A Light So Blinding (The Kingdom Below #2)

Chapter 1

One

Astrid

Priestess of high regard,

It has come to our attention that you are seeking your lost sister. Rose is safe with us, but we need your help if you ever wish to get her back.

There is a troll locked in that labyrinth. We’re aware of it, yes. There are those in this kingdom who know the dark desires of your king and all the terrible deeds he is willing to do to satisfy his own malicious desires.

A troll with horns and dark green skin, that is who we want.

We offer you a trade. Your sister, for that troll.

Otherwise, we will do with her as we see fit.

Signed,

King Egil, son of Olaf Witch-Breaker

The words flickered in candlelight that made the ink seem illuminated through the thin paper.

Astrid stared at the letter in her hand and didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry.

Countless letters had been sent to her just like this throughout the years—people who swore they had seen Rose.

Some had told her they were the only ones who could bring her sister back.

Stories that always led her down a rabbit hole to nowhere.

But no one had ever claimed to be a troll before. At least this person was original.

Although... she hadn’t the faintest idea who would dare to mention the labyrinth so glibly, or who would even know about it. The king was very secretive, and hand chose which nobles and their families were allowed into that dark place.

Staring at the paper in her hand, she had to notice as well that it wasn’t the same texture as the paper she was used to.

Sure, it could all be planned to make her think this had actually been sent by trolls.

But there were claw marks at the edge, and the writing was harsher, almost rudimentary, like the person wasn’t used to writing at all.

And then there was the smell, almost musty, like it had been written in a cave.

A knock on the door resounded throughout her room, and she jumped. Astrid whirled toward the door as though expecting someone to walk into the room at any moment and see her clutching a letter from trolls.

“Our lord would like to see you!” A feminine voice drifted through the door. “He said to tell you he has little patience today.”

Of course he had little patience; the man never had such a thing. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted. Such was the life of a rich man.

Standing, Astrid realized that her room was unfortunately in chaos.

She’d been so wrapped up in her studies, remembering all the names of all the nobles and making sure that she memorized all their secrets, that she hadn’t cleaned in weeks.

Her bed was piled high with all the silk and satin dresses that had been delivered a week ago.

Her dresser was similarly drowning. And then, of course, her mirror was nearly entirely covered by the veils that would hide her face from all those who might dare to look at a priestess standing with her nobleman.

“He’s not patient today?” she shouted, rushing forward to at least grab a reasonable veil. And then she saw herself in the mirror.

“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath.

“I’d even go so far as to say he’s angry,” the priestess on the other side said. “You had better hurry. What is taking you so long?”

Her hair was wild. Her eyes were sunken and hollow. She looked like a wraith, and that wouldn’t do. Lord Tolly prided himself on beauty at all costs. He made sure that everyone knew his power and wealth simply by what he surrounded himself with. He’d take one look at her and send her away.

Frantic now, she rushed for her desk and picked up the paper that very well might have been the only connection to her sister that she would ever get. She read it one more time, her eyes dancing over the strangely scrawled words, and then held it to the candle on her desk.

It didn’t take long to light on fire, nor did it take long to burn. Astrid kept hold of it until the very last second and then dropped the paper onto the floor, stamped out the last bit of flames and kicked it under her desk.

“Help me!” she shouted. “Come in and help me!”

The door opened, revealing a much younger priestess, who had just joined their sisterhood. Her name was Marten, a strange name for a woman, but she was pretty enough to be here. Her blonde hair gleamed in the candlelight that made her horrified gaze turn red.

“Priestess!” Marten said, her hands flying to her mouth. “What happened to you?”

Stress. She had a lot riding on her shoulders at all times because she was the closest priestess to Lord Tolly, and there were many things expected of her.

Political meetings, knowledge of everyone attending, meetings with other priestesses and bartering secrets, not to mention keeping all of it straight for a lord who loved his alcohol more than his own people.

Gesturing with her hand, she ushered the younger woman into the room. “Enough with that. Just help me get dressed.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I will do my best.”

Together, they rushed to make her look presentable.

Astrid stripped out of her clothing and yanked another dress on.

This one was stunning in white and gold.

The gossamer fabric was nearly entirely transparent, although there were strips of golden fabric over her breasts that narrowed to a V between her legs.

It hid enough, but would do its job as a distraction.

Lord Tolly would be looking at her body more than her face.

Beading covered the entire thing, tiny gold beads that dripped down her shoulders and hips.

A single bead pinged off as she moved awkwardly. It skittered across the floor, rolling underneath her desk, where she could see a portion of the letter hadn’t entirely burned.

The portion that still said King Egil.

Sucking in her breath when Marten moved to get the bead, she hissed out, “Leave it! We don’t have time.”

Harsh words, but the last thing she needed was the sisterhood assuming she was communicating with trolls. She’d learned long ago that it was better to be known as mean than someone who could be taken advantage of.

Marten hustled back to her, finishing brushing her hair with a harsh pull that made her scalp sting but got the job done fast enough. “Which veil? The partial face covering?”

No, she knew the veil she would use. Lord Tolly was a simple man, after all. Beauty was the only thing he cared about, and he certainly did not care if he saw the faces of the priestesses he housed.

She reached for the gold chain veil. It was little more than strategically placed links, ones that revealed her eyes and allowed glimpses of her red lips.

It would bedazzle him with the tiny stones woven in between the gold.

He wouldn’t look at the hollows beneath her eyes, or the way she could barely keep them open.

He’d be too busy staring at her body and the wealth that dripped from her.

Astrid took one last look at herself in the mirror before nodding. “Where is he?”

“He was last in the parlor. He said he was entertaining a few other noblemen, and that’s why he needed you.”

“Shit,” she muttered before rushing out of the room.

As a priestess, her job was to keep all the secrets that Lord Tolly couldn’t remember.

She stood beside him and told him all the things he needed to know, so he didn’t have to waste his time remembering anything about anyone.

He was the figurehead, and she was the whispering snake wrapped around his neck.

If he were alone with any nobles, he likely had already made a mistake she’d have to fix later. Foolish man. He should have waited for her. Or at the very least, come for her himself.

The halls of this home were stunning, but she didn’t have time to marvel at their beauty. She often did, because Astrid reminded herself every day where she had come from. As orphans, Astrid and her sister had grown up in squalor. She knew what it was like to go hungry.

This house was everything she hadn’t had as a child.

Thick rugs cushioned her feet, making her footsteps nearly silent as she walked.

The portraits on the walls had all been hand-painted by the greatest artisans alive, and the frames were gold.

Actual gold. The walls were plastered with wallpaper that had also been hand-painted.

Everything in this building dripped with luxury and wealth that had no right to be spent the way it was.

She rounded a corner and headed toward the parlor, where she could already hear men’s voices. The murmuring tones didn’t seem overly upset, so that was a good sign as she headed in.

Astrid didn’t knock. She did not need to. She was Lord Tolly’s personal priestess, not just some acolyte who was trying to catch the attention of another nobleman. She was renowned throughout the kingdom for her work with her lord. No one questioned her.

The parlor was lit with oil lamps that filled the room with a peculiar smell.

She’d never liked being inside a windowless room, but all of Lord Tolly’s rooms were like this.

This one was decorated with the colors of her lord, greens and yellows, some of them rather sickly.

The chairs were all in a circle, with a large table in the center.

Already, maids were entering with food and drink for the visitors, and they would keep those options coming even though their own kitchen was a little bare at the moment.

Three men sat in the parlor. Two Astrid did not immediately recognize, although she would have to remember them soon enough.

One man had silver hair that was slicked back against his skull, and the other.

.. Ah, this was Lord Harwick and his son.

Her mind raced to catch up with all the information she knew about the two of them.