CHAPTER 9
THE MANOR, A’KORI
Present Day
Felias, my uncle, seems to be a particularly jovial man.
Whether it is for my own benefit or the onlookers surveying us, he makes a grand show of pointing out all the most spectacular sites we pass as the carriage glides across the pristine roads of A’kori.
The ancient, cobbled streets, a far cry from the muddy war ridden ruts spanning La’tari.
The entire hillside city is a stunning array of boldly colorful buildings stacked almost one on top of the next, each home and business taller than the one that came before.
Large balconies adorn most homes. Wide swung doors open to the spring breeze, pulling the long panels of sheer fabrics out toward the sea.
Thoughtfully designed cliffside parks are decorated with large copper statues, long patinaed by the salty sea air.
Many look out toward the open waters of the ocean, so lifelike in their crafting it is as if they once stood watch only to become frozen in their form after centuries of guarding their homes.
A gentle gust tickles my nose, teasing it with the scent of fresh baked sweet breads, and my stomach betrays me with a loud gurgle.
Bells hung over the doors of the local shops ring cheerfully as patrons come and go, blending into the quiet hum of greetings and goodbyes.
It is a far cry from the dark city I expect to find.
The main boulevard feels as if it will continue to wind endlessly north until, at once, the city ends, breaking from the colorful walls and parting into an open expanse of lush, wild greenery.
In the distance, the palace sits nestled against the base of many high snowy peaks.
Its dark spires reach hundreds of feet high, puncturing the clouds as if they were built to adorn them like a crown.
Rays of the early morning sun refract off the windows of the tallest spires, casting out light in a glittering array, like jewels among the heavens.
“Is it not grand?” my uncle says on a sigh, clearly enamored with the sight, and I can’t argue; it’s breathtaking.
Only once have I been to the La’tari capital. It was there that I’d been selected to serve as Drakai, though Leanna trained me for five years before presenting me to the king. Since the day she found me, at the tender age of four, every waking moment was spent instructing me.
I doubted my acceptance into the fold when Leanna took me before the king.
It was no secret I was Leanna’s least favorite student; I had never been enough to satisfy her need for perfection.
Never quick enough, agile enough, clever enough, and certainly a far cry from the beauties she was accustomed to granting the title Fea Dien.
But nothing I’d seen at the La’tari capital could have prepared me for the opulence of the A’kori kingdom.
The carriage slows as it makes its ascent toward the palace grounds, the size and grandeur of every estate we pass increasing the nearer we come to its well-fortified grounds.
The palace sits behind high, thick walls of dark granite, at the top of a steep incline, beyond a beautiful forest with a wide sweeping river at its base.
It’s clear to me now why it has never been captured.
It is the epitome of a tactical nightmare for anyone who would dare to attempt to breach it, and I can’t wait to ask Bront how he would go about taking it.
Distracted by the beauty of the kingdom I hardly notice when the carriage stops in the courtyard of what is to be my new home for the foreseeable future.
It is clear by the size and condition of the estate that Felias is an incredibly wealthy man, and I can’t help but wonder what portion of his funds come from the La’tari crown.
His estate sits on a small rise directly across from the palace grounds, bordered on its eastern side by a dense old growth forest. Every inch of his home not occupied by a window or door is covered from ground to rooftop in a robustly flowering vine boasting the most exquisite red flowers I have ever seen.
The carriage door swings open, and I take in a deep lungful of floral air, the breath leaving my lungs on a sigh.
I’m glad to be free of my confinement on the ship, somewhere I can stretch my legs, somewhere …
else. I bury thoughts of the ship the moment I summon them, suppressing a tangled minefield of memories that I do not care to relive.
“You’ve grown into quite the young lady since I last saw you at your birth right.” Felias’s voice draws me out of my darkening thoughts, and I realize I’ve taken his arm and allowed him to lead me into the house.
Servants dash by with bundles of cut flowers in purple and blue hues, their trays stacked high with small, ornately decorated cakes. I wonder how many of his men can be trusted. Not all of them, if even inside the privacy of his home he continues to keep up appearances.
His eyes follow mine to a silver tray piled high with letters boasting his golden seal—a small, leaping fox.
It seems a fitting crest for a spy, perhaps a little too on the nose, but who am I to judge?
The man has done something right if he’s been trusted with my care for the duration of my assignment.
It’s impressive that all while working this closely with the La’tari he managed to remain so close to the court of the feyn king.
I can’t control the deep pit that forms in my stomach when a slight feyn male with rusty colored hair rushes past me, hurrying the letters out the front door.
While he boasts all of the ethereal beauty of their race, he holds none of the lethal grace I witnessed as a child.
Becoming comfortable in the presence of the feyn is both necessary for my mission and the greatest threat to my life.
I watch as he disappears around a tall hedge bordering the yard, curious what his gift might be, when my uncle’s voice breaks apart my ponderings.
“I’ve decided to host a party to celebrate you, niece,” Felias says, leading me up a grand staircase. “I’m sure you will be well rested and ready to receive my guests by tomorrow night.”
“Thank you, Uncle. It will be an honor to meet your friends,” I reply when we step onto the second-floor landing. While meeting his friends may not be the honor I claim it is, I am eager to make the connections I need to fulfill my mission.
“I’m sure you’ll make many of your own soon enough.” He smiles and winks, seemingly satisfied with our little show for the time being.
It takes every ounce of self-control to school my features when he opens the door, leading me into a corner room with a view of both the palace and his own expansive gardens.
“I’ll have your luggage brought up along with some food. I’m sure your palate is in desperate need of something far more refined than ship fare.”
“That is very kind of you.”
“Not at all,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “I do hope you will make yourself at home. If you need anything at all, there is a service bell just here.” He points to a long swath of golden cord by the door.
I dip my head in thanks, and he graciously excuses himself.
Never in my life have I seen a room so large, surely no one person requires this much space to simply sleep.
Not that I’m complaining. The bed alone could fit me eight times over and I moan as my hand brushes across the dark silk sheets tumbling to the wood floors.
I can’t wait to slide my body into them.
Beyond a set of gilded doors is a separate room for the bath.
Dark stone floors of green shine under the light cast through the tall leaded glass windows.
A large tub sits at the center of the room next to a lever that summons water to fill the basin.
I’ve never seen such a thing, and I chastise myself over my excitement.
I can hardly wait to try it. Leanna warned me about the way the nobles hoard their riches in the north, but nothing I ever learned about the A’kori has prepared me for what I am seeing.
Back in the main room I hang my cloak and crack a window overlooking the garden.
The sweet floral breeze permeating the grounds wafts through my chambers, rolling the light floor length curtains in its wake.
I settle into a large, velvet-lined chair with a beautiful view of the estate and let my head rest against the high-cushioned back.
My throat burns as my eyes begin to water.
I tell myself it must be the flowers, an allergy, a small inconvenience and nothing more.
A small quiver of my lip and I tell myself I am exhausted.
I am. I hardly slept last night. I’ll feel better after a nap.
My eyes slip shut as a chittering of dainty laughs drift through the window on the breeze and flit past my ears.
Voices, snatched away by the wind, lull me to sleep just as a single traitorous tear falls down my cheek.
I am jolted awake by a knock at the door, my entire being protesting the absence of my daggers as I rise to answer it.
It is likely far too early in my stay to have garnered any real attention, and I remind myself that anyone here to harm me would hardly be knocking.
It’s difficult to be completely relieved when I find the slight male with rusty hair on the other side of the door.
He proffers a large plate of home-cooked fare, the scent alone making my mouth water.
He only stays long enough to shuffle my trunk into the room and extend a dinner invitation from Felias before leaving me to my meal.
The hours of sleep I missed last night begin to wear on me as the food settles in my stomach, but I can’t let myself sleep anymore.
I spend the day exploring the home. I mark the exits in my mind, the quickest path to each, objects throughout the house that can be used as weapons should the need arise. The usual.