Аманда Хокинг - Torn

“How are you feeling?” Sara offered me a smile.

“Better. Thank you.” I wasn’t certain that I should be thanking her. She had healed me, but she had something to do with me getting hurt in the first place.

“You’ll want to get changed.” Sara nodded to my clothes as she stood up. “I might have something in your size.”

“Thanks, but I don’t really care about my clothes. I want to know what’s going on.

Why did you kidnap me?” I felt exasperated, and I know it came out in my words, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sure I have something,” Sara continued, as if I hadn’t said anything. She walked over to a large closet in the corner and opened the door. “It might be a little big on you, but I’m sure it’ll work.” After looking for a matter of seconds, she pulled out a long black dress.

“I really don’t give a damn about the clothes!” I snapped. “I want to know why you keep chasing after me! I can’t give you what you want if I don’t know what it is!”

As she walked to the bed, I realized she was uncomfortable looking at me. Her eyes seemed to go everywhere just to avoid me. Any time they did land on me, she was quick to look away. She went over to the bed, laying my dress on it.

“You sent them out to talk and now you won’t say anything?” I asked, growing even more frustrated.

“I’ve imagined this day for a long time.” Sara lovingly touched the dress, smoothing it out in the bed. “Yet here it is, and I feel so unprepared.”

“Seriously. What does that mean?” I said.

Her expression pained for a minute, then went to the same blank, serene look she held before.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to get dressed.” She turned her back to me, walking over to a folding screen in the corner.

A fantasy scene similar to the one on the doors had been painted across on it, and a black and red ball gown hung from the edge. Sara went behind the screen, taking the dress off it, to change in privacy.

“Do you know where Finn is?” I asked with a painful lump in my chest.

“That’s your tracker?” Sara asked, draping the robe over the screen. I could only see the top of her head above it.

“Yes.” I swallowed hard, fearing the worst.

“I’m not sure where he is. We don’t have him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why hasn’t he come for me? How did he let you take me away?” I demanded.

“I assumed they detained him until they got away with you.” She slipped the dress over her head, so her words muffled for a moment. “I’m not certain of the specifics, but they had orders not to hurt anyone if they didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, and Kyra’s orders were not to hurt me, right?” I asked wryly, and Sara didn’t say anything. “Can you just tell me if he’s okay?”

“Loki didn’t report any fatalities,” Sara said.

“He was in charge of bringing me here?” I looked at the closed doors behind us, realizing too late that I should’ve been asking him these questions. I thought about going after him, but then Sara came out from behind the screen.

“Yes. And other than Kyra’s… outburst, Loki recounted that everything went well.”

She ran her hands along her skirt, then pointed to the dress on the bed. “Please.

Get dressed. We’re going to see the King.”

“And he’ll answer my questions?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Yes. I’m certain he’ll tell you everything,” Sara nodded, keeping her eyes locked on the floor.

I decided to go along with it. If he tried to give me the run around, I would bolt. I didn’t have time to waste on vague answers and evasive language. Matt and Rhys were captive, and Rhys couldn’t even sit down.

But I also needed them to like me, so maybe I could talk them into letting Matt and Rhys go. If that meant I had to be put on a silly little dress, so be it.

I went behind the screen and changed while Sara continued getting ready. She put one of the necklaces that the hobgoblin had left on the table for her and let down her hair. It was black and straight, shining like silk down her back. It reminded me of Elora’s.

I wondered what Elora would make of all this. Would she send out a rescue mission to get me? Did she even know I was gone?

After I put on the dress, Sara tried to tie a loose ribbon on the back, but I wouldn’t let her. She had reached out to touch it, and when I snapped at her to leave it alone, her expression fell into something tragic. Her hands hung in the air for a moment, as if she couldn’t believe what happened. Then she let them fall to her side and nodded.

Without saying anything, she led me down the hall. At the end, we came to another set of doors that mirrored the ones on her chamber. She knocked, and while we waited for a response, she smoothed down her skirt again. Crimson and black lace adorned it, and it lay perfectly flat, so I suspected this was some kind of nervous habit.

“Come in,” a strong, gravelly voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Sara nodded, as if he could see her, then pushed open the door.

The room was windowless, as had been every room I’d seen, and the walls were a dark mahogany wood. Despite its massive size, the room had a cave-like effect to it. One wall was covered floor to ceiling with bookcases, and a heavy wooden desk sat nearby. The only other furniture was several elegant red chairs.

The largest one, with intricate designs on the wooden feet, sat directly across from us, and a man sat in it. His dark brown hair ran long, past his shoulders. He wore all black - pressed pants, a dress shirt, and a long jacket that more resembled a robe. He was handsome, in a battled kind of way, and he appeared to be in his forties.

Loki had been sitting in a chair, but he stood up when we came in. Froud the small dog had disappeared entirely, and I hoped they hadn’t eaten it or something equally horrible.

“Ah, Princess.” The King smiled when he saw me but didn’t get up. His eyes flitted over to Loki for the briefest of seconds. “Loki, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Sire.” Loki bowed and hastily departed. He left me with the impression that he didn’t enjoy the company of the King, and that made me all the more nervous.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” I asked the King directly, and his smile widened.

“I suppose we should start with the basics,” he said. “I’m the King of the Vittra.

My name is Oren, and I am your father.”

My first thought was the most obvious: he’s lying.

This was quickly followed by: what if he isn’t lying?

Elora, by all accounts, had been a horrible mother who cared very little for me. I thought of the encounter I’d had a few minutes before with Sara. She had lovingly caressed my dress saying, “I’ve imagined this day for a very long time.”

Sara stood nearby, wringing her hands. She met my eyes for the first time and smiled hopefully at me, but there still seemed to be a sadness in her face that I didn’t understand.

I didn’t look like her, not any more than I looked like Elora. They both far surpassed me in beauty, but Sara appeared much younger, only in her early thirties.

“So…” I swallowed, forcing my mouth to work, and turned to Oren. “You’re saying that Elora isn’t my mother?”

“No, unfortunately, Elora is your mother,” he said with a heavy sigh.

This confused me even more. His admission gave more credence to his words, though. It would be simpler for him to lie to me. He could’ve told me that he and Sara are my parents, and if I’d believed that, it would make it more enticing for me to stay with him and take his side.