20. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
T he night is bleak and endless as we fly over the vast black expanse of the Untold Sea. The rain lashes at us, cold and unforgiving, the wind howling through Daed’s wings as he cuts through the storm. Beneath us, the waves churn violently, an endless, merciless dance of fury that makes me feel small and alone out here, far from the shore, far from anything but him. His arms are strong and steady as they hold me close, shielding me from the worst of the storm, and though I should be afraid, I find myself sinking into the warmth of his embrace.
I glance up at Daed’s face, watching the way the rain clings to his sharp features, the soft glow of his eyes that never waver, even as the storm batters us from every direction. His gaze shifts to me, and in that moment, the world falls away. My breath catches in my throat as I hold his gaze, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it might break free and reach for him. But I stay silent, torn between the storm outside and the one brewing between us.
As we push further across the endless stretch of black water, the storm intensifies. It’s as if the sky itself is unraveling, the clouds thickening into a dark, swirling vortex that looms ahead, waiting to swallow us whole. Jagged forks of lightning crack across the heavens, illuminating the angry sky in bursts of white and purple, their light reflecting off the ocean’s roiling surface. The wind howls in wild fury, lashing at us as if trying to force us back, but Daed presses on, his wings straining against the storm’s relentless pull.
Ahead, the storm’s heart churns in a violent spiral, its clouds twisting into a massive wall of darkness, as if the very ocean has risen to meet the sky. The storm pulses, almost alive, its thunderous roar shaking the air around us, daring us to cross its threshold. And at its core—though I can barely see it—there’s a glimpse of something strange and beautiful. An island, shrouded in mist and bathed in an ethereal light, sits quietly within the eye of the storm, as if untouched by the chaos that surrounds it.
But between us and that sanctuary lies a tempest like no other, its winds howling with enough force to tear apart the strongest ships. Waves rise and crash against each other, the sea itself buckling and thrashing beneath the storm’s wrath. The clouds above swirl faster, converging into a single, monstrous cyclone that guards the island fiercely, as if no one should reach it without proving their worth. The closer we get, the more the air hums with energy, and I feel the charge of it crawling over my skin.
“We’re almost there,” Daed says, his voice steady despite the storm raging around us. He grips me tighter, his wings adjusting for the sudden gusts of wind that slam into us like fists.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch glimpses of Orios and Solena, fighting their own battle against the storm. Orios soars just ahead, his wings thrashing against the gale, his face set in a grim mask of focus. Solena flies beside him, her small frame barely visible in the sheets of rain, but her wings cut through the storm with surprising grace. They, too, are struggling, the wind pushing them off course every now and then, but they never falter. They are just as determined, just as relentless, to reach Pariseth.
A sudden gust of wind hits us, stronger than before, and Daed’s body jerks violently. My grip slips, and for one horrifying second, I feel myself sliding out of his arms, the storm ready to claim me. Panic seizes my chest as I gasp, my fingers scrambling for purchase, but Daed’s grip tightens instantly, his arms locking around me like iron. His wings beat harder, his face strained with the effort of keeping us in the air.
“I’ve got you,” he mutters, voice rough with effort, and I can feel the truth of it in his hold. Even with the storm raging, even with the odds against us, he won’t let me fall.
But it’s taking its toll. I can see it in the lines of his face, the tension in his jaw. His wings are trembling now, fighting every inch of the way, and I know we’re running out of time. The storm is relentless, but so is Daed—and in the distance, Pariseth gleams brighter, calling to us like a promise, a sanctuary hidden within this nightmare.
Daed grits his teeth, and with one final push against the spiral of rain and wind, we break through the storm wall with a violent thrust, like bursting from the depths of the sea into air. Daed’s wings fold tight around us, and we plummet toward the ground. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the impact, and a moment later, we crash into the earth with bone-rattling force. The air is knocked from my lungs as we tumble, Daed still holding me tight against his chest, cushioning the fall.
For a long moment, I don’t move. My chest heaves, each breath ragged as I fight to fill my lungs. The roar of the storm still echoes in my ears, but it’s distant now, a memory of violence that feels so far away from where we are. Slowly my eyes open to find Daed gazing at me, the two of us cradled within the darkness of his wings.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
I nod. “Did we make it? Are we in Pariseth?”
Daed’s wings slowly unfurl, and I roll away, collapsing onto my back beside him. I’m reminded of the serpentine vine in my arms, and my eyes shoot down to check on her. Thank the Souls, she’s survived too. My body feels heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the lingering tension from the flight. My heart still races, my fingers trembling as they splay against the ground, searching for something solid to remind me we made it.
I hear Orios groan somewhere to my left and Solena’s soft gasps come from somewhere beyond him, and for a moment, we are all just there—four bodies sprawled in the aftermath of survival, too tired to speak, too grateful for the solid earth beneath us to do anything but breathe.
And then, slowly, I feel it. The warmth. The soft touch of sunlight kissing my skin, gentle and unexpected. I blink against the sudden brightness, raise my head and realize… the early morning sun is shining.
I sit up, disbelief flooding through me as I look around. The storm, that relentless fury we battled moments ago, is still howling beyond the edge of this island, a wall of darkness circling the horizon. But here, inside the eye, everything is calm. The sky is a soft, brilliant blue, with the sun sitting high above us, its rays pouring down over the land like a blessing. It’s warm, the kind of warmth I haven’t felt in so long.
I’m lying on the softest, most vibrant green grass I’ve ever seen. It cradles me like a bed, lush and thick beneath my fingers. Flowers, bright and colorful, dot the landscape around us, their petals glistening with dew. The air smells sweet, fresh, and alive, completely different from the salt and damp of the sea.
I push myself to my feet and look up. In the distance, beyond the field of flowers and trees, a castle emerges. It rises from the earth with quiet majesty, its pale stone towers reaching toward the sky, gleaming in the sunlight like a beacon.
A river meanders alongside it, clear and sparkling as it winds through the land. Its gentle murmur fills the air, soft and soothing—a serene melody that’s a world away from the violent crash of the waves we left behind.
I glance back at Daed, still lying on the grass, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. His eyes are half-closed, but there’s a peace in his expression, a rare softness that I rarely see. When his gaze finally meets mine, there’s a flicker of surprise there, as if he, too, is stunned by the sudden shift from chaos to serenity.
“We made it,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone. The words seem too small to encompass the relief, the awe, of where we are now. But they’re all I have.
Daed’s lips curve into a tired smile, and he nods, his voice low and rough as he murmurs, “Yes. We did.”
I arch a brow as I look at him splayed across the grass. “You look so pale in the sunlight.”
Solena releases a giggle, but quickly clamps her hand over her mouth to silence it.
Daed exhales deeply, dragging himself to his feet and shaking off the remnants of damp grass that cling to his soaked trousers. “Sorry to disappoint you, wife,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. He turns his head toward the castle, his eyes narrowing as he assesses the distance. “Among my shortfalls, I’m also in need of dry clothes.”
With a soft grunt, he arches his back, the movement emphasizing the strength that lies beneath his wet clothes. As he rotates his shoulders, his magnificent wings unfurl with a graceful snap, the feathers trembling as they shake loose the excess water. A few droplets glisten in the sunlight, catching the light like tiny jewels as they fall to the ground. The sight is both awe-inspiring and strangely intimate, and I can't help but feel a flutter of warmth at the sheer beauty of him.
“Come,” he says, holding his hand out to me. “We will fly to the castle.”
I take a step back, and he arches a curious brow at me.
“We must walk ,” I say, as if it’s obviously the wisest decision. “I have had nothing but rain and rock for so long. I’m not about to throw away the opportunity to feel the grass beneath my feet.”
I balance on one leg, hopping in place as I yank off my waterlogged boot and hurl it across the field. The Fae stare at me, bewildered, as I do the same with the other. The moment my bare toes crunch against the grass, a wave of dizzying bliss washes over me, and I can't help but throw my head back and laugh, earning concerned frowns from my companions.
“Your Highness,” Orios coughs, drawing Daed’s attention. “We are to... walk?” His voice lingers on the last word, as if it were some strange concept beyond comprehension.
Daed watches me twist into the dirt, giggling as I wriggle my toes into the earth. A grin threatens to pull at the corners of his mouth, even as he tries to suppress it. “Yes. We walk.”
Orios rubs at the point of his ear, the very idea seeming so utterly foreign that I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head. To show him, I take my first step, my heart soaring with every movement. I begin to walk, humming a carefree tune with a smile plastered across my face. Each stride through the grass feels like a joyous dance, the blades swishing against my skin, sending shivers of delight up my spine. The sun kisses my cheeks, and the world around me brightens with every step I take.
Eventually, the skeptical Fae follow as we make for the castle in the distance, and I watch Daed closely. His brow is furrowed, lips pressed in a tight line as he looks down at the ground. He’s not used to this—walking instead of flying.
“Take off your boots,” I say, nudging him with a playful smile.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unamused, but I can see the curiosity flickering in his eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
“I have never been more serious. Walk with me like this. Feel the grass.”
He hesitates for a moment, glancing around, as if expecting someone to see this un-princely behavior. But then, with a deep sigh, Daed pulls off his boots, one at a time. The moment his bare feet touch the grass, he freezes. His expression shifts, from wary to surprised, and then something softer. He flexes his toes against the ground, feeling the softness of the earth, the warmth of the sun-soaked grass.
“This is... strange,” he mutters.
“It’s good, you’ll get used to it,” I insist, taking his hand in mine and tugging him forward gently. “Just walk.”
And so we do, side by side, feeling the grass, the sun on our faces. The storm that rages beyond the island feels like a distant memory now, something left behind in the world we’ve escaped from. I feel Daed’s gaze for a long moment, and even when the hardness returns to his eyes, something in him has shifted.
As we near the castle, its grandeur becomes clearer, and it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Nothing like the dark, imposing Baev'kalath with its endless shadows and gothic spires. This place... it breathes with light. Its stone is bleached pale, almost white, glowing softly in the sunlight that bathes every corner of the island. Tall, open windows stretch along the walls, letting the light pour in from every direction. There are no heavy curtains or iron bars, just vast expanses of glass that reflect the blue sky and the golden fields.
The castle itself feels open, alive in a way that Baev'kalath never could. Where Daed’s home is steeped in rain and cold, always surrounded by the howling wind and the weight of a dark history, this place is the opposite.
It feels like it was made to embrace the warmth, the light, the world around it.
Flowers climb along the walls, bright and colorful, weaving between the stones as if they’ve always belonged here. Sunlight bounces off everything—the white stone, the wide pathways, the golden banners that flap softly in the gentle breeze.
As soon as we enter the castle, my eyes catch the grand staircase that winds its way upward in a graceful spiral, the banister carved from smooth, pale wood, glowing softly in the afternoon sun. Without waiting, I rush toward the staircase, my bare feet barely making a sound on the polished wood. I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips as I take the steps two at a time, the wide spiral carrying me higher, higher, until I reach the landing at the top.
I turn the corner and burst into a bedroom, gasping at the sight. The grand chambers sprawl out before me, bathed in light that pours in through the open balcony. It’s massive, with high ceilings and soft, white walls. The bed is enormous, its canopy draped in pale, sheer curtains that flutter in the gentle breeze coming from outside. The linens are the color of cream, soft and inviting, and the whole room smells faintly of fresh flowers.
I find the perfect spot by the window for my vine, then I can’t help but run to the balcony, the breeze lifting my hair as I step outside. From here, the view is breathtaking—the island stretching out below us in vibrant greens and golds, the rivers glistening like diamonds, and beyond, I see a small forest that I’m curious to explore. The storm is still a distant threat, but here, within the eye, everything is calm, peaceful.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm my face, listening to the grass below swaying gently in the breeze.
Behind me, I hear Daed enter the room, his presence unmistakable. I turn to find him standing in the doorway, watching me with that same intense gaze, his arms crossed over his chest. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The sunlight plays across his face, softening his sharp features.
“You look… comfortable,” he says quietly, his voice low.
“And you’ve already got some color in your cheeks,” I reply with a grin.
“It’s because you made me walk for hours. In the sun. In wet leather,” he says, dipping his head for emphasis.
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t hours.” I try not to cast my eyes over the leather clinging to his thighs, but I’m not sure I do well. “Besides. I doubt I could make the Prince of the Sundered Kingdoms do anything he did not want to do.”
“I think it would surprise you what you could make the Prince of the Sundered Kingdoms do, wife.”
Daed dips his chin and strides towards me, his gaze so intrusive I turn my back to him and stare blankly over the balcony. I hear his steps across the floor and my skin prickles at the thought of what may come next. But I am also finally at peace, and I do not want Daed’s fickle interest in me to ruin this meager happiness.
In the distance, I catch a glimpse of Solena and Orios walking together in the gardens below, and it provides a timely distraction. That is until I realize Daed is not aware of their relationship as I am.
When I glance at him over my shoulder, his eyes are narrowed on the pair, watching as their hands brush.
“If we were in Baev’kalath, he would be stripped of his Reaper armor,” Daed states, a distaste on his tongue.
I gulp, realizing my promises to Solena mean nothing if Daed punishes Orios here and now.
“It is a ridiculous law,” I say tersely. “Allowing your greatest warriors a sliver of happiness does not make them less loyal or ferocious. Even when you took that honor from Arax, which was completely unnecessary, by the way, he still pledged his life to his house. To punish Orios and Solena would be one of the more heartless things you—”
Daed raises a hand, his eyebrow arched. “Take a breath, Amara. I said if we were in Baev’kalath, which we clearly are not, because I am not wearing any shoes.”
I glimpse his pale bare feet on the marble, and a laugh escapes me. “You could have put them back on.”
“I will,” Daed says defensively. “In good time.” He tips his chin to Orios and Solena. “The same with them. I cannot ignore the oaths he took, but I can overlook them for a moment.”
“Is all this sunlight having an effect on you?” I ask with a smile.
Daed says nothing. He would never admit that perhaps he likes it here, this world that is not so jagged and hard. He turns from the balcony, and when I glance over my shoulder at him, I catch the way his eyes trail over the room, taking it all in. Eventually, his gaze lands on the bed—a massive, inviting thing draped in those soft, fluttering curtains. I follow his gaze, and for a moment, the two of us are caught in a strange, unspoken pause.
The bed looms between us, both a symbol of what we are and what we aren’t. My heart beats a little faster, confusion knotting itself into my thoughts. I swallow hard and glance at him again. He’s still staring at the bed, but then his expression tightens, his shoulders stiffening.
“There are other rooms,” he says, his voice measured, as if he’s carefully choosing each word. “I’ll stay in one of them.”
I blink, his words crashing into me harder than I expected. For a moment, I don’t know how to react. My lips part, but no sound comes out. Instead, I look back at the bed, its empty vastness suddenly mocking me. A part of me that desires him hoped he wouldn’t say that—that maybe this place, with its warmth and light, would break through the wall between us.
But here we are, standing apart once again.
I force a smile and nod, hiding the twinge of disappointment that settles in my chest. “Of course,” I say lightly, my voice betraying none of the ache inside. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Daed watches me for a second longer, his brow furrowing as if he’s searching for something in my face. But he says nothing. He simply nods, turning slightly toward the door. There’s something guarded in his posture, a distance that only adds to the tangled mess of uncertainty between us.
I turn back to the balcony, biting the inside of my cheek as I look out over the island. The sun is still warm on my skin, but it feels less comforting now, the peace of the moment slipping away. I can’t make sense of him. One minute, he’s protective, possessive but also tender, and the next, he’s pulling away, keeping me at arm’s length. Does he care for me at all? Or am I just the wife he was forced to take?
I sigh softly, folding my arms over the balcony railing as the wind tugs at my hair. This place is beautiful—almost perfect. But right now, it feels like even in paradise, Daed and I are standing on opposite shores, an ocean of uncertainty and unspoken words between us.
Daed lingers by the door, his eyes roaming over the bright room before finally settling on me. “So, wife,” he says, his tone casual but his gaze sharp, “Pariseth is at your disposal. What do you want to do first?”
When my stomach grumbles softly, it becomes clear what I need most. “Well,” I start, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, “I’m starving.”
Daed tilts his head, a faint smile forming on his lips. “That can be fixed. Though, here in Pariseth, we gather our own food. There are some stores, of course, but for fresh fruit and vegetables, you'll find them in the gardens. Though I imagine they are overgrown, we have not been here for a while. Meat, however.” He pauses, his smirk turning into something more deliberate. “We’ll have to hunt in the woods.”
I cross my arms and shake my head. “No.”
His brow lifts. “No?”
“I don’t want you hunting while we’re here,” I say firmly. “If there’s fresh fruit and vegetables, that’s enough. I won’t have us killing anything.”
Daed’s lips press into a thin line, clearly weighing my demand. “No flying. No shoes and now… no meat?”
For a moment, I half expect him to argue or mock me, as he so often does. But instead, he studies me, his eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting my gaze again. “Very well,” he says, though there’s a trace of reluctance in his voice. “No hunting. We’ll make do with what the gardens provide.”
His agreement takes me slightly off guard, and I find myself staring at him, wondering why he’s so willing to give in. I nod slowly, though part of me is waiting for him to pull the rug out from under me.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he straightens and gestures toward the door. “Shall we head to the gardens, then? I imagine you’d like to see more of the island before we starve.”
There’s a trace of amusement in his voice, just enough to stir a smile from me as I step closer. “Yes,” I answer. Part of me wonders why things can’t always be this easy between us, while another, quieter part dares to imagine what might blossom if we had more time here in Pariseth without the weight of our worlds on our shoulders.