It Isn't Easy Being Queen

18. The Royal Bedchamber

My stomach wrenched. "What was that?" I whispered.

"No idea. Hungry troll? Escaped prisoner? The kidnappers? It's hard to tell these days. Wait, did you wish for a monster?"

Huh? How would anyone know I wished for a monster? And it wasn't a genuine wish! It was freaking sarcasm. "I may've almost wished, but it wasn't serious. I was tired of all the suits of armor and depressing oil paintings."

"Just watch your back. And let's speed up. The faster you're safely inside your room, the better."

This was when I was inspired by a brilliant idea.

I sped up, taking two stairs at a time, ignoring the pain, and passed Olivia. Look, maybe the hungry monster would be satisfied with one meal, and I didn't want to be the first up on the menu.

(And don't tell me how evil it was to want my new friend to be eaten. I was only being pragmatic!)

With each step, the air grew colder and damper and the sense of unease grew stronger.

Strange noises seemed to emanate from every shadow—hoarse whispers, the click click click of footsteps, and the scratching of claws on stone—but when I turned to look, no one was ever there.

A sense of dread, like a cold blanket of fog, wrapped itself around me. The eerie eyes of every painting and the blank metallic stares of the armored helmets all seemed to follow us as we climbed. And I couldn't shake the feeling that something might be waiting for us at the top. In that case, my brilliant move of being in front wouldn't turn out to be so brilliant.

If someone was kidnapping witches for a nefarious reason, then I would be an easy target. I had uncontrollable magic and knew nothing about survival in this world. Believe me when I say this was not a comforting thought.

No one had ever heard from those kidnapped witches ever again. Maybe they were being killed. But why? For what purpose? "Why do you think someone kidnapped those witches?" I blurted.

"Shhh. Someone might be waiting for us at the top," she whispered.

"Great."

"Shhh."

Figures Petronella would put me in the highest tower like some lame fairy-tale princess who needs a prince to rescue her!

Finally, the stairs dead-ended in a narrow landing in front of two doors of enormous size. One was twice as tall as me with a cast iron gargoyle knocker. The other was three times as tall and made of solid gold, with hundreds of metallic eyes cast into the surface.

There were no monsters in sight, but the sounds of scratching, footsteps, and whispers continued. "If there are no monsters following us, then who's making all that racket?" I said, even as relief coursed through me.

"Must be the castle's way of giving you a warm welcome," she said.

"What does it do when it's giving you a cold welcome?"

"You don't want to know."

I probably didn't. "Please tell me my room isn't on the other side of that creepy door with all the eyes," I said.

The golden door suddenly shifted and blurred like a bad photograph, and when it came back into focus, the eyes were alive, blinking and staring at me. You really don't know what it's like to be given the once over until you've had the joyful experience of a thousand gold eyes inspecting you simultaneously.

Olivia laughed. "That is Petronella's room.

"Right next to mine?"

"She wants to keep an eye on you!" Olivia chuckled. "Or a thousand eyes on you!"