Chapter 5 #2
Just before I reached Clermont, footsteps sounded on the gravel behind me. I turned to find Ramia, my maid, marching purposefully toward me, a traveling bag in her hand. Her graying brown hair was tied into a tight bun, and her mouth was pinched in that disapproving look she often gave me.
I frowned at her. “Ramia, what are you?—”
“You cannot present yourself to the king without a lady’s maid,” she said in a clipped tone. “I am coming with you. ”
The blood drained from my face. I wet my lips and leaned close to my maid. “Ramia, you can’t ,” I said in an undertone.
“I have been charged with caring for you since you were barely old enough to stand,” Ramia said, something in her brusque tone softening as she looked at me. “That’s not about to change now. I am coming with you, my lady. You cannot stop me.”
To prove her point, she stepped around me, handing her bag to Clermont with a brief curtsy before climbing into the carriage.
I looked at Clermont, who seemed unperturbed.
He offered me a pleasant smile, as if to reassure me.
I sighed before following after Ramia, my feet unsteady on the steps leading to the carriage.
In a flash, Clermont was there, his green hand on mine to steady me.
I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away, expecting his skin to feel slimy. But it was surprisingly smooth and dry.
Darkness pressed in on me the moment I stepped inside.
The curtains were drawn, blocking out all light.
As my eyes adjusted, I made out Ramia sitting off to one side, her hands folded in her lap.
I took a seat next to her, marveling at how spacious the carriage was on the inside.
It was large enough to comfortably fit six people, at least.
After the servants returned with my trunk and tethered it to the carriage, Clermont climbed in, sitting across from me and Ramia.
He was still wearing that strange smile on his face, as if he didn’t have any other expression to offer.
He rapped his knuckles on the roof of the carriage, and the driver urged the skeletal beasts into movement.
The carriage jostled, and I couldn’t stop myself from peeling back the thick curtain to gaze at the mountains and castle one last time.
A lump formed in my throat as we made our way down the gravel road.
No more late nights in the library.
No more trysts with Gerard .
No more cave adventures with Azure.
The lump in my throat tightened, making it difficult to breathe.
But I continued to stare at the stone-and-steel fortress that was once my home, trying to memorize every angle of it before it faded from view.
When we rounded the curve, the mountains swallowed up the palace, much like the Shadow Court was swallowing up my life.
A heaviness filled my heart, and I closed my eyes, unable to contain the hot tears as they streaked down my face.
From this point on, my life was not my own. I was at the complete mercy of the Wraith King.
Within minutes, Ramia had fallen asleep, her head propped up on the wall of the carriage as we jostled down the road. But I couldn’t possibly sleep. My mind was spinning, my body warring between nausea and panic.
Too late, I realized I had never sent my letter to Princess Eira. And I hadn’t had time to tell her I’d be leaving for the Shadow Court.
It had all happened so quickly. Would I even be allowed to send letters, once I was in the clutches of the Wraith King?
“What is the Wraith King like?” I asked Clermont, trying to distract myself from my nerves.
Clermont winced, his face twisting into a pained grimace. “I would advise you not to refer to him as that. It was a name given by those who claim his appearance to be ‘demonic,’ and it’s rather offensive to our unseelie kind.”
My eyes grew wide, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Shit. “I’m so terribly sorry. I had no idea.” Stones, would he tell the king what I’d said? Would I be imprisoned the moment I entered the Shadow Court?
Clermont waved a green hand. “Don’t fret, my dear. You were raised by humans. It’s hardly your fault what you were taught about our kind. But please be aware that we take pride in our unseelie forms, and to insult them is the gravest offense.”
I swallowed hard, committing this piece of information to memory.
“Do you—I mean, do the Shadow Fae have seelie forms as well?” From what I’d studied, there were two kinds of fae: seelie and unseelie, or civilized and wild.
My mother had been seelie, so she had only had one form.
But the unseelie had two forms and could appear as either seelie—ordinary fae—or unseelie, which was often more beastly and animalistic.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to stifle my anxiety at the thought of encountering so many monstrous creatures.
But, if some of them had seelie forms, perhaps it wouldn’t be too terrible.
Clermont was silent for a long moment, his gaze shifting to the window. Sorrow and longing filled his yellow eyes. “We did, once.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing more of seelie forms. Instead, he answered my first question.
“King Varius is a strong and powerful leader. He is seen as ruthless and callous by some, but he does what is best for his people. No one has sacrificed more for our court than he has. He does have a bit of a temper, though.” He chuckled to himself as if this were an amusing tidbit and not something that terrified me to my core.
I had many other questions. Would he harm me in any way?
Would he take me to his bed by force? Would he have other wives or concubines?
But all of these questions would be far too inappropriate to voice, so instead, I looked out the window again.
The ground had transformed into a stony gray expanse, all foliage and plant life now gone thanks to the shadows.
Mist filled the air, swirling around us as we traveled, and I shrank against the back of my seat .
“Fear not,” Clermont said. “The shadows cannot reach us in here.”
“Why not?”
“The Umbra Mist protects us.”
My brows drew together. It was hard to reconcile the idea of good shadows and bad shadows . To me, they were all evil. But, according to Clermont, one type of shadow protected us from the other. It was quite confusing.
“Brace yourself,” Clermont warned.
I tensed, alarm racing through me as I expected some kind of attack. But there was a slight bump, which jostled the carriage. And suddenly, from outside the window, smoke engulfed us, masking everything from view.
Beside me, Ramia started with a yelp, her head jerking as she woke. With bloodshot eyes, she frantically looked around in confusion.
“We are now in the Shadow Court,” Clermont explained.
In spite of my fear, I leaned forward to gaze out the window, fascinated by the way the shadows moved like they were alive.
Thick plumes churned as if coming from the ground like a geyser.
Some coiled in faint wisps, while others made great sweeping motions in the air.
They almost looked like they were dancing.
“I should warn you,” Clermont said suddenly, “that Agnarr Castle has certain magical properties that might alarm you.”
My gaze snapped to his, my blood chilling. “What does that mean?” My voice was sharper than I’d intended. Beside me, Ramia went stiff as a board.
“It is difficult to explain,” Clermont hedged. “It is best to show you in person.”
“Will it harm us?” I asked quickly. Surely, he could give us that much information.
“Not unless you intend to inflict harm on someone in the castle. ”
My stomach turned liquid at that. Shit, shit, shit. Would this magical castle somehow know of my intention to kill the king?
“We are human,” Ramia said, a panicked edge to her voice. “I—I don’t know if we can survive living in a castle that’s surrounded by fae magic.”
“You can,” Clermont said, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know this because the human princesses from before survived it as well.”
“Did they?” I challenged. The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. “Or did the castle end up killing them? I truly have no idea what fate befell the brides who came before me. Like my aunt, for instance.”
Clermont’s easy smile slipped from his face, his expression turning cold.
“As you are already aware, humans do not have as long a lifespan as fae do. I can assure you the previous brides were not killed by the castle, nor were their deaths the result of nefarious means. Some humans simply die of old age or illness. Did you ever wonder why a human bride is collected every generation?” He lifted his eyebrows as if this answered all my questions.
Because the Wraith King got hungry and had run out of human flesh to devour. The thought came to me unbidden, prompted by my nightmares and the frightening stories I’d heard as a child.
I made no response. It was only after the sun started setting, darkening the mist around us, that I realized Clermont never outright stated that Varius did not kill his brides.
He also never said the shadows didn’t kill them, either.
Years of manipulating truths because of my fae bloodline made me acutely aware of the way words could be phrased. Clermont implied that human brides were collected because they died of old age every generation. But he did not explicitly say this.
Nausea swirled in my gut. It was painfully clear this fae was harboring secrets about his king and the Shadow Court—particularly why they needed me so badly.
Breathe, Sybelle, I told myself, my hand automatically going to the amber stone at my throat. My finger ran over the smooth surface and chiseled edges, seeking comfort in the familiar feel of it. Azure’s voice was silent, but I knew she was there. She had to be.
I prayed she could fly high enough to steer clear of the shadows.
Still holding my pendant, I asked, “Is the castle close?”