CHAPTER I #3
The Discerni moves without a word, leaving me to follow him to our meeting with his father.
We make our way to the outer steps of Castle Bardot’s east wing and walk through the doors to an extremely long hall, the two of us passing by residents and staff who peer back at us in curiosity.
It’s a long walk, as the castle fashions itself east to west as opposed to towering in height, but eventually the Prince stops at the end of the hall and redirects us to an archway near the Grand Entrance, the dark opening flanked by two of the castle guards.
Desmond nods to one of the men before jutting his chin in my direction.
The guard watches me quietly as I follow behind the Master Informer and the two of us step into a dimly illuminated spiral staircase that ascends up the castle.
We walk in silence up three set of floors before stopping in front of an intricate door that blocks the fourth, the sturdy wood hindering our entrance to a section of the castle I’ve never dared to venture before.
Desmond reaches out and presses his hand against the door with ease, his palm landing on the engraved emblem of the Court of Knowledge.
The moment his skin touches the encircled oak, the emblem flashes a lively gold and then a stronger black before swinging open on its own accord.
He walks through the threshold easily, no doubt familiar with this private level, while I let out a deep breath before shaking my head.
The fourth floor is the Royal Family’s personal floor.
I shouldn’t be here.
Ancients, I really shouldn’t be here.
The space is too luxurious. Too lavish for the likes of me.
There’s intricate golden accents woven into the greenstone walls, as if someone purposely added a gold sparkle to the stone to heighten it’s already colorful beauty.
Rich pines and cedars and oaks line the entirety of the room, their brown limbs plaited into intricate braids that twist and turn in a complicated weave against every single one of the walls.
Leaves of green that are the most beautiful shade of emerald sway from the ceiling, some falling in a gentle tumble like they would in our forests.
I’m not even a foot into the fourth floor and I can already tell that it’s the most gorgeous space I’ve ever seen, and if I thought the castle downstairs was absolutely stunning, I now know that it’s nothing compared to this private residence for the royal family.
The whole floor puts the castle downstairs to shame.
I timidly follow Desmond into a massive receiving room, the area littered with lounge chairs and settees of the finest fabrics, their colors varying from different shades of green and brown.
Lanterns of bottled moonslight adorn the greenstone walls around the seats, the fixtures sparkling with such a bright light that it makes every corner of the room shine as if dusted with crystals.
Everything is just beautiful and serene, a perfect place to host guests or spend your day reading until the sun goes down, but as beautiful as the room is, it’s far too big for a family of six.
There’s enough seats here to comfortably fit twenty people and all of them look desperately unused.
That, coupled with the serene silence that echoes with the Prince’s step as he walks past the chairs, almost makes the whole space seem a bit forlorn.
I don’t know what prompts me… maybe the feeling of loneliness that surrounds the full of this pristine room and my need to give it some love… but my feet carry me to the brightest of light shining against all of the settees, towards the most spectacular use of stained glass windows I’ve ever seen.
“Oh,” I smile quietly, lifting on my toes.
The view before me is of the entry of Bardot. Of the village town and the rose gardens and the Bell Grove. It’s the best view I’ve ever seen, as if someone noted the loneliness in this massive room and decided to carve out a view to the outside so they could-
“-Come, Lady Alexis.”
I sigh and turn to the Master Informer without shame, watching as he narrows his gaze on me from the other side of the room.
His silent glance is questioning why I’m nosing around and not staying by his side, while my answering shrug provides no real reason and does nothing to change his penetrating glare.
“Do not wander again.”
I nod and follow him into the west wing, my curiosity still getting the best of me.
I let my gaze pry into the royal residence on this side, staring into a small room that has a decadent desk with books strewn on top.
It looks to be a cozy study complete with a roaring fireplace, and there’s even a second room that’s attached to it, that one acting as a small lounge area with a table built for cards as its main centerpiece.
Past those two rooms is another with soft grey walls and a luxurious white feather bed, the entirety of it looking dainty and possibly decorated with a woman’s touch.
The next room seems to be a meeting space of sorts, the high walls covered in hundreds of vines and reaching out to a large table that rests in the middle.
The last in the hall, and perhaps the room that grabs my attention the most, has a massive black bed that looks like it hasn’t been touched in ages, the sheets sparkling in their dark silk and almost begging to be used.
I quickly avert my eyes.
I don’t belong here.
Desmond stops at the end of the hall, knocking twice on a large circular door just as my shoulders begin to tense.
I fiddle with my hair, hands rising to the half up, half down locks that are wind-ridden from the ride over.
I can’t stop the groan that falls from my lips as I take in the mess and frantically start to pat at the tangles before moving on to my green satin shirt.
Shit.
“My dagger is strapped,” I hiss at Master Informer just as the door opens.
Desmond turns around silently, his dark eyes flicking down to my boots before they roam between my thighs.
“Where?”
I scowl at his gaze.
“My bicep, Prince Desmond.”
“I see,” he nods slowly, “and what do you think you could possibly do with that weapon in front of me?”
You…
As in human.
I narrow my eyes on the Discerni Prince who obviously knows nothing about my use of a dagger. If he did, he’d think twice about letting me in a room so close with the King.
Desmond turns around and walks through the door without another word. I sigh and take deep breath before following behind him, stepping into a circular room that matches the door at its front.
Blessed Ancients, the Discerni move fast.
Within a single step, Desmond is already seated at a large desk directly across from me.
“We do move fast,” the King’s amused voice replies from behind the desk, “and no, Alex, my son does not know anything about you or your use with a dagger. Why don’t you show him what you can do?”
In the small moment it takes for the King’s gaze to drop to the side of Desmond’s chair, I quickly pull the dagger out from under my sleeve and throw it at the Master Informer.
Desmond turns his head at the sound of the green agate flying through the room, his own gaze dropping to where the weapon pierces the wooden armrest just below his elbow.
Perfect.
The Discerni Prince pulls the blade out of the chair with a deep scowl, his quiet gaze examining the dagger as I walk towards both men.
“How long?” he asks quietly.
“Two years,” the King grins.
I smile as well and take in the meeting space around us.
We’re definitely in a circular room of sorts, perhaps one of the small towers that can be seen from outside the castle at each end of the wings.
The middle is furnished with a plush emerald rug that lays beneath a small but rich mahogany table, both the rug and table surrounded by brown cushioned chairs and settees that look immensely expensive.
Past the middle lounge and pressed into the wall behind it are another three high arching windows similar to those in the reception area.
The King’s desk is stationed directly in front of them.
Zander catches my curious gaze, his blue eyes smiling in welcome before he nods to the empty chair at Desmond’s right.
“This blade is made of green agate,” Desmond scowls again.
He holds my dagger tight in his hand as I take the seat next to him, his eyes focused on his father with just a hint of demand.
“It is,” the King nods, “Alexis been handling it with my blessing.”
I hide my next smile and reach towards the Prince, silently asking for the blade to be returned.
Desmond stares at his father for a moment longer before he hands me the hilt, his previous look of demand disappearing behind the typical Discerni mask of indifference.
I secure the blade back under my shirt sleeve and shift in my seat to face the King.
King Zander Bardot of the Kingdom of Disce, Leading Lord of the Court of Knowledge.
His blue eyes are kind as they look back at mine, his gaze framed by dark lashes and brows that sit gently against his lightly tanned skin.
A few wrinkles rest on his forehead that are just barely there, his brown hair peppered along the top with a tinge of white that, again, just barely streaks through.
He’s much older than he looks, with his leaf-shaped ears a tad longer than Desmond’s, an indication of the many years behind a Discerni.
And despite King Zander’s age, he still looks good.
Handsome, even. Still the same man I remember since I was fourteen.