Chapter 49
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
MORGANA
W hen the carriage came to a halt, I was snapped from my nervous reverie. I pushed open the door myself, not interested in waiting for the coachman to lurch off his seat to open it for me. I wanted to twist around and hiss insults toward Aster for not communicating the formality of riding separate coaches, but when I stepped out, the sight that lay before me quelled my anger.
The Avendatis palace stood tall on the horizon, bathed in the light of the full moon. It was a spectacle of grandeur, with its steep turrets and towers reaching for the night sky, adorned with intricate carvings and glittering gems. The castle seemed to radiate a pale aura—as if the silver pillars and spandrels had the power to incite fear.
I turned my attention to Aster and Erynna as they exited their carriage. Without a word, they escorted me up to the castle where an equerry swung open the double door entrance. Half a dozen servants chased after him, rushing to straighten their hair. The equerry, a stout man with thin, balding hair and a curled mustache, huffed about ten times before saying, “The crown is not expecting any guests. ”
In my periphery, I saw Aster take out a yellowed piece of parchment and hand it to him. He even bowed his head out of respect, something I wasn’t quite expecting. Status was everything to people of nobility.
And this man, while high ranking within those castle walls, meant nothing to a soon-to-be king.
The equerry’s face turned pale after reading the letter and folding it up in haste. “This just… this won’t do,” he muttered to himself, eyes dragging across the three of us. Smacking the paper against the air, he twisted around and barked, “Follow me, Prince Aster and Princess Erynna.”
My mouth parted at the cold bite in his tone. I trailed behind them, my jaw clenched. Aster’s gaze flicked over to me, a flash of concern in his eyes, but he said nothing. Erynna, on the other hand, smiled in that smug way of hers, as though she had orchestrated the whole thing. We were led through the palace’s grand halls, their walls adorned with tapestries depicting fierce battles and legendary heroes. It painted Avendatis a victor—a tale I knew all too well was false.
We were escorted into a large den. There were no bookshelves; rather, there were built-in cupboards with glass paneling full of heirlooms, artifacts, and precious metals. I ignored the equerry’s instructions—something about waiting here for a member of the royal family—and started studying each and every piece. Most of them were pieces of jewelry worn by former monarchs, a few crowns thrown into the mix, but a few pieces supposedly originated from Vespera, if the plaques were to be trusted.
Considering this place practically outlawed reading, I had my doubts.
“So, what is the plan if they escort us right back outside?” I muttered and finally turned to face the two of them. Aster was leaning against a column, his arms crossed over his chest and head angled toward the ground. He was so defeated—like he’d already accepted such a fate. Erynna took a seat on one of the lavish chairs and balled a fist beneath her chin.
“Well, if I’m being honest, that’s not an option. We’ll have to resort to violence.”
“That’s gone so well, historically,” Aster muttered and shifted from the column to a seat next to his sister. He slowly acknowledged me with his eyes. They widened, if for a moment, before he jerked his head away and stared at one of the paintings on the wall.
After a while of standing—or sitting—in silence, the doors opened and a butler walked in with this shockingly wide smile. “Good evening, friends. The king and queen are off enjoying the festivities, as I am sure you understand. They are aware of your arrival, and would be more than happy to house you during your brief visit.”
Aster didn’t stand from his chair, rubbing a finger across his jaw as he looked the man up and down. The equerry was behind the butler, his face red with sweat lining his brow. Aster finally offered a smile. “Brief is the key word, is it not?”
The butler’s face twitched. “However brief the king and queen permit, yes.”
“Lovely. And, tell me… sorry, I don’t think I know your name?”
“Mr. Quillson, Your Royal Highness.”
“Well, Mr. Penson,” Aster said quickly, and I almost burst into a fit of laughter. I had to bite my tongue to remain quiet. “I trust you will ensure the king and queen know of our intention. We believe they have something of ours, and we are willing to right this wrong within record time.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” the butler said beneath his breath and bowed his head. “Let me show you to your rooms then. His Royal Majesty will see you come the morning.”
“Please see to it that they do,” he said with such quiet command, it almost made me shiver. As if it were I that needed to fear him. I respected the presence he held—even if I knew it wasn’t true to who he was.
No, Aster was a kind enough man.
I’d be stuck with the unfortunate truth that he was anything but a monster after the night we shared. It almost made me smile—but this irrational fear forced it back into my gut. He was still hiding things.
Aster turned away from the butler without a word, the chill that lingered enough to freeze me at the core. It took everything in me not to stare at the two of them, to balk in their regal disinterest. For a brief moment, I saw who it was they were each trained to be.
Cold, ruthless leaders.
For all I knew, it was part of the act.
I just really hate acting.