CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO #2
Evylin rolled her eyes at her sister before turning to face Vayden. “When did you get here?” she asked.
“This morning,” he said. “We could have pushed hard the night before and made it but figured there was no real rush. It was a short trip over from Blaucklake, so we managed it in a couple of hours.”
“I take it you haven’t found any good taverns yet, then?” Thom asked, nudging his friend’s arm.
Vayden laughed but pointed to Cris. “Not yet, but we’ve got a local here who I’m sure would be more than pleased to show us the sights.”
“Perhaps another time,” Gisele said, then motioned to the hall awaiting them. “For now, we still have a ways to go.”
Vayden and Cris promised to see them at dinner, calling goodbyes as they followed Gisele.
The clerk escorted them deeper into the palace.
They traversed an arched hallway that seemed to extend forever, ascended four flights of stairs, and continued around the palace.
As they climbed, the exquisite design remained consistent.
Warm light streamed through the windows in radiant beams, gently illuminating the cream-colored stone interior.
Allundan banners appeared throughout without seeming gaudy or out of place.
Gisele reduced her pace as the hall concluded with double doors guarded by two Allundan soldiers.
Observing the group, the guards swung open the doors, allowing the clerk to guide them into the spacious chamber beyond.
Mirroring the city’s grandeur, the room featured towering columns, painted ceilings, and multiple windows along the far right wall.
Three couches flanked a sizable fireplace, and a large golden chandelier hung overhead, its candles flickering softly.
To the immediate left, there were two doors leading off the room, while a narrower hallway extended from across the way.
Above the fireplace hung a large painting depicting an obsidian sky adorned with silver and golden starlight, cerulean and crimson nebulae, and amber shadows. The room featured a thick rug, plush pillows, onyx curtains, black marble vases, and various décor, which echoed the theme of Space.
Evylin felt Deckard tense beside her.
“Welcome to your chambers,” Gisele said, folding her hands in front of her as she paused just inside the door.
“This apartment is designed to accommodate esteemed guests from the Loclight province of East Allund. To your left is a study and a storage room, while the bedrooms and bathing chambers are down the hall. Your belongings will arrive shortly, but if you find anything missing or need assistance, please let one of the servants or your guards know, and we will ensure you are taken care of.”
As she spoke, a middle-aged woman emerged from the hall. Her dark brown hair was styled in a bun, and her round face radiated friendliness. She wore an outfit like that of the clerk, but she also sported an ivory apron embroidered with a patch of the same colorful pattern instead of a brooch.
“Hello,” the woman said warmly, her accent unmistakably Ephrian. “I’m Lora Wilumson, the head of staff for the Loclight apartments. If you need anything at all, please feel free to ask me.”
Evylin smiled, though her excitement waned as Deckard’s whirlwind of emotions tugged at her heart.
Aulton was magnificent and awe-inspiring, the palace stunningly surreal, their apartment extravagantly lavish, and the people inside delightful.
Yet, she couldn’t enjoy it, knowing of his growing discomfort.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Deckard said politely.
“Dinner will start at seven,” Gisele informed them. “As Mr. Calder mentioned, the palace is a bit of a maze when you aren’t used to it, so I’ll be back to escort you to the dining hall. Until then, take your time, get comfortable, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”
With that, the clerk walked out the doors, and the guards shut them behind her.
“Now then,” the head of staff said, stepping closer.
“There are eight rooms in the apartment, all ready for occupancy. Those men should have your things up in no time, so we’ll need to know where you want us to put them.
I’ve also got the two baths drawn up and ready with hot water.
Those Fire and Terrae Mages managed some kind of heating system, so it won’t take long to get the rest of you cleaned up as well. Who would like to go first?”
The five of them exchanged amused and amazed glances.
Evylin stepped forward. “Mrs. Wilumson?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Perhaps you could give us a quick tour of the apartment first, and then we’ll make our decisions about rooms and who will freshen up first.”
The woman complied and led them through the hall, cheerfully showcasing each bedroom, even though they were identical, as well as the two bathing chambers.
Every room mirrored the parlor’s design with onyx, ivory, and crystal elements.
A servant’s entrance was located at the back of the hall for more convenient cleanup and service.
Thom chose the first room closest to the parlor. Brea opted for the room two doors away, and Calyn chose the one right next to hers. Deckard let Evylin decide, so she settled on the room at the far end of the hall, which provided ample separation from the group.
In the following hours, additional staff members arrived to ensure that their visit was graciously accommodated with refreshments and snacks.
After all five guests had refreshed themselves, they replenished the bathroom linens, rekindled the fires in the bedrooms and the parlor, and departed with a reassurance that they would remain merely a call away.
Evylin closed the bedroom door after the last servant left and turned to find Deckard standing before the fire, rubbing his clean-shaven jaw.
His hair was damp from his bath, and he wore a tunic loose over his trousers, but she could sense the weight in his heart.
All throughout their journey to Aulton, which had taken a little under a week, she’d sensed this discontentment radiating from him.
She knew it had something to do with his doubts about the Alliance, but she hadn’t pressed him, understanding his need to process in solitude before explaining his heart.
Evylin stepped around the settee to stand behind him and wrap her arms around his waist. Given their height difference, she had to rise onto her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. “You’re pouting, my love,” she whispered teasingly.
A slight sense of gratitude pulsed out of him as he settled his hands over hers. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She ran her thumbs along the bottom of his ribcage. “You don’t need to be. You’re uncertain, and that’s understandable.”
“They’re just so . . . good. And gracious. Everyone here is happy. Too happy, almost. It can’t be real.”
Evylin peered up at him. “You’re upset because they’re too nice?”
“It’s foolish, I know.”
After a moment of studying him, his brows notably pinched together, she smirked. “You think they’ll ask us to take over Loclight as chancellor and commander?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose that’s a fair assumption, but I fail to see the problem. We’ve already agreed to say no.”
Deckard shifted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side and look down at her. “We did,” he said. “Is that still what you want?”
Evylin held his gaze steadily. She hadn’t abandoned the quest she’d taken up in Whickam Village.
She’d made a second vow at Ryen’s graveside: to prove Deckard’s worth to him—to show him he was loved.
Their mission and work with the Alliance had taken precedence, but she never forgot.
And she was slowly working to earn his unwavering trust as he had with her.
Because that was something Evylin had learned about her husband. No matter how caring and noble he was, he didn’t fully trust her. He loved her, but he feared offering her the darkest parts of his soul.
Reaching up to kiss his cheek, Evylin said, “I want what you want.”
Deckard smirked in disbelief.
She tugged on the hem of his tunic. “Jonn,” she said gently, “you said it yourself: The Alliance is good. They won’t press us into service.”
He stared at the fire abjectly, his thumb tracing circles on her bicep.
Evylin narrowed her gaze, trying to understand the disappointment within him. Why should their goodness worry him? If he truly wanted to be free of the responsibility that came with the position—which she wasn’t convinced of—then shouldn’t he take their honorable nature as a boon?
The absurdity of the truth hit Evylin, and she chuckled. “Oh, Jonn.”
“What?” he asked, clearly surprised by her affectionate mirth.
She gave him a wry grin. “You don’t want them to be good because, if they are, you’ll feel bad saying no.”
Deckard pressed his lips together, a self-derisive humor easing the discomfort within him. “I don’t like you,” he bantered.
“Mm, but you love me.”
“That I do.”
Deckard leaned down and kissed her, but she pulled away before he could make it any more passionate.
“Now,” she said brightly, “stop worrying. We’re in an impossible palace surrounded by our friends and what’s sure to be a feast like no other.
Whatever the Alliance asks of us, we’ll tackle those challenges later.
For now, can you enjoy being here? With me? With our friends?”
Though there was a tinge of hesitation from him, Deckard smiled. “I’ll do my best.”