Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
My pace is brisk as I head back to the suite I’m sharing with Chase. Or, rather, the suite I’m sharing for one more night.
I grimace, pushing down an uncomfortable combination of regret and longing.
Regret because I know Chase will be hurt by the betrothal.
Longing because it turns out I’m a total slut-puppy who really and truly wants both these men.
And I need to quit dwelling on that and just deal with the new reality that is my life.
Right, I think, forcing both men out of my mind and turning to more practical thoughts.
Like getting familiar with the castle, even though I fully intend to get the hell out of here after tomorrow’s ceremony.
Like the Beatles, I want to get back to where I belong. To Tia and college and my normal life.
As I walk, I glance around, taking in the high ceilings and the massive hearth with a roaring fire.
From what I can see, there’s no actual wood in the fireplace, so there’s a question.
And the shadows that twist along the floor before getting lost against the dark walls don’t seem to be cast from anything solid.
For that matter, they seem strangely alive.
Okay, then…
I take a step away from the shadows. Then another one, just for good measure.
I take another look around from this new vantage point and see the tapestries hanging above the hearth, some looking like battle scenes, others like maps. The largest shows a dragon mid-flight, its wings spread wide.
Tears prick my eyes as I recall the night I’d witnessed Adric saying goodbye to his favorite dragon, a beautiful creature who’d flown away to wherever it is that ancient dragons go to die. It was, I think, the first real moment of humanity I’d seen in Adric, and that memory still lives in my heart.
Goodbye Soren, I think, only then noticing who’s standing beneath the dragon’s image.
Kali.
Oh, joy.
She’s giving orders to a woman in the crisp, black uniform of the castle’s security staff, and I hurry toward the hallway that leads to my suite, hoping I can get there before she notices me.
No such luck.
“Little human,” Kali says, aborting my escape.
I turn toward the hearth and force a polite smile.
“Kali.” She moves to stand in front of the flames, and the fire throws her shadow halfway across the room, making her look even taller than she is.
Her obsidian armor gleams in the firelight, catching and releasing the glow like something fresh off the set of Game of Thrones.
It’s the same outfit every time I’ve seen her, and I have to fight a snort as I imagine my best friend Tia leaning over to whisper in my ear—Hello, variety? Someone get that woman a gift card.
God, I miss that girl. Right now, she’d take one look at my face and drag me to the nearest coffee shop and not let me leave until I’d told her everything—including the parts I can barely admit to myself.
I duck my head, then angle away from Kali as I pretty much trot toward the archway that leads to Chase. With luck, that will be my fill of Kali for the day.
Except, no. I must have used up my quota of luck when I found the cure for Chase, because she sidles up to me with the kind of fluid grace that seems impossible in her armor. And makes me acutely aware of my own bare feet and rumpled dress.
I don’t bother with a smile. Kali knows I can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual, as proved by the way she runs her eyes over me, her expression much like my mom’s when the cat once dragged a half-dead mouse inside. “You’re awake,” she says.
“Now I see why Adric keeps you around. You have amazing powers of observation.” I smile with exaggerated sweetness, then add, “Couldn’t sleep.” Because, honestly, why poke the beast?
Except, of course, I’m going to poke the beast. “I thought I’d explore the castle,” I say into the lingering silence. “And I’m pretty sure a queen can go where she pleases.”
Kali’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts behind her eyes.
She says nothing, though, and I know I should hold my tongue, too.
Except, of course, I don’t. “I went down and saw the dragons,” I tell her.
But I’m sane enough to leave out the part where the king and I had sex near the stables.
“I’m not particularly interested in your comings and goings,” she says.
“No? Because my going was particularly interesting. I checked out the architecture on the walk back. That terrace with the red stonework, for example. The one just past where the path curves. It’s stunning. And I bet it has a great view of the grounds.”
Her brows rise maybe a millimeter. “You’re interested in castellology?”
“I love learning about most anything,” I say sweetly. “Right now, I’m hoping to learn who that was with you on the terrace.”
I know I’ve scored a point when the only sound is the crackle of the fire behind her.
“The woman standing on the terrace with you,” I press, taking one step toward her. “Who is she?”
For a moment, I think she won’t answer. Her violet eyes hold mine with a predatory stillness, and her armor gleams as the fire pops.
Then her mouth curves into the kind of smile that translates to Fuck You. “One of our librarians,” she says, her voice flat. Almost bored. As if my question disappointed her.
“Seriously?” That is so not the answer I’d expected. Not that I’d actually had a clue what to expect.
“The household is larger than you think, Little Bride. You’ve met only the tiniest slice of the castle’s residents.
Maren often comes to the terrace in the evenings.
She works in the stacks and appreciates a respite outdoors.
” She tilts her head, the tiniest of smiles tugging at her lips. “Shall I call her?”
I’m about to say no when I think of Uncle Finn in that very library, oblivious to everything except whatever ancient text he’s buried in. He thinks this is all a wonderful dream. And for all I know, Maren is helping to keep that delusion alive. So, yeah. I want to meet this woman.
The moment I nod, Kali lifts a hand, presumably giving an order to fetch her.
Then she smiles, as if we’re just two gal pals hanging out together. “This realm is beautiful, is it not?”
I almost don’t answer, but this is Adric’s home.
And, I guess, my home now, too. “It is,” I say, and mean it.
Yes, the Nightmare Realm is eerie and dangerous, but it’s stunning, too.
The way the moons paint the sand. The majesty of the dunes rising against that impossible sky.
I can’t deny the pull of this place. And, strangely, it’s a place that feels like mine. Like it’s been waiting for me.
Maybe it has.
Maybe I do belong here.
I’m the emperor’s heir, after all, even though I’m still not entirely sure what that means for me.
I mean, he’s my great-grandfather a billion times removed.
Hardly a cuddly grandpa who played horsie with little me.
That was something I didn’t have at all.
No grandparents. No father, for that matter.
This isn’t my life. I may not have known any relatives other than Mom, but I grew up in sunshine, not shadows. I’m not a queen or an empress or anyone powerful like that.
On the contrary, I’m a coffee-drinking, book-toting freshman, and I belong at St. Augustine College.
And those are two truths that really don’t mesh.
Except maybe they do…
I’ve been lost in my thoughts, and I only now notice that a woman is moving briskly toward us—the same woman I saw on the terrace. Her reddish-brown hair gleams in the firelight, similar to mine, albeit a shade darker. And her slow smile is so, so familiar.
She’s dressed in a long, gray tunic, practical shoes, no armor, and no jewelry.
And, yes, I can see how I might have turned this stranger into the mother I miss so much, even though the differences are so obvious to me now. Her face is rounder, her eyes dark where my mother’s were warm brown.
But it’s the woman herself who truly destroys the illusion. She stands with her hands clasped and her head bowed. But Cassie Lyte deferred to no one. It was one of the things I loved most about her, and one of the things that made growing up with her feel like being raised by a beautiful hurricane.
Kali tilts her head. “You seem disappointed.”
“No,” I say, and it’s not a lie. As much as I want my mother back, if she’d been on that terrace tonight, then everything I thought I understood about my life would be wrong. And frankly, I’ve had enough of my beliefs being twisted and turned to last a lifetime.
As if she’s read my mind, Kali dismisses Maren with a flick of her wrist.
Maren dips her head and disappears back down the hall without a sound as I glance around, wondering how many people in this castle move through their days like that—efficient and invisible unless summoned.
“About this realm,” I begin, turning back to Kali. “Chase calls it the Nightmare Realm. Does that mean—I mean, do people see things here? Strange or scary things that aren’t real?”
“Of course,” she says, and I feel like an eight-year-old who’s asked if the sky is blue.
“This realm feeds on fear. On longing. On every emotion that might burn deep enough through you to keep a piece. The creatures here are real—the mares, the shadow-born, the beasts in the desert. They are real,” she repeats, “and they reflect what you bring with you.”
Her eyes slide over me, her expression bland. “You lost someone.”
“Yes.”
“Then you may see them in corridors. In reflections. Grief is the castle’s crack. It craves it. Longs for it. And turns it around before returning it.”
Her expression softens, and for a single, disarming moment, she looks almost kind. As if she understands grief, too.
Or maybe this is just one of her tricks—mirroring the emotion she sees in me, so I’ll trust her enough to stop asking questions.
“Don’t chase those visions,” she says, her voice almost gentle. “Some guests have lost themselves here, chasing reflections.”
“Right. Got it,” I say, happier than I should be about creepy visions. But creepy visions are a hell of a lot better than the idea of my dead mother actually standing on a terrace in the Nightmare Realm, having a chat with the Nightmare King’s second-in-command.
“Thank you,” I say.
Kali inclines her head. “Rest. The betrothal ceremony is in the morning. You should look like a bride, not a ghost.”
I laugh. And in that moment, I wonder if there’s a universe in which I might have actually liked Kali.