(Book One in the Celestial series)
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She didn't remember much of her former life---except for perhaps the cool scent of the ocean breeze as it filled her nose, or the hard-set lines of her brother's face, maybe even the tune her mother had used to...
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"His laugh, bitter as nightshade."
"YOU'RE HERE TO ASK something of us." Was the first thing that came out of Esara's mouth, the words blurting from her lips as fast as they came into her mind.
Well...they had wanted to ask something of Celaena, clearly. But now her friend had added Esara into the mix.
Had she had more common sense, she might have cursed herself for speaking out of turn. Perhaps five years ago she might have been embarrassed. Now she didn't really care.
The prince smiled slowly, tilting his head just slightly. A small strand of hair fell over his forehead at the motion. "What gives you that impression?"
Esara merely arched a brow, her back straight and confident as her eyes wandered the room, marking her surroundings with a cold calculation. Her gaze strayed back to the man, "What wouldn't? A Prince pulling two slaves from the mines out of the goodness of his heart? That's likely." she snorted.
Thundering steps issued from behind her, and someone grabbed her by the neck. Esara only glimpsed crimson cheeks and a sandy mustache before being thrown to the icy marble floor. Pain slammed through her, light splintering her vision. Her arms ached as her bound hands kept her joints from properly aligning.
"That is the proper way to greet your future king," a red-faced man snapped at her.
"Don't touch her." Another voice slipped through, and Esara turned her gaze to the angry Celaena looking at whoever was behind her. "Not if you want help in in whatever it is you've called me here for."
Silently, Esara shook her head at the woman, telling her not to interfere.
After a too-long moment, the Crown Prince spoke. "I don't quite comprehend why you'd force someone to bow when the purpose of the gesture is to display allegiance and respect." His words were coated with glorious boredom. "It's clear that you respect me, Duke Perrington, but it's a bit unnecessary to put such effort into forcing her to have the same opinion. "So perhaps your intent is to humiliate her." He paused, and she could have sworn his eyes fell on her face. "But I think she's had enough of that." He stopped for another moment, then asked: "Don't you have a meeting with Endovier's treasurer? I wouldn't want you to be late, especially when you came all this way to meet with him."
Understanding the dismissal, her tormentor grunted and released her. Esara peeled her cheek from the marble, and she rose, she frowned at the imprint of grit she left behind on the otherwise spotless floor, and at the clank of her shackles echoing through the silent room. She forced the feeling that seemed to bubble up now. She'd been this dirty for the past five years, there was no reason to be embarrassed now simply because there was a prince standing before her.
She would not be humiliated by anything, least of all that. Gathering her pride, she tossed her long hair behind a shoulder and lifted her head. The hair that was no longer matted, simply because her friend was kind enough to spend most nights combing through it with her fingers.
