Chapter 11 #2
The young woman flinched hard as fire burst suddenly from Aedric’s hand. For a brief moment, the flames danced bright and wild in her eyes before he curled his fingers into a fist, extinguishing them.
“Show us to our rooms and return to her side,” he ordered, every word clipped and precise. “The moment she shows any sign of clarity, you will send for me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, High Lord,” she whispered.
Aedric’s sight dropped dismissively to Veylan trembling on the floor.
“And what,” he asked, nudging him once with the toe of his boot, “is to be done with this sorry creature?”
The young woman visibly startled before half-turning toward the darkness beyond the doorway.
“Guards,” she called. At the same time, a string of violet light slipped from her palm, slithering through the doorway and vanishing into the dark.
Moments later, two Fae males entered, dressed in plain black livery bearing an entwined sun and moon upon their chests.
Hamish bent and removed the iron cuffs from Veylan’s wrists, unwinding the heavy chain while leaving the collar firmly locked around his throat. Veylan barely reacted, swaying where he knelt as the guards stepped forward and took hold of him beneath the arms, hauling him upright between them.
The female gave a small, tight nod, though the apprehension never quite left her face. “Take him to the lower cells. Ensure the iron remains secured.”
Veylan let out a strained sound of protest as they dragged him away, his boots scraping uselessly against the floor. How frail and small he looked without his shadows.
She turned back to us and bowed again, low, her black hair falling forward in a sleek curtain around her delicately pointed ears.
“My name is Layne, High Lord,” she squeaked. “I am Lady Levinica’s personal handmaid.” Her gaze slipped briefly toward me and Hamish before quickly returning to Aedric. “If you would please follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”
We followed Layne through the castle.
A chill breeze drifted through the corridors as we walked, brushing against my skin and carrying with it the scent of salt and something softer beneath it—wild roses, perhaps, or some unfamiliar flowering thing I couldn’t place.
After the suffocating heaviness of Dheren, the cool air should have been a balm. Yet I found I barely noticed it.
Something about the castle set my teeth on edge.
My nerves remained taut as I glanced around, taking in soaring domed ceilings and elegant pillars, marble gleaming faintly beneath our feet.
And yet something about the place felt… wrong.
Too still. Shadows gathered thickly between columns and along the edges of the halls where sparse fae light failed to reach.
No servants crossed our path. No voices drifted from distant rooms.
In truth, there was no sound at all but our footsteps, echoing through the corridors, stretching unnaturally far before returning to us again, hollow and empty.
Layne led us through another wing and down a short carpeted corridor lined at intervals with doors, our footsteps muffled at last. She slowed before one of them.
Another thin thread of violet light unspooled from her hand, unlatching the door and nudging it open.
Another bow, and she stepped quickly aside to let us through.
The chamber was smaller than I expected. A modest sitting area occupied the front of the suite, with a bedroom tucked beyond and a bathing chamber attached. Everything had been tastefully appointed—elegant, even—though restrained compared to the grandeur of Solmire.
Aedric stopped short the moment he crossed the threshold. His expression tightened.
Layne immediately shrunk beneath it.
“I—I hope this is to your liking, High Lord,” she said uncertainly.
“This will suit us just fine,” I said before Aedric could speak.
She looked relieved. “Shall I send up refreshments?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “We’re fine for the evening.”
Layne dipped into a deep curtsy. “I will show your companion to his room.”
She slipped quietly back into the corridor where Hamish still waited, alert as ever, the door clicking softly shut.
“Just fine?” Aedric echoed, faint incredulity threading through his voice as he rounded on me.
He swept a disbelieving glance across the chamber before crossing to the window and yanking the curtains shut in one abrupt motion, cutting off whatever lay beyond the glass. Not that there was much to see.
He turned back toward me. “This,” he said, gesturing around us, “is just fine to you?”
“It’s only a room, Aedric.”
“It’s scarcely better than servants’ quarters!”
He dragged a hand through his hair, leaving the neat arrangement disheveled as he began pacing the length of the sitting area.
Only then did I understand. This wasn’t about the room.
Levinica hadn’t come to greet us—hadn’t even been capable of receiving us.
Whatever hope he’d carried here had begun to fray the moment Layne admitted how badly Levinica’s condition had worsened.
He was worried—about the vision, about the bond, about whether we’d crossed Elantis only to leave the Dusklands empty-handed.
He stopped abruptly. “I’m going to see Hamish,” he muttered, already turning toward the door. “See what sort of room they gave him.”
I didn’t answer. The door snicked shut behind him.
I stood there for a moment, suddenly uncertain what to do with myself. Alone in this strange place, in a castle that had once belonged to the Dark Prince, my nerves prickled unpleasantly beneath my skin.
Had he ever stood in these rooms?
The thought came unbidden. I pushed it aside and glanced toward the bathing chamber just beyond, already prepared. Steam curled from the surface of the water, the air warm and heavy with a clean, soothing scent. A bath was infinitely more welcome than standing here alone with my thoughts.
Quietly, I undressed and stepped into it.