6. Chapter 6
Chapter six
I thought the news that other realms existed would break me. Then I thought hearing that I had a living father would break me. Nope. It was the damned diamonds that did it. I took in every single inch of that glittering courtyard and just… laughed.
It started small at first. Just a giggle that grew to a chuckle. Then I could feel it—this writhing creature crawling up from the pit of my stomach, like a dragon that had been awoken by the presence of shiny jewels. My laughter morphed and twisted into something terrifying, but I couldn’t hold it back.
Maybe I had been too quick to dismiss Dey's earlier notion that my people were prone to bouts of hysteria and mania because I was pretty sure this is what mania felt like.
I don’t know how long I stayed there like that—howling like a grazed goblin. It could have been a minute or an hour. Eventually, though, I resumed some tiny semblance of control and was able to look up at Dey, who appeared to be debating with himself over helping me or fleeing in terror.
Between lingering sobs and giggles, I asked, “Are you telling me that while I was in the real world making shitty fast food tacos and wondering if I was going to make enough money to keep a roof over my head, my father was living in a damn palace made of diamonds?”
Dey edged slightly away from me. “I… um… well, that is to say…”
I had to admit, flustered was a good look on him. “It’s okay, Dey. Seriously. Just breathe. I’m not gonna go feral on your ass or anything.”
I’m not sure my words helped as much as I intended because he took another small step backward, and his right hand shifted toward his rear as if he genuinely thought it might need protection.
I snorted. “Maybe we should just go inside.” I paused. “Unless… It doesn’t get worse inside, does it? Please don’t tell me my father has some tacky diamond throne.”
Dey chuckled softly. “I will not tell him you said that.”
“So that's a yes,” I groaned. “Well let’s get it over with. I doubt it’s getting less tacky as we stand here.”
Dey’s shoulders shot back as he straightened, clearly relieved to be back on task, and he gestured toward a wooden door at the back of the courtyard.
“This way, Princess.”
Dey led me down a long corridor with hallways on each side interspersed with doors featuring ornate diamond knobs. While the exterior of the castle was primarily diamond-rich gray stone, the interior walls were more beige in color, making the entire palace feel light and bright. The bricks that comprised these high-ceilinged walkways were infused with fewer diamonds, but there was no ignoring the occasional glittering vein that ran through the off-white stone.
The ceiling opened up above me as the corridor came to an end, and I found myself in a sweeping antechamber. Two massive ebony stone doors took up the majority of the back wall, flanked on either side by guards dressed in burgundy tunics boasting a Celtic-looking symbol on the chest. A flicker of light caught my eye, and I glanced up to the ceiling.
All forward momentum halted. My feet might as well have been in quicksand for how strongly I was immobilized by the beauty above me.
Swirling hues of black, purple and dark blue decorated the ceiling perhaps thirty feet above my head. Thousands of tiny diamond stars were embedded throughout that midnight mural, luminous and twinkling like celestial fireflies guiding the way to the heavens. Many were arranged purposefully to form constellations, and though I didn’t recognize any of them, they somehow felt familiar.
A hand grazed my shoulder, but I couldn’t tear my attention from the stars. Outside the diamonds were abrasive and intrusive, but here they were mesmerizing. They were the very definition of breathtaking. They were… magic.
I wanted nothing more than to let all my worries drift away so I could embrace the perfect serenity of this stardust sea.
“Rain?” Dey prompted, and I crashed painfully back into reality.
“Sorry. I, uh, got a little distracted,” I replied, giving him a rueful look.
“There is no need to apologize. It is quite magnificent. Your mother was actually the one to commission it during her brief time in the palace. Now, if you would wait here, I need to alert the king before I bring you in to see him. He will likely need time to compose himself before receiving you.”
Dey left me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room while he spoke with the guards. They gave him a curt nod and pushed the heavy doors open just wide enough for him to slip through.
I spent a few more minutes examining the enchanting ceiling before the crick in my neck brought me back to reality.
Reality, however, was an otherwise empty room with two males regarding me with a mixture of awe and confusion.
“Hey,” I greeted, strolling over to them. “I’m Rain. I was hoping to—”
Before I could finish my sentence, they both moved in unison, dropping to one knee and crossing an arm over their chest.
“Princepa,” they intoned, bowing their heads to me deferentially.
Well, that was a far cry from the greetings I got in Jersey which usually consisted of leers from guys and sneers from girls. I glanced down at my attire. Yeah, I was still me. Old and dirty Converse, tattered blue hoodie around my waist, torn jean shorts and a black Linkin Park tank top.
“You don’t have to do that,” I insisted, waving a hand near the face of the guard closest to me.
He remained kneeling, his brow furrowed, as he asked, “Nesto auxum?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by their response. Just because Dey spoke to me in English didn’t mean that everyone here could.
I was contemplating whether or not charades would be even remotely effective when there was a loud rap on the stone door.
The guards leapt to their feet. Bracing their palms against the huge slabs of stone, they began to push.
Inch by inch, the room beyond gradually opened up to me, each creak of hinges plucking my tightly wound heartstrings.
I took in a deep inhale, feeling like I was passing some point of no return, and entered the throne room.
When I was eleven years old, my class went on a field trip to visit the historical Lyndhurst Mansion in New York. Lyndhurst was not technically a castle, but it sure looked like one to me at the time. High ceilings, elaborate chandeliers, green velvet settees and the most beautiful set of arched windows with intricate etchings in the glass. My young mind could imagine nothing finer, nothing more fantastical than Lyndhurst.
And my father’s throne room made it look like a damned bouncy castle in comparison.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes rested on me as I stepped tentatively into the expansive hall, and I tried to focus more on the room and less on the oppressive feeling of being judged.
A row of exquisite diamond chandeliers hung from the exposed wooden beams of an arched ceiling, and a gentle tinkling sound flitted down as the crystals swayed in an invisible breeze. A long stretch of burgundy velvet carpet sat atop white marble flooring, running through the middle of the room from the entryway to a raised platform at the back. Seven tall windows loomed over the curved dais, casting rays of light onto the glittering diamond throne. The effect was stunning, as if the very light of heaven fell approvingly upon the ruler of this place. From my distance, I could faintly make out broad shoulders, dark hair and a diamond crown atop his head.
I wanted to move closer to see if his face was kind or cruel, but my body denied the request. I hadn’t made it ten steps, but my feet were determined that we would go no further.
As I stood there locked in place, whispers began to filter over to me. Only a few at first, then more and more the longer I remained immobile. Spacious upper balconies lined each side of the massive hall, filled to the brim with people dressed in the finest clothing that appeared straight out of the books of Tolkien, while even more stood below the balconies in small crowds. Hundreds, maybe a thousand, all staring at me, their faces wrinkling in disdain. I had no idea what they wanted from me, but when a small snicker broke through the quiet, I decided that I wasn’t going to stick around and find out.
My feet that refused to move forward had no issues reversing. I took one step backward, then another before spinning around and dashing for the door.
Shocked gasps rang out behind me as a strong male voice bellowed, “Raynella!”
I didn’t stop. I flew back to the stone doors and flung my full body weight against them, hoping they would crack just enough to let me slip through. Pounding as hard as I could, I screamed to the guards on the other side, “Open the door!”
A hand landed on my shoulder, but I didn’t dare glance back to see who it belonged to. If I did, I would see them . See them laughing and sneering and judging me.
“Rain! Rain, look at me!”
Someone was shaking my arm, but it wasn’t until they forced themself in front of me that recognition hit.
“Please,” I begged Dey. “Take it away.”
He studied my face, and I saw that hint of uncertainty and concern like he wanted to help me but didn’t understand what was happening. I’d seen that look on so many faces, so many times. The confusion that said my response to a very normal situation was anything but.
“Take what away, Rain?”
I clutched his tunic in my hands, pulling him closer to me, wanting him to feel my pounding heartbeat, to understand that my lungs ached for oxygen I couldn’t give them.
“All of it. Take it all away. I know I was upset before, I know I said never again, but it's too much. Please. Just take it away.”
Clarity rolled over his face, and a wave of peaceful calm swept through my body as Dey gingerly lowered me to the floor of the throne room. My vision narrowed, blackness creeping in around the edges, and fatigue pressed down like a warm, heavy blanket.
A shadow rolled over my body, and I took in a new masculine face staring down at me. As I fully succumbed to the weight of exhaustion, a single thought ran through me.
We have the same eyes .