CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EMMA ENDLESS
Every morning, he came to visit me. Every morning he would ask, “Have you changed your mind yet my sweet?”
From my bed, I would look at him coldly, and reply, “No.”
He would then leave me alone, to spend the day by myself, locked in the tower. I had no visitors, nothing to entertain myself with. Only the head of the faerie he’d beheaded to keep me company.
Finally, one night, I heard a commotion outside of the door. “Wankers!” I heard a familiar voice shout. I would have known that voice anywhere.
“Bradley?” I called.
“Emma!” He shouted.
“Bradley, what are you doing here?”
“Committing treason,” he answered, “you’re not near the door, are you?”
“I can’t walk,” I admitted, “my pelvis----”
“I know, I know,” he said, “it’s what started th
