Chapter 15 #2
My steps falter as I take in the grandiose building.
Smooth, slender white pillars support the domed ceiling.
Large windows are set in the walls, reflecting the sun’s light, preventing me from seeing inside.
I count three levels, but each one is at least twice the height of my cottage in Verdanthia.
It’s…breathtaking.
Darius gives my hand a squeeze. “Come.”
I drop my gaze and mutter, “Sorry.”
He smiles with understanding, then leads me toward the massive doors that the others have already stepped through.
Another courtyard spreads out before us. The building stretches upward three stories, railed walkways circling us like tiers of a viewing pit. At least a dozen people line them, draped in the same flowing, sheet-style garments as the mayor and his wife.
Every step we take across the mosaic-tiled floor draws their attention. They stop. They stare. Intrigue, and something uncomfortably close to awe, flickers across their faces.
I stare down at my drab slippers moving over the colorful stones.
I’ve never seen so much open space built into a building.
In Verdanthia, space is a luxury we can’t afford. The beasts in the Forbidden Forest keep us penned in, claws and fangs ensuring our town can never spread beyond the tree line.
Every inch of land is used. Every structure pressed close. Only those who need ground to grow food or cultivate herbs are granted yards at all.
And even then, none of it truly belongs to us.
The Elders can confiscate land at a moment’s notice. I suppose General Ironheart holds that power now.
The mayor and his wife turn right, guiding us into a chamber with a soaring ceiling. Above, a painting of a golden sky stretches wide, clouds brushed in soft shades of pink. Slender pillars rise to support the artwork.
The rest of the room is bare, save for two broad chairs positioned at the far end.
The mayor and his wife move with practiced grace, lowering themselves onto dark-green cushions.
Rian stops six feet away. Draven and Silas post up on either side of him. Darius and I, once again, stay a step behind.
“Well,” Helen drawls, crossing one leg over the other, resting her manicured hands on her lap. Her voice is just as airy and light as her husband's. “What brings the infamous Shadow Prince to our shores?”
“Our ship was attacked by a Pelagor,” Silas answers without ceremony, once again assuming his role as our group’s spokesperson.
“A Pelagor?” Augustus’s brows rise. “Mother, save you… It’s a miracle you survived.”
“Yes, Mayor.” Silas inclines his head. “While we regret intruding on your land, our vessel requires repairs. We wish to commission a ship and crew to return us to the wreck with the materials needed to make her sea-worthy again.”
Augustus hums, leaning back in his chair to rest an ankle over his knee. “And what is the Shadow Heir doing so far south? Last I heard, your uncle has big plans for you in the coming months.”
The shadows along Rian’s back writhe. “Your spies are misinformed.”
“Are they?” Augustus’s eyes gleam.
“Yes.”
The mayor’s mouth curves in a slow grin as his gaze slides past Rian, locking onto me.
“I heard there was a mishap in Verdanthia,” he says mildly. “Tell me, is that where your companion hails from?”
My pulse stutters at the sound of my home. Former home. I remain frozen, unsure whether to answer, when Silas speaks.
“It is.”
“Hm.” Augustus continues to study me, unblinking. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Does he know about the coup?
Is he aware that the army has overtaken the Elders and now runs Verdanthia?
I count the days since I left.
It’s been less than a week.
Could word truly have traveled so far, so fast?
Above us, the cloud of shadow thickens, its hue darkening, a silent display of Rian’s displeasure.
Helen clears her throat.
“You arrive at an auspicious time, Prince Zylen,” she says, her eyes sharp. “Our son’s wedding celebration takes place at the end of this very week.”
The cloud above flickers.
“Congratulations.” Rian’s voice chills the air.
As if summoned, footsteps echo through the near-empty chamber. A young man steps into view. He’s tall and slender, and his features are unmistakably similar to Helen’s.
He comes to her side, resting a hand on her shoulder.
The man isn’t sculpted like the Fae males before me, but he’s attractive in the way everyone in Virendrell seems to be.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Helen replies. “We are very happy for our Jason and his beloved.”
She turns her head toward the young man, and the sharp tip of her ear catches the light.
I barely suppress my gasp.
Helen is Fae.
But…she looks human.
It dawns on me that I’ve never seen a female Fae before. The only Fae I’ve encountered are Shadow Fae or the massive brutes in Port City. For all I know, they’re the anomalies, and the rest of the Fae race could look as unassuming as the female in front of me.
“I’m sure you are,” Rian says. “And while we would love to eat and drink and make merry in honor of your son, my cadre and I must be on our way. What is your response to our request for aid?”
“Way to where?” Augustus asks, ignoring the question entirely.
Rian’s shadows curl.
“With all due respect,” he says, not sounding respectful in the slightest, “that is not your concern.”
“Unfortunately,” Augustus’s eyes flash, “the moment you stepped foot in my city, you made it my concern. I do not wish to incur the wrath of King Marek.”
“The king does not know where I am.”
Triumph glints in the mayor’s gaze. “Is that so?”
“It is,” he replies, darkness curling around the words. “And I trust not a whisper of my presence will leave these shores. Or else my shadows will go hunting.”
Helen’s back straightens, and a buzz of unexpected power zips through the air over our heads. “You dare threaten us? In our own home?”
My fingertips dig into Darius’s arm. His hand presses on mine.
“It is not a threat,” Rian says.
My shoulders sag, only for them to snap tight at his next words.
“It is a promise.”
Velmira, save me. Can this male not antagonize people?
Jason scowls and steps forward, but his mother grabs his hand to hold him back.
Augustus tsks, still lounging in his chair. Though, the muscles in his jaw tic.
“Careful, Prince. Some might consider hiding your location from the king a treasonous act.”
“Some people can kiss my ass.”
I gasp at the disrespect and choke as a shadow tears free from the roiling cloud overhead.
It streaks across the chamber like a bolt of lightning and strikes a man I didn’t know was there.
Not until his body tumbles from the alcove where he’d been hiding and crashes onto the floor with a sickening thud.
I stand frozen, staring at the unmoving form, my limbs numb, my blood gone cold.
Where in the hells did he come from?