Chapter 14
Niamh
It had been surprisingly easy to find the high prince’s quarters.
I still felt an uneasiness every time I descended the stairs of my tower, wondering if I’d be able to find my way back.
But I’d never get to know the castle if I locked myself inside, and it was time to have a chat with Cillian about . . . well, everything.
I entered a long hallway covered in navy blue wallpaper with wispy white swirls, waiting for the corridor to shift, for a door to disappear or appear, or for the floor to just drop out from under me.
Instead, I walked to the end of the corridor and came to a bridge that I walked across.
Then I entered a new hallway, this one with maroon wallpaper.
It was all so bland and normal that I almost forgot it was a magical castle.
Until I came to a set of double doors with the stone gargoyles on either side and a pair of eyeballs in the door that made me shriek.
One of the gargoyles stuck a finger in his ear. “That hurt, you know.”
“Oh, please, Barty. You shriek louder than that every time you see a spider,” the other gargoyle said.
“Do not!”
“Do too.”
“Do not!”
I watched them in fascination. “Aren’t you two the same gargoyles from outside?” They froze, slowly turning to stare at me like they’d forgotten I was there. “I thought you couldn’t move?” I asked, poking the one on the left in the stomach. “Solid stone,” I mused. “That has to be heavy.”
“Excuse you!” The gargoyle spread out its wings. “Do I go around poking you in the stomach?”
My face flushed. “Oh, sorry. That was inconsiderate of me.”
“Yes it was. And we’re very fit for gargoyles.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t criticizing—”
“Did you just call my brother heavy?” the gargoyle on the right asked.
“No.” I paused. “Well, yes. But stone is heavy, technically.”
The gargoyle on the left—Tal, I believed?—broke out in sobs.
“Look what you did now,” the other gargoyle said, reaching out a hand to pat his brother. “There, there, Tal.”
Tal wailed. “She really hurt my feelings. Just because we’re stone doesn’t mean we’re so heavy we can’t move. We move just fine every time the prince is in his chambers.”
“Humans can be so rude,” Barty said.
“Um, I’m just going to . . .” I slid between them and closer to the door. The eyeballs narrowed to slits, studying me.
I reached out to knock, hesitating before finally rapping my knuckles sharply on the door. To my surprise, they swung open immediately, and I stepped into a room three times the size of mine. It was the most exquisite place I’d ever seen.
Red roses covered the back wall, giving the room a sweet flowery scent and matching the heavy cover on the bed and the long drapes swept back over the floor-to-ceiling windows. I walked across the shining black stone floor that looked like the twinkling night sky, so glossy and glittering.
My gaze drew upward to the vaulted ceiling, gilded in gold and painted with lush roses with shimmering gold accents on the leaves.
I was afraid to even touch anything in this room.
My gaze swung to a painting of Cillian as tall as me hanging on the wall.
It was incredibly accurate, capturing his dark wavy hair, his strong chin and high cheekbones, and those dazzling blue eyes.
He and Wolfe didn’t share many similarities.
Cillian was tall and lean, whereas Wolfe was like a mountain.
They did have the same shade of brown hair, the same pale skin, but where Cillian’s eyes were a bright blue, Wolfe’s were dark, reminding me of the rings of a tree, haloed in different shades of brown, hiding so many secrets about the tree’s life.
Cillian was clean-shaven, while Wolfe sported a beard.
I studied Cillian’s hair, which was always perfectly styled and framing his face, unlike Wolfe, whose hair was a mop of tousled strands on his head.
“I know I’m handsome, but you’re going to have to stop staring,” Cillian said from where he leaned against a doorway that led to a lavish bath chamber, and I realized I was staring at the painting.
He strolled toward me, pointing at the portrait.
“Believe it or not, I was actually having an off day with my hair.”
I wanted to ask what products he used to get it so perfectly coiffed, but then I reminded myself that I was still mad at him.
Tal let out another loud wail, and Barty still had his hand on his brother’s arm, comforting him.
Cillian looked between me and the gargoyles. “What happened to them?”
“Nothing, really. I just accidentally insulted Tal, and now his brother is trying to make him feel better. Also, I think they might both hate me.”
“Wow.” Cillian strode to the doors and closed them, then turned. “You’ve done the impossible.”
“What?” Sweat broke out over my upper lip.
“You got them to stop bickering. Amazing.” He shot me a smile and gestured toward a round table with two chairs that sat by the windows. “Ready to forgive me?”
We sat, and I looked out the windows at the town far below and the rolling green hills spread out behind it. I couldn’t see Wolfe’s cabin from here, so we must’ve been on the opposite side of the castle.
“I am.” I raised my chin. “But only thanks to your brother.”
He frowned. “Nevan?”
I shook my head.
His eyes widened. “Wolfe? Wolfe told you to forgive me?”
He lifted a glass carafe and poured us both water, then took a drink from his cup.
“Yes, when I visited his cabin.”
He spit out his water, spraying the window. He banged on his chest, and I reached out, but he shook his head.
“I’m okay,” he rasped, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his black tunic. “I’m sorry, but did you say you were at Wolfe’s cabin today?”
This was getting weird. “Yes, I saw it from the window of the castle and decided to visit.”
“And he didn’t immediately yell at you to get off his lawn?”
I blinked.
“He does that sometimes,” Cillian said. “Actually all the time. He doesn’t welcome visitors. I stopped trying a long time ago.”
“Well.” I bobbed my head back and forth. “I might’ve refused to leave and refused to stop talking until he listened and actually answered some of my questions.”
Cillian’s mouth dropped open, and he snapped it shut. “That’s . . . well, that’s interesting.”
There was a gleam to his eyes I didn’t understand. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me no one visits Wolfe? He’s really that much of a recluse?”
Cillian took another sip of his water. “Have you met my brother?”
“Well, yes.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know he’s grumpy and stubborn and quiet, but I didn’t realize he was that bad.”
“Oh, he’s that bad,” Cillian said. “But you must have made quite an impression on him.” There was that odd gleam again, his blue eyes sparking.
My cheeks flushed, but I wasn’t sure why. I shifted in my seat. “Well, either way, I’m here, and I’m ready to talk.”
“That’s good.” Cillian steepled his hands together. “Seeing as we’re going to be married and everything, we probably should talk.”
I raised a brow. “We might be married. I haven’t accepted yet.”
He waved a hand. “Technicality.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, remembering Margaret’s words about him and Ceri. “Are you in love with your best friend?” I blurted out. So much for being subtle.
Cillian’s eyebrows shot up. “Ceri?”
My hands twisted together under the table as I nodded.
Cillian burst out laughing. “No. She’s practically my sister. I’ve known her since we were born.” He said the words so casually, but I noticed the way he didn’t fully meet my gaze as he spoke.
Still, relief spread through me. “Oh. Well, that’s good.”
Cillian ran a hand through his hair. “But you should know . . . I have a bit of a reputation.”
“Oh, I’ve heard.” I flashed him a sweet smile.
“Perfect,” he said through a strained smile.
I waved my hand. “I don’t care about your past, and this is an arranged marriage. I don’t expect love or anything.”
Cillian’s shoulders slumped, and I’d never seen a man look so relieved in my life. “You’re lovely,” he said quickly. “And a pleasure to talk to, but I don’t know that I’m the ‘falling in love’ kind of guy.”
“It’s really okay,” I felt my own sense of relief at his admission, which was odd. I should’ve wanted my future husband to love me. “Okay,” I said.
His eyebrows shot up. “Okay? You’ll do it? You’ll be my queen if the castle accepts you?”
Now that Wolfe had agreed to train me, I felt more emboldened. Like maybe I could do this. Maybe I could stop being seen as this fragile, weak woman. Maybe I could stop feeling that way about myself. “Yes,” I said.
He peered at me curiously. “Why was this so easy? My other potential brides did not take that news as well.”
“I guess it’s just a relief to know I’ll be safe, protected.”
He nodded, putting his hand over mine. “We’ll keep you safe, Niamh. Always.”
I blew out a breath. The hard part of this conversation was over.
“What am I supposed to do here all day every day? Just wander around and hope the castle takes a liking to me?” My gaze flicked to the golden key on his neck.
“What did your other . . . potential brides do? And how many of them have there been?”
He shoved a hand through his hair, and somehow it fell right back into place. Truly amazing. “Four,” he said, voice tight for the first time since I’d met him.
Four other women who’d been here with the hope they might be queen. I tried to stay positive, but hopelessness splintered through like weeds. “What’s going to make me any different?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “The prophecy. It said I had to find the woman in the tower. Do you know of any other towers with women trapped in them? It can’t be a coincidence.
The other women were all ones that seemed like good candidates for queen.
Women from other kingdoms I sought out and invited.
We kept them blindfolded so they had no idea where we were going.
When the castle didn’t accept them, they were able to go back to their lives.
” He shrugged. “It didn’t really affect them like it might you.
But I’m telling you, this time is different. You were brought here for a reason.”
“I hope so.” A rose petal fell from the wall, and a broom shimmied over to wipe it into a dustpan. Another petal grew in its place, unfurling. “Oh! A magical broom.”
I hopped up and ran across the room, reaching out when Cillian yelled, “Don’t touch that!”
My hand froze.
“Broom doesn’t like being grabbed. It’s been known to swat anyone who touches it.”
I withdrew my hand. “Well, that’s too bad. I could really use it.”
Cillian frowned, still sitting at the table. “Is your room dirty?”
“No, I found a library, but it’s a complete mess. So much dust and dirt and debris everywhere, and don’t even get me started on the bookshelves. It’s a complete travesty. Truly.”
Cillian stared at me.
“What?” I raised my hand to my cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”
“You found our library? It’s been missing for seven years.”
“Well, I didn’t really find it. The castle kind of pushed me into it. It was actually really scary. I found a talking painting.” I shrugged.
He stood and raced to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Niamh, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re meant to be here. I just know it.”
“Because I found a dirty old library?”
“You don’t understand.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wolfe told me about the disappearing rooms.”
“We’re going to have an in-depth conversation later about how you’re getting my brother to tell you things, but it’s not just that the rooms are disappearing.
It’s that we haven’t found any of the disappearing rooms. Not a single one.
They vanish, leaving behind a wall or stairway that leads nowhere.
Not to mention that without our library we’ve been essentially cut off from information and learning.
There are thousands of books there with valuable history and information about the castle that could help us understand what’s happening now.
The fact that you found the library means something. I’m sure of it.”
I worried at my bottom lip. “Maybe that’s what I can do?” I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. “I can clean it up and be the librarian for a bit. I know books so well, and Morton would be ecstatic to eat all those books.”
Cillian frowned.
“Just until I’m queen!” My heart sank at the thought of becoming queen and having to leave the library, which was silly, given I’d just found it. It might’ve been messy and dirty, but it had felt like home.
“The queen can’t exactly be a librarian, but . . . sure, you can fix it up and then find your own replacement. Our last librarian died shortly after the library disappeared.” He held up his hands. “Not related, I promise. She was really old.”
“Do you happen to know where any cleaning supplies are? That was the one thing Wolfe couldn’t tell me. Unless you think the library might clean itself?”
Cillian scratched his head. “I’ve never seen the castle clean itself.
” He gestured to the broom, now sweeping up some dust in the corner of the room.
“Some items become magical and work themselves, but others don’t.
” He shrugged. “I like to the think the castle does this so that we still need to hire people, give them jobs.”
An awkward silence fell over us.
“So dinner tonight?” Cillian asked.
Suddenly, I felt tired. All the activities of the day had made me want to snuggle in bed with a book.
Plus, I had training with Wolfe tomorrow.
I was about to mention it but stopped myself before Cillian’s head exploded.
I’d told him enough surprising things about his brother for one day. This could wait.
“Maybe we could do dinner tomorrow? Or the day after? I’m feeling tired.”
“Huh.” He clucked his tongue. “Not every day a woman rejects me.”
“I didn’t reject you.” I swatted him, and he laughed.
“All right, Niamh Merridon.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Dinner soon.”