Chapter 11
NARYA
“We’re here.”
Daigen’s voice cut through my sleep, ripping me from the fragile drift I’d been in, swimming between dreams and exhaustion. After yet another long day of riding those two words were bliss to my ears.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked up at the blinding white sky.
The Sunstone side of Luthrin’s Gate swelled against the horizon.
Pale marble towers stood crowned in gold, scattering shards of light across polished helmets that moved along the wall like miniature suns.
The Sunstone guards patrolled silently, a stark contrast to the Moonstones, though their stoic expressions held no warmth for the Bloodstones.
The Sunstone captain hesitated at the gate. His amber eyes glinted from beneath a helm etched in solar runes. Even his armour seemed to catch and hold the light, as though it refused to let the sun go.
“We’re crossing.”
Daigen’s voice rang clear. It was all he said, and the captain stepped aside.
No hostility. No mocking. We passed through Luthrin’s Gate.
As we entered the first tunnel, the warm, golden light shifted to a cool wind that carried the taste of stone and iron on it. It felt less like passing a border and more like stepping through one realm into another.
Then the Bloodstone Bridge revealed itself, and my breath caught at the sight.
It stretched across the narrow strait where the west coast of the Sunstone Kingdom met the eastern cliffs of Bloodstone, a black arc suspended over the Veiled Sea.
On one side lay the sunlit expanse of the western horizon; on the other, a world swallowed by shadow and flame.
Waves hurled themselves against the stone supports, shattering into mist that caught the light like scattered embers.
At the far end, red banners snapped in the wind, flickering against the storm-grey sky.
Beyond them rose the Bloodstone Mountains—vast, jagged silhouettes that blotted out the sun.
We were almost there.
Although night hadn’t yet fallen, dark clouds were already gathering on the horizon. Daigen gave the signal and Shadowmane carried us towards them.
The Sunstone’s light faded behind us with each step, until the Bloodstone kingdom unfurled before us.
Black houses climbed along the mountain edges, trailing down to the city of Garnera where balconies draped with crimson banners overlooked winding cobblestone streets.
Dark red ivy curled along the walls, and window boxes spilled with night-blooming flowers that glowed faintly in the light.
Iron bridges arched over narrow lanes and glittering silver rivers, and smoke curled from chimneys into air that smelled of coal, rain, and sweet spices.
Somewhere in that city, a court waited to see if I would kneel for them, or bleed. As I looked down from the top of the hill, I vowed to do neither.
I would survive.
Even at dusk, the city glowed. Lanterns burned with silver fire, throwing ethereal light across statues carved from bloodstone and crystal fountains. The cobblestones pulsed faintly, as if the city was alive beneath our feet.
Garnera was beautiful. Gothic, enchanted, and utterly alive.
The contrast to the cold civility of the Moonstone capital was stark.
Ultherion’s people worshipped order. Daigen’s people worshipped him.
They lined the streets just to greet him, cloaked in thick furs and wool.
Even the children were cheering as they chased after the horses.
Every gaze burned with pride; every voice lifted in welcome.
Shadowmane moved down the hill, and the rest followed to the palace.
"Your new home," Daigen said, gesturing to the enormous shadow that loomed over the city.
The Bloodstone Palace had been carved straight into the mountain itself.
The black walls were streaked with crimson glass that glowed red in the light, bleeding over the two statues that flanked the main entrance.
A man in full armour held out his hands—one cradling a full moon, the other a crescent.
A woman stood opposite him, her long hair flowing, hands lifting a rising sun.
Thorns wrapped around them as if the realm itself meant to drag them apart.
The Blood Gods who created this kingdom.
In the courtyard at the foot of the palace steps, Daigen dismounted in his usual graceful fashion.
Too overwhelmed by the sight before me to protest, I let his hands span my waist and lower me to the ground.
His gaze burned against my cheek, his palm firm at the small of my back as he guided me forward.
As we climbed the palace steps, the doors slowly opened, and for the first time since the Tree of Stars, my crystal went still. That alone was enough to unnerve me.
Inside, the air was cooler, carrying a faint metallic hint to it.
All the staff had assembled to greet their king.
Members of the Bloodstone court had gathered too, their elegant gowns and dark robes gleaming even as night approached.
A few murmured about the state of my dress.
I knew how awful I looked yet I kept my head lifted high.
When one courtier’s gaze lingered on me for a moment too long, Daigen’s eyes cut to him.
The man dropped his head and stumbled back, away from view.
Daigen didn’t even need to say anything. His presence alone commanded enough.
“Hasàek,” he called out. “Prepare the master chamber.”
A tall, thin man in ash-grey robes stepped forward. “The… the master chamber, sire?”
“That is what I said,” Daigen snapped, tugging his crystal free from under his armour. Gasps rippled through the hall at its glow. “It would appear the gods required more of me this Stargala.” He looked at me, his dark gaze holding me still. “I bring you home, my queen.”
Around us, the courtiers shifted, glances dancing around, unease thickening in the air.
One of them bowed, then another, and another, until the entire hall bowed before me.
Not all of it was willing; I felt the resistance in their silence, the shock spreading among them.
They were wise not to voice it, though my stomach still tightened.
At least I managed to keep my head high.
I would not let this place tear me apart like the Moonstones did.
Daigen turned and called out names. Two women, èllia and Thràena, stepped forward, bowing first to their king, then to me.
éllia. Thraéna. Hasàek. Even their names cut like blades on the tongue.
Then there was Daigen’s name—clean, unmarked with an accent, yet sharper than all of them.
He gestured to the smaller woman who wore a simple moon-white gown with a scarlet bodice.
Her bright copper hair fell in soft waves clipped with silver butterflies.
He gestured to her first, then the other woman.
“They will assist you in settling in. You’ll meet the rest of your ladies tomorrow. Your court…?”
“In a few weeks’ time, my liege,” Hasàek offered quickly.
Daigen nodded. “Until then, they will attend you.”
Attend me. As if I were already seated on his throne.
He looked at the one called éllia. She wore a black silk dress that swept wide around her but cinched at the waist with a crimson corset beaded with crescent jewels. Her amber-brown eyes met mine briefly before they snapped to the floor.
“Yes, my king,” they murmured with a low curtsy.
I swallowed my unease and smiled at Thràena. She returned it quickly before ducking her head, as though afraid to be caught looking at me.
I wondered if it was my presence alone that frightened them, or if it was just my hair.
èllia didn’t smile back. Her brows pinched tight, her frown cutting like glass before she curtsied again and then turned away, skirts whispering her retreat. There was something about èllia that felt odd to me. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I turned back to Daigen, who was still issuing orders, his voice sharp, his court and staff scattering away quickly to obey. Warriors vanished through archways. Then Daigen’s hand pressed against the small of my back. It felt possessive and protective at the same time. I didn’t pull away.
“I’ll take you to your room,” he said, steering me across the hall.
“I thought it was being prepared?” I asked.
“That room is for when we’re mated,” he said. “In the meantime, you will have chambers in my wing. It’ll be guarded at all times, so don’t get any ideas.”
There was a trace of a smirk on his face, but the warning in his voice was clear.
“I’m all out of ideas,” I muttered. “Too tired.”
His glance flickered with something dangerously close to amusement, making my heart stutter.
I snapped my eyes forward as he led me down the stairs into a corridor filled with moving tapestries.
A silvaryn grazed a crimson meadow and lifted its jeweled head as we passed; a warrior flung a rope of starlight to draw the moon across an obsidian sky; a stormy sea swallowed a vessel whole, its sails marked with an aurlion chasing a sunburst. The same sigil that had been etched into the Sunstone Queen’s mask.
Daigen stopped beside me, his shadow stretching beside mine over the painting. The ship continued to sink lower until the frame swallowed it whole. I could not explain why but looking at it brought tears to my eyes.
“My grandfather had this painted so no one would forget,” Daigen said from behind me.
“Forget what?” I asked, tracing the waves with my finger. “I don’t remember this in the Selenith Archive.”
The instant my fingertip brushed the paint, a storm erupted in my mind.
Waves, screams, and the horrific cracking of wood as the ship capsized.
I wrenched my hand back with a gasp; the sound vanished, but my skin burned as if the sea itself had scorched me.
“What… happened?” I gasped out.
“Your gods happened,” he spat, bitterness clear in his voice.
He strode on, shoulders rigid now, and I knew better than to press him.
We turned down a different hall where iron braziers burned with silver flame and shadows flickered across vaulted archways. A set of black doors opened into a chamber vast enough to swallow my village, although we didn’t enter it. Daigen paused in the doorway.
“This is my throne room, where I hold court,” he said. “You won’t be summoned here until you’re ready.”
I caught only one thing before he moved on. The Bloodstone Throne. It sat dominating the hall from the far end, carved from obsidian stone with sharp red crystals slicing through it. Even from the doorway, I could see the bones had been worked into it. The remnants of Daigen’s enemies.
A shiver slid down my spine as I forced myself to follow him.
We entered a larger archway and then climbed a staircase that felt neverending in my exhaustion. By the time we reached the top, my legs and arms ached, throbbing from exertion. Daigen’s hand brushed my back again as he guided me forward. I was secretly relieved for the support.
The hall beyond was wider, its onyx doors evenly spaced along the dark walls. A red carpet ran the length of them, lit by the warm flicker of amber sconces. A crystal chandelier hung low from the ceiling, glinting faintly as we passed.
“This is my wing,” Daigen said. “No one enters without my say. You’ll be safest here.”
The male from before—Hasàek—stood outside one of the doors. Servants hurried by him, carrying plates and baskets of linen. He snapped his fingers to signal one and then dipped his head to the king.
“I had baths drawn for you, sire.”
Daigen kept his attention on me, slowly reaching out to touch my face. But then he pulled his hand back and let it fall clenched by his side.
“Anything you need, Hasàek will fetch it for you,” he said. “Take as long as you need to rest.”
“You’re… leaving?”
My voice caught him before he turned to leave.
He looked at me. He could scarcely keep his hands off me just a short time ago.
I thought he was going to claim me the first chance he got.
Now, the thought of being alone for the first time in days filled me with a sense of relief and, bizarrely, dread.
A hollow dread, like a small part of me no longer knew how to exist without his presence pressing against my skin.
“Do you yearn for me so soon?” he teased, grinning.
I lifted my chin despite the heat that flooded to my face. “No, I’m just… surprised you’re leaving me alone, is all. You barely let me breathe on your horse.”
The edge of his mouth twitched. “This chamber will be guarded day and night. Your ladies will arrive shortly to aid you however you wish. Do not wander off alone. Unless you want me to come hunting for you.”
Being hunted by Daigen was the last thing I wanted.
Because something told me I might enjoy it.