stopped and considered what it meant now that I was the royal consort. I would have to live the rest of my life in the palace. From what I understood, consorts weren’t really allowed to go anywhere or do anything without the prince.

Which meant that I was effectively a prisoner here. But at least I could send for some of my things, like my canvases and notebooks. And then I would have my art and inventions to keep me occupied. That was all I ever really needed in the past, so…I could make do. I would be fine.

Just as I was beginning to wonder how I was going to make this room more livable, there was a knock on the door. I expected the butler but found instead a young page boy, probably twelve or a little younger. He had a dark mop of hair and eyes that seemed to sparkle as he looked up at me.

“Can I help you?” I asked curiously.

“It’s what I can do to help you! My name’s Oscar. I’m going to be your personal majordomo.”

I started to laugh, and then I realized…no, he was quite serious. “Um, okay, well then…I suppose the first thing you can do is get me something to wear? I’m afraid I have nothing but the clothes on my back at the moment.”

Oscar nodded. “Yes, sir. And I have a message to deliver as well.” He held out a folded piece of paper before zipping down the stairs. I had to wonder if the reason he’d landed this particular job was due to his spryness. Who else but someone young and eager to please would be willing to go up and down that many stairs all day?

Shaking my head, I unfolded the paper. It was a brief note, but the scrawled words were enough to send a shiver down my spine.

Come to my rooms. Now. B

I blinked, wondering if this was real. But there could be no denying the seal on the back of the paper.

The prince had summoned me.