Chapter 15 – Neve
Chapter 15
NEVE
T humbs rubbing together, I perched on the edge of the prince’s bed and stared down the short hallway that exited to the rest of the palace. I was determined to wait until Vale returned from speaking with his father. Determined to pry out the reason he’d been so scared to see his brother touch me without a glove.
Because after much thought, after replaying the scene over and over, I was certain that was what had happened. And it made no sense.
I glanced at the door again, willing Vale to come back. Wanting to satisfy my curiosity. When he didn’t appear, I heaved a sigh.
I might as well get comfortable.
Hauling myself off the bed, I went to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a simple gray cotton dress. One that Roar had given me, but not one in his house colors. I’d never wear crimson and gold in combination again, not if I could help it.
I slipped off the clothing I’d worn to the Courting Festival event and pulled the dress over my head, slipping my wings through the slits at the back. Though it was plain, the cotton was soft on my skin, decadent even. A quiet sort of luxury I wouldn’t expect by looking at the dress. Completing the look, I tied my hair back with a pink ribbon. The color hinted it might have been from Saga’s stash.
Vale had said servants would take our laundry daily, so I tossed the other dress in the hamper and debated over how best to fill the time. Since he’d left to speak with his father, a bell had already tolled outside. Would he be gone for two hours? Or even three? What was the king saying to him?
Stars, I had so many questions and no one to answer them! I needed to occupy my mind. I was just wondering how to do so when I heard voices outside Vale’s suite.
“I wish to speak with Princess Neve. Is she in his room?”
I stiffened. I’d know that voice anywhere. Why was Prince Rhistel here?
“She is, but I’m afraid I can’t do that, my prince,” a deep, gruff tone spoke. “Prince Vale said no one goes in or out except him.”
“I’m the heir to Winter’s Realm, Sir Arvid. I demand to be let in.”
I rose and tiptoed down to the door.
“I understand, Prince Rhistel, but Prince Vale?—”
“Is the spare,” Rhistel cut him off. “I will be your king. And right now, if I wish, I can have your title stripped. Or even your head removed from your shoulders.” A pause. “Should you wish to keep both, you will let me inside.”
The knight didn’t respond, but I imagined what was happening. Sir Arvid was working for Vale right now, but Rhistel held more power. Rhistel could make good on his threats. If I were the knight, I’d open the door.
That put me in danger.
I froze, and my heart began thrumming. Rhistel was a mystery to me, a terrifying one. After the solarium, I wasn’t eager to face him again.
I spun, ready to fly from the windows as I’d done the night of my failed escape, when something caught my eye. A rectangular patch on the wall glowed.
A sharp intake of breath passed my lips as I recognized the spot. It was the very door I’d come through the night I’d been fleeing Calpurnia and her friends. The door that had spat me into Vale’s chambers and then sealed itself behind me.
Like last time, the castle lent me aid.
“You will let me in, Sir Arvid. Now ,” Prince Rhistel gave his order again, his voice softer this time, more soothing and . . . Somehow also convincing?
I almost wanted to open the door for him, but I shook off that lunacy and instead rushed to the glowing rectangle. A doorknob appeared out of thin air as the main door to the suite snicked open.
“Princess Neve,” Sir Arvid called out.
I paused. His voice sounded strange too. Somehow dimmed from before. As if he stood farther away than he was. “I have Prince Rhistel here to see you, Princess Neve. Are you decent?”
In response, I flung the glowing door open and passed over the threshold, into the hidden part of the castle. I pulled the door shut behind me.
“Princess Neve?” Sir Arvid called again. “Are you there?”
“Of course she is. You didn’t see her leave, did you?” Rhistel barked. “Let me through!”
Footsteps stomped down the short entry hallway that led deeper into Vale’s chambers. They stopped suddenly, likely when the heir reached the edge of the bedchamber.
“Neve, where are you?” he crowed. “We need to talk.”
I scoffed. I wanted to speak with him as much as I wished to meet a horde of orcs in the woods.
“I know you’re in here,” Rhistel added, his tone once again lower and softer. Perhaps he thought it made him sound more approachable?
My fingers drifted to the door handles before I caught myself. What was going on? It was like I subconsciously wanted to obey him.
“Prince Rhistel,” Sir Arvid said, his voice still far away and monotone. “I do not believe she is here.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“No, my prince.”
“She might be hiding. Search the room.”
Heavy footsteps walked past where I hid, and items shifted as the knight followed directions. After a few minutes, Sir Arvid spoke, “She’s not here. ”
“How can you be sure?” Rhistel growled.
“Well, she is not so small that you couldn’t find her.”
I would have laughed had the consequences not been so dire. The knight spoke true. I was no slip of a faerie, especially not now that I’d been eating the rich food of the noble class for weeks. I’d gone from a blood slave who received only enough food to be deemed healthy, and never as much as I wanted to eat, to fully blossomed curves.
“Fine,” Rhistel barked. More heavy-footed stomping, this time back toward the door. “To your post. And don’t tell my brother I was here, or I’ll make good on my promise of removing you from your position.”
“I understand, my prince.” The knight lumbered by.
The door to Vale’s room shut, and I leaned against the wall inside the hidden part of the castle. I had no idea why Rhistel would seek me out, but I knew one thing; he didn’t have a noble reason. That had been close, far too close.
As my heart rate slowed, I allowed myself to take in the hallway. I’d been here before, though I hadn’t noticed too much surrounding this door. That day, I’d been convinced that someone had been singing inside the part of Frostveil Castle hidden from the Aaberg family and had wished to find them. Really, though, I’d heard Vale singing and stumbled out of the secret parts of the castle, right into his chambers. Stars, that had been a mortifying and scary night.
But it had also allowed me to see Vale in a new light. He hadn’t harmed me. Never even turned me in for appearing in his suite. He’d believed me when I said I’d come in through a hidden door. So much so that he’d acquired the old castle blueprints and found the very door I’d slipped through.
The door I’d passed through again when I had nothing to do but wait for Vale to return. The skin on my arms pebbled.
Time to explore .
I scanned the hallway, recognizing the direction I’d come from before and deciding to amble in the opposite direction. Before I ventured forth, however, I pulled the pink ribbon from my hair and tied it to the doorknob. It wouldn’t do to get lost in here and have to find a different way out. With my luck, I’d exit right into Rhistel’s bedchambers. Or worse, the king’s rooms. My stomach roiled at that terrifying thought.
Certain I’d be able to find the door to Vale’s suite again, I set off, taking in the art that lined the corridor.
This part of the palace had been frozen in time. In here, Falk imagery reigned and there was not a single tapestry or painting of a white bear in sight. Everything looked the same as last time.
Except . . .
I stopped in my tracks and examined one portrait. Clean. Spotless, even. As was the next and the next. Last time I’d been back here, there had been a fair bit of dust. Did that mean someone came here and cleaned?
I gasped. It was the only thing that made sense.
But what would be the point? They couldn’t have been in the lost part of the palace the entire time. They’d have starved. Which meant they had access to the Aaberg portion of Frostveil, as I did .
Were they a servant? The moment I questioned it, I laughed. It would have to be a servant. I’d never seen a single noble fae clean.
What would they say if they saw me back here?
The thought both intrigued and terrified me. I stood on thin ice with the king and queen. What if someone saw me and assumed I was a rebel and that was why I could access this part of the castle?
Wouldn’t that mean they weren’t pro-Aaberg either? And where did I stand in that? I was, after all, technically of House Aaberg now.
Not that the castle cared.
It was all so confusing, and, in truth, my curiosity proved far too strong to be hindered by fear. I continued on, strolling the hallways and pausing at paintings and works of art. All the while, I half hoped I’d run into another person.
One statue of the eldest son of King Harald and Queen Revna, Aksel Falk, was so artfully done in white marble accented with purple gems on the sword he held that it took my breath away. I knew nothing of the prince, but I was glad the palace had hidden the statue. King Magnus would destroy it if given half a chance, and it was too beautiful for that.
I left the statue and was taking a left turn to delve deeper into the castle when a sound caught my ear. I stopped. Listened.
For a moment, I thought I’d imagined it, but then it came again.
This way .
I gasped and twisted in the direction of the disembodied voice. Had I imagined that?
No . . . I’d heard voices before. First, when I touched the Drassil tree in Traliska, and most recently during my wedding. It had happened again when I’d saved Anna’s life. I cocked my head. Was it the same voice? It was feminine and did sound like the one I’d just heard.
As if realizing I needed a bigger push, the voice spoke up once more.
Come this way.
Yes, definitely the same voice.
My nerves mounted. Did I dare? What if this was when I’d pay the price for Anna’s life? I couldn’t see how, but equally so, I knew better than to ignore the voice. I’d made a deal, and if this was my moment to pay up, well, I might be scared, but I’d do so willingly.
So I padded down the hallway in the voice’s direction, sure that when I got to where it wanted me to go, the person, or maybe the thing , would let me know.
I reached the end of the hallway, or what appeared to be the end. Perhaps it extended elsewhere in the Aaberg part of the palace, but in the hidden section, there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere but to the right or the left.
One of the doors was ajar, so I took that as a sign and peeked inside.
A vast bedroom spread out before me. I’d only seen one as large and grand inside the palace. It didn’t take a genius to determine whose room I stood in.
Not with the crown of white gold, diamonds, and snowflakes displayed on a pedestal, sitting on a cushion. Nor with the armor that had been laid on a settee, as if someone had just taken it off. But what gave me the most insight was the painting of a male and female embracing. I’d seen them before, in a family portrait. It had to be the old king, Harald Falk, and Queen Revna. Judging by the size of it and the shape of the armor, this was the old king’s room.
I stepped inside and scanned it, my eyes stopping on a sword glinting in a case. It glimmered prettily; the handle ending in a hawk’s head. An ornate sheath complete with a leather strap to allow the wearer to sling it over their shoulder was also in the case. The whole setup was lovely and impressive but shockingly not very large. Perhaps King Harald had been a smaller fae? I studied the blade and the sheath. It wasn’t even as decorated as some of the swords in Vale’s personal armory. I was at a loss. Nothing in here screamed, look at me .
“Is this the place?”
Turn around.
“All right then.” I padded out of the king’s room and across the hall.
I placed my hand on the door in front of me and paused. The other door had been open, making me certain it wouldn’t lead me to the public part of the palace. But what if this door did? As quietly as I could, I leaned closer to the wood and listened. No sound came from the other side so I pushed the door open.
The room I entered was lush and spectacular, at least three times the size of Vale’s quarters, which were quite large indeed. Larger than the other room I’d seen, larger than King Magnus’s chambers.
I lingered in the antechamber, a sitting area of sorts, taking a moment to look around. A library sprawled to my right, while a seating area complete with six armchairs and two settees, all in shades of glittering silver, sprawled across the central part of the room. To my left were three doors. I veered that way, opening the first to find a bathroom as opulent as the rest of the room, but still, only a bathroom. I shut the door and moved on to the next one. Behind it stretched a closet half the size of the main room.
Marvel clouding any hesitancy I’d been clinging to, I ventured deeper into the closet, eyeing the lovely gowns hanging from silver rods and the jewelry glittering on a pure amethyst table that dominated the center of the room.
Stars alive! The jewels in here were beyond stunning, larger than any I’d seen at court too. I picked up a circular brooch that featured a white stone in the center. It was veined with red and gold lines that danced as I stared at them.
I sucked in a breath, remembering the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball. Recalling speaking to Lord Riis. He’d mentioned a gem that would fit this name.
A phoenix opal.
I studied the stone more closely. Yes, it looked like an opal. And the red and gold veins brought to mind fire, especially as they appeared to move, like a flame would in the wind .
Queen Revna had possessed one. Lord Riis had told me he’d sold it to her. That they were very, very rare.
Was this the old queen’s chambers? It would make sense with this suite being right across from what I was sure was the old king’s rooms.
Slowly, I set the gemstone down. Then, reconsidering, I picked it back up and put it in my pocket. No one would miss it, and I wanted to compare the stone to images to see if I was right.
My gaze drifted to the gowns hanging from silver rods. Moon above, what I wouldn’t give to take one of those too. Though I was no longer unfamiliar with wearing finery, I’d rarely gotten to wear something so fine that was to my taste. These, though outdated, were exquisite.
The color palette of amethyst and a blueish silver. The silver struck me as perfect, like the craftsmanship of the gowns. Lovely beading. Fine lace. Sparkling gems dotting necklines and wrists. Queen Revna must have been a fashion icon in her day.
If this is even really her room. I peered around for more hints and found none that would identify the queen. Not even a single crown or tiara. Where would she keep those?
Perhaps behind the third door, which I assumed was her bedroom?
I left the grand closet and opened the last door to find that I was right. The queen’s bedroom spread out before me, at least twice as large as the bathroom and closet combined. A bed dominated the far wall, and on either side of the bed hung individual portraits of the queen’s family members .
Their sons appeared much more animated in these portraits, more fun. But the portraits also showed two children I had yet to find a clear image of, largely because they’d been portrayed as swaddled babes in all the other family portraits.
In this one, however, they were girls, very small, nearly bald girls. The last born to the king and queen, if my memory of Clemencia’s lessons served me. In this painting, they had to be around one turn of age. They wore the cutest dresses and held hands as they toddled away from the viewer. My heart warmed at the image.
What were their names again? Clemencia had taught me, but that felt like an age ago. And even when I’d been learning them, Clem agreed that the names of the dead princes and princesses were less important than those of the living nobles I’d be interacting with. I wished I could recall and made a note to look that up too when I searched for images of phoenix opals.
I decided to move on, to take in the rest of the room, when a sound of wood scraping against wood caught my ear. I searched for it, found a small desk on the far side of the room, and watched the middle drawer move open of its own accord.
I tried to draw a full, long breath and failed. My chest was simply too tight, my heart rate higher than normal. As intriguing as I found this part of the castle, there was no denying that it was also creepy. What allowed it to act—at least somewhat—sentient?
The question died as something glowed.
“I can take a hint!” I muttered .
As if I hadn’t been taking them all along from a disembodied voice, no less. The same voice who made me promise to pay a debt to save Anna’s life. I squashed the flutter of rising resentment. If this was all I had to do to pay the debt, that wasn’t so bad.
Of course, I had no idea if this was repayment. But I went along with it. For now.
On light feet, I trod over to the desk. Behind the expanse of wood loomed a case of crowns and tiaras. Interesting placement behind a desk and not in her closet full of finery. As if the queen wanted a reminder that her crowns were linked to the work of running a kingdom, rather than fashion. Or perhaps she liked to look at them as she fell asleep? It would forever be a mystery.
When I stood before the desk, I peered inside the open drawer to find that the glowing object was a book. It lay there, amidst the jumble of quills—phoenix feather, if I wasn’t mistaken—three rouge tubes, and a bracelet of glittering white diamonds each as large as a copper claw. My fingers itched to take the bracelet too, but I refrained. The sentient force in this part of the castle hadn’t balked at my taking the opal, but it was best not to test my luck.
Instead, I picked up the book and delighted in the fine, buttery leather that met my fingertips. A clasp held the book shut, but with a press of a button, it unlatched. I opened the book and my eyebrows arched.
This was no book, no story, but a diary.
The queen’s diary.