Chapter 10
The Many Staircases Of Brightfort
“The King of All has requested your presence.”
Eiko dropped her fork. That voice was way too close. That voice was standing at the end of her table.
What the hell did the king want with Rion?
“Both of you,” the voice said.
Eiko whispered, “Who else is sitting with us?” across the table to Rion.
“I think he means—” Rion began, but the voice cut her off.
“The King of All requests the presence of the noble maids, Rion Shulin and Eiko Menai. Immediately, if it pleases you.”
“Oh,” Eiko nervously gripped a bread roll, determined not to part with her entire meal. “Are we noble maids now?”
“Eiko, stop,” Rion hissed nervously, hastily rising—this time with an accidental cluttering of cutlery—before tugging Eiko from her seat.
Eiko allowed herself to be pulled from the room, her cane anxiously trailing the ground while Rion followed the too-fast— Who are we following?
Hymn? She tried calling for the little monster again.
This time, he must have sensed her urgency, and she could feel him rousing, his body unfurling from somewhere inside her chest.
Hmm? he asked sleepily.
Who are we following? she asked. He summoned us to the King of All.
A castle attendant, Hymn replied, much more alert now. Not a general one. His uniform is trimmed in gold. I think he’s a royal attendant.
“You two as well?” Vana called out from somewhere in the stone courtyard at the front of the barracks. “I was wondering who else he was fetching.”
“Did he call you a noble maid too?” Eiko asked, once they were close enough.
Vana didn’t answer, even though Eiko could hear her skipping footsteps following along with them. And then the muttering started up again.
“Women and girls, that’s what he likes. That’s what I’ve heard. Women and girls.”
Eiko chewed on her tongue. Hymn?
I … don’t know if that’s true. Hymn sounded worried.
The last time I came to the island, Grigori Goldmoor was just a child.
His father, King Luis, would call girls to his quarters, whether they wanted to be there or not.
They weren’t allowed to leave until he was done with them.
But people didn’t seem to know about that.
Delightful, Eiko bit out.
The attendant led them out of the barracks, through a set of gates, down a narrow stone staircase, and along a cobbled path that seemed to connect with the castle grounds, evidenced as Eiko found herself surrounded by those happy, tinkling noises again.
Bright chatter in the sunshine. Bubbling fountains and soft giggles.
The clink of men at relaxed play with their swords.
Genteel laughter snatched up by the breeze. Pollen scenting the air.
A dark-be-damned butterfly even landed on her cheek.
A nearby fountain misted her other cheek as they turned, and the sound of their footsteps became more echoey, bouncing off walls, though it must have been an atrium-style ceiling above them, as Eiko could still feel filtered sunlight.
Cue a billion more staircases.
How big is this castle? she asked Hymn in wonder, her calves and thighs burning hotly with fatigue. A little too late, she realised she was still clutching a bread roll in her free hand, and she began to snack on it for energy.
Rion leaned close, apparently recovering from the shock of her summoning enough to narrate their passageway.
“The walls have gold panels,” she whispered.
“Like pure gold, Eiko. The walls facing outside are all glass, and parts of the ceiling are made of glass too. It’s so bright in here.
Even the decorations are gold, and there are gemstones everywhere. There’s so much light.”
“This is Brightfort,” the attendant said, a bit snootily, overhearing Rion’s whispered descriptions.
“The most expansive keep in Lyra. It has been the seat of the royal family for three hundred years and has undergone five significant renovations, including the addition of the famous Copperlight Tower, a project started by King Luis and completed by King Grigori thirty years ago.”
Eiko didn’t care. She just wanted to know what it all looked like, but the attendant seemed far more interested in schooling them on renovations, restorations, and the historical significance of every damn room they walked through.
Eiko was glad when the screaming pain in her legs became so bad that she could no longer focus enough to hear a thing he was saying.
“Please take a seat,” he instructed, as they arrived in a carpeted room—just as warm and bright as every other room.
“Oh, thank the sun,” Eiko whispered, reaching towards the nearest piece of furniture that her cane knocked up against.
“Not there,” the attendant said, just as she sank into a plush armchair.
“I don’t think I can stand again,” she told him honestly.
“Oh, leave the girl alone,” a booming voice bounced through the room, deep and jovial.
“Your Grace,” the attendant stuttered out, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you—”
“Fetch us some tea, will you?” King Grigori said. “And some cakes—that is, if you’re done with your snack, Lady Eiko?”
Eiko felt like her neck was awkwardly squeaking as she turned towards the king’s booming voice, her mouth a little unhinged.
“Your Grace.” She quickly bounced up to her feet, pain shooting from her hips all the way down to her toes. “Yes, I’m … uh.” She shoved the bread roll into her pocket and dipped into a hasty curtsy, hearing the sounds of Rion and Vana doing the same, as they both politely greeted him.
He remembered her name.
The King of All remembered her name!
There was a short knock at the door, which had the attendant making a few hurried, repeated motions that may have been bows, if the rustle of his clothing and the intonation in his “Right away, your Grace” was anything to go by. He hurried to the door and opened it.
“Your Grace, may I present Prince Corvan and Prince Ceran—”
“Eiko,” Rion whisper-hissed, quiet enough that the others might not hear.
Eiko moved towards Rion, allowing herself to be pulled towards a different seat—a chaise that Rion and Vana seemed to be sharing. She was wedged between the two of them just as they both dipped into curtsies. Eiko copied them a second too late.
“Your Graces,” they both demurred, at almost the exact same time.
“Your Graces,” Eiko quickly said.
“Good sun, that one is talking to the wall,” one of the princes muttered.
Eiko adjusted to better face his voice, but the damn man was already moving, long strides carrying him across the room.
“Where in the blasted darkness is Chasin?” King Grigori growled, some of his jovial boom quieting into a sharp edge. “I sent for him hours ago.”
“I believe he was still on the clifftop until very recently,” a velvety voice replied.
Eiko canted her head towards it instinctively, her brows drawing together.
She had sat at the Lord and Lady of Stonesigh’s dinner table only weeks ago and heard that voice, but hearing it again was a very strange experience.
The dinner itself felt like a lifetime ago.
A completely different world. So much had happened in a matter of weeks.
And yet it felt like only yesterday that she had heard that velvety, silky tone.
She hadn’t realised it had left that much of an impression on her, but apparently it had.
Every other detail of that dinner was greyed out, blurred in sound and texture and feeling.
Everything except that voice. Prince Ceran, for some reason, remained crystal clear in her recollection.
She could remember each of the sparse words he had lazily offered, and she could remember them perfectly.
“With who?” the king demanded, sounding … what was that? Intrigue? Greed? She couldn’t understand the emotion in his voice.
“The blind girl,” Ceran replied. The middle prince had moved closer to her. His footsteps were softer than Corvan’s, but not as whisper-quiet as Chasin’s. “We meet again,” he said plainly.
She could tell he was assessing her. Her skin prickled as he stared.
But he didn’t stay there long, and didn’t wait for a reply, moving instead to take a seat.
As soon as he settled, he must have made some sort of motion, as Rion and Vana quickly reclaimed their seats, with Rion subtly pulling Eiko down with her.
“You’ve met before?” The king had paused his pacing on the other side of the room, and he now drew closer. “When?”
So King Grigori didn’t remember her name. He didn’t remember her at all. Someone must have supplied her name after he enquired about it—for whatever mysterious reason he had.
“Lord Erendi’s dinner,” Corvan suddenly announced with a click of his fingers as he settled near Ceran. “I thought she looked familiar. Couldn’t place her.”
“The girl from Stonesigh who refused a Silencing.” The king was scraping his fingers across his stubble as he stood over them, and just like with Ceran, she could feel the weight of his stare.
“Interesting. And with the strongest monster, no doubt, if you were up on that cliff for so long—where in the blasted Quiet is my son?” he suddenly barked.
“He should have come straight here to debrief me.”
“Probably eating and pissing, finally,” Corvan muttered. “Don’t know how he does that every year.”
The door flew open, and Chasin’s booted steps were barely audible over the rushing and shuffling of a second person.
“Your Graces.” It was the attendant again. “Please allow me to p-pres—”
Chasin must have spoken with his hands.
I think he said something like “I’m here,” or maybe “you sent for me, here I am,” Hymn told her. At a guess.
“I sent for you hours ago,” the king responded sharply. “Now tell me about the girls.” After a pause. “Yes, I’m aware they’re in the room.”
Eiko sat there stiffly. She was getting sick of being called a girl. Ever since she boarded the Kingsweep, it was “blind girl” this and “recruit” that. Small she may be, but …