Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Emilie
“It looks different than I remember.”
Ladon’s response was one of bewilderment. “Gods, I should hope so, Emilie.”
It was clear I wasn’t the only one thinking of the mutilated bodies covering the ground the last time we journeyed to Fort Malek.
The welcome hall was almost unrecognizable now.
Candle-filled chandeliers hung from the ceiling and cast the room in a warm glow.
The dusty stone floor was a mixture of grays and browns, vastly different from the pools of crimson red I remembered.
Long tables were arranged in what had probably been neat rows at one point, but now they were pushed out of place and slightly crooked. Soldiers gathered around and talked loudly in groups. Some had pints in their hands while others were fixated on their dinner plates.
“This is where a lot of us hang out when we’re not on duty,” Ladon said as we approached the front of the hall.
Some turned our way, acknowledging Ladon with a respectful bow of their heads, and I recalled that Fort Malek had been his home before my arrival in Renoa.
Though he’d been absent for some time, he was their High Commander and perhaps even their friend on some level.
“Have you missed this?” I asked. I couldn’t help but notice that some of the women here were quite beautiful. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d had relations with any of them. And yet, it was hard to feel any type of jealousy. None of them would ever share the bond that Ladon and I did.
Then there were the men. Surely some of them were friends with Ladon. I could easily picture him sitting at a table late in the evening, playing games and passing time. I wished I could’ve seen him back then, but perhaps I’d get a glance into his old life while we were here.
“Sometimes,” Ladon said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I miss being on my own and not in my brother’s shadow. And I love my mother, but some days it feels like I’m still a child with her around. I miss my independence, I guess.”
“That’s understandable.” I chuckled. “The day my parents left me on my own in Renoa was one of the best days of my life, I think.”
Ladon smiled and held back a laugh. I wondered if he was picturing that day like I was.
It was the same day we’d trained together for the first time.
Back when he was more likely to strangle me than embrace me.
I had felt on top of the world until Ladon brought me down several notches.
If that version of me could see myself today, she’d be in absolute disbelief to find I’d fallen for such a man.
We were almost at the front of the room when he spoke again. “What I miss the most is feeling competent. I was good at my job. Now, I feel lost every single day. Being a faux king is draining me. I’d give anything to feel like myself again.”
And I’d give anything to reach out and squeeze his hand, but people were watching.
I had a hunch that his identity crisis went beyond his temporary title.
Living post-Murvort was like a foggy dream.
Everything felt surreal, like this version of us only existed in my mind and I was still locked inside that mountain.
Like everything that had happened since was just my brain’s way of coping.
Was any of it real? Was this gathering hall real?
I clenched my fists so hard that I left crescent-shaped marks on my palms. The pain was sharp, but it didn’t linger.
This was real.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take for either of us to feel normal again—if normal was even possible—but I could see why returning to his old routine and home here in Fort Malek might be tempting. My life had been uprooted before our captivity, so normal was far beyond my reach.
My attention turned to the front of the hall, where three individuals sat at a long table on a raised platform.
A massive circular wooden carving adorned the wall behind them, stretching at least four feet in diameter.
The details were intricate and awe-inspiring, and it appeared to tell the history of Fort Malek.
There were hordes of soldiers and battle scenes depicted.
One corner had a sequence that started with the base of Fort Malek being laid—bare bones and simplicity—and moving forward in time until it became the massive infrastructure it was today.
There were so many stories woven into the wood that I didn’t want to tear my eyes from it.
But when the fiercely beautiful woman with dark skin and cunning eyes in the center stood up and spoke, I was forced to give her my attention.
“Well, you are a sight for sore eyes. Welcome home, Ladon.”
“Aubrey,” he said, taking a step closer and grasping her hand over the table. “I hope you haven’t gotten too comfortable in my seat.”
Her serious demeanor morphed into a wide smile, displaying perfect white teeth.
“Just keeping it warm for you, sir.” After releasing his hand, she pushed her hair, woven into dozens of long braids, over her shoulder and took a step to the side.
The other two soldiers followed suit, making room for Ladon and everyone else in our traveling party.
Once seated, a few servers came out from behind a side door and set plates in front of us.
Steam rose, and with it came the scent of butter, garlic, and other spices.
My mouth salivated at the sight of a steak the size of my palm and roasted potatoes.
A few of the soldiers closest to us craned their necks to see our meals, and from their frowns, I assumed we were being given special treatment.
It was highly unlikely steak was served regularly to the fifty or so soldiers who were stationed at Fort Malek.
“Could you bring out the mead as well?” Aubrey asked. I had to lean forward to see her on the other side of Ladon.
“Is this how you use my funds while I’m gone?” Ladon asked, but there was only warmth in his voice.
“You said to take care of the place, and I have,” she replied. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled. Reaching over Ladon’s plate without a care in the world, she extended her hand to me. “I’m Aubrey, captain here at Fort Malek.”
“Do you mind?” Ladon asked. The fork in his hand was positioned dangerously close to stabbing her extended arm.
“I’m Emilie,” I said, quickly shaking her hand so she could return her limb to safety.
“Of course. The bride-to-be. I’m surprised to see you’ve come along on this excursion, but I suppose you’re eager to see your fiancé healed.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my cheeks flushed pink. I had no idea how to respond, so I shoved a bite of potatoes in my mouth instead and simply nodded.
“You didn’t mention her in your correspondence,” she said to Ladon. “If I’d known, I would’ve had another room prepared.”
“She was a last-minute addition, but don’t worry. She can stay in the guest suite next to mine.”
Aubrey nodded.
“Speaking of correspondence, have we heard anything from the Holdens?”
“Not yet, though I wouldn’t hold your breath. Every message we have sent in the past few weeks has gone unanswered.”
“We’ve made several attempts to negotiate peace at the border since learning that Jesse has assumed power,” Ladon said to me in explanation.
Aubrey leaned forward so she could see me. “They don’t seem interested.”
I grinned. Despite the dire circumstances and harsh conditions at the outpost, and the threat of attack at any moment, Aubrey had a way of putting people at ease.
“This time is different,” Ladon said. “I am the one offering to negotiate.”
“You think awfully highly of yourself,” Aubrey said.
I chuckled, and Ladon shot me a glare. “Traitor,” he mouthed.
Throughout the evening, soldiers came and went.
Some approached the head table and greeted old friends.
Others retired to their rooms for the evening as the hours passed.
I had drunk enough mead for the room to spin, but at least I could blame my rosy cheeks on the alcohol and not the way Ladon kept sneaking sideways glances at me.
At some point, the tables had been pushed to the sides of the room, and a quartet of soldiers played string instruments and sang loud, drunken tunes while the others danced in wild circles. I watched in a trance. Their happiness was contagious.
“Do you want to dance?” Ladon asked.
“No.” I huffed a laugh. The last thing I wanted to do was spin around like a fool and have everyone stare at me. I preferred to stay out of the spotlight. When I turned to look at Ladon, he was studying me with an unreadable expression. “Why? Do you?”
I didn’t take him for the dancing type, but perhaps I didn’t know everything about him.
He laughed and shook his head. “No, but I thought it would be impolite not to at least ask. Whenever you’re ready to turn in for the night, let me know. I’ll show you to your room.”
I didn’t tell him that I’d rather stay in his room, though it was my first thought.
It would be highly inappropriate if anyone saw us together, and it went against our agreement to remain friends until Cyrus was healed.
We’d failed to uphold that oath once already, and I had no intention of making it a habit.
I brought my heavy glass to my lips only to find that I’d drank the last drop. Setting it back down, I turned to Ladon. “I’m ready now.”
Ladon led me out of the gathering hall, into the fresh night air and through a covered walkway. He opened another door and waved for me to enter first. It was dimly lit and lacked any notable décor, nothing like the grandness of the castle in Renoa.
It matched Ladon’s personality. He was far more practical and indifferent to the luxury that Renoa offered. This place just fit him somehow.
We walked in quiet down a long, narrow hall and made a turn down a shorter, connecting corridor.
Ladon pointed at the door to my right. “That’s yours.”
He handed me a small brass key, and I fit it into the lock, pushing the door open to find a simple room with dark wooden floors and navy-blue walls.
There was a single window with a long crack down the center that distorted the otherwise beautiful night sky.
The furniture was limited to the essentials—a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser—but at least the bed was adorned with a thick comforter and plump pillows.
My bag rested on top of the bed; someone must’ve delivered our belongings while we ate dinner. I was eager to change into something comfortable so I could succumb to my exhaustion.
“There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall. Unfortunately, only one room has a private bath,” Ladon said.
“Let me guess—yours?”
He smirked. “You’re more than welcome to use it if you’d like.”
Then he crossed the room and casually leaned against the wall opposite my bed.
“What are you doing?”
His lips curved into a mischievous grin. What had gotten into him? Was he hoping that if he stayed long enough, I’d invite him into my bed? That something more might happen?
Or was he afraid of being alone? It was nearly impossible for either of us to sleep without the other, but it was a big enough risk to sneak into my room in Renoa. If someone caught him spending the night with me here, there would be more questions than we could answer.
As I stood trying to figure out what he was thinking, a dark outline appeared—two lines starting from the floor and moving upward on either side of him until they curved inward and met at a peak above his head.
As soon as the lines connected, a full door formed behind him.
My jaw dropped. “What is that?”
Ladon pushed away from the wall and laid one hand on the door.
It disintegrated just as easily as it had formed, but this time, the wall did not reappear.
This time, an opening was left where the door had been, and inside, I could see another bedroom, similar to mine in its simplicity but full of personal belongings. Like someone actually lived there.
“Your room is my guest suite,” he said. “The connection is for convenience, but only if I allow it to be used.”
Because it would be unwise to give just anyone access to his room, I surmised. The guests he had while on duty in Fort Malek varied from friend to foe, and the last thing he needed was to wake in the middle of the night with a knife held to his throat.
He walked through the doorway, and I followed, curious to get a better look at his bedroom here in Fort Malek. To see what glimpse it offered into the man I’d come to know.
The first thing I noticed was the walls.
They were a matching blue to that in my room, but his were covered in paintings.
Some were dark and frightening, and studying them made my heart race.
Others were warmer, using reds and yellows that seemed to elicit hope and strength.
Each of them depicted various scenery—the harsh mountains that bordered Osavian, the beaches back in Renoa, the forests surrounding Fort Malek.
I inspected the one to my immediate right, the brush strokes visible even in the dim light. In the bottom left corner, there were two initials.
L.C.
“You painted all these?” I asked.
Ladon’s body slid into position behind me, his hands finding my hips and pulling me into his chest. He kissed the spot below my ear with such gentleness I thought I might melt.
“I did,” he whispered.
“I never would’ve suspected you to be an artist.”
I felt him shrug behind me. “These are old. I don’t paint anymore.”
“Why not?” I asked, spinning in his hold so I could see his face.
He shook his head, and his hair fell loosely over his forehead.
“It was an exercise my mind healer gave me to cope with my father’s passing.
I enjoyed it for a while, but the older I got, the less time I had for it.
Most of these I did on rainy days when there wasn’t much to do.
I honestly can’t remember the last time I painted a scene. ”
“You should start again. You’re quite talented,” I said. “Have you ever painted people? Or only landscapes?”
Ladon flashed a devious grin that sent heat rushing through my body. “I’ve never tried to paint someone, but I’d be willing to learn. Are you volunteering to be my muse?”
“What would that require?”
His eyes took a trip down my body and then back up to meet my gaze. “Long hours. Just the two of us. In order to understand the proper proportions, you’d need minimal clothing. Maybe nothing at all.”
I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Tempting.”
He looked at me as if he were ready to get started this moment, but I turned back toward my bedroom. I couldn’t get swept up in his cyclone—not yet, at least.
“Emilie,” he said from behind me.
I hesitated in the doorway. “Yes?”
“Stay with me.”