Chapter 26
With big eyes, I observed Ireas channeling his magic to form one of those portals I’d only seen once for a fleeting moment, back then, before Dion had shadowwalked us to Amalach.
Today was very different.
In mere moments, I’d leave Ivreia behind, and even though I tried, I couldn’t hide my nervousness. Dion grabbed my fidgeting hand and squeezed, taking care not to use too much of the force he had in abundance.
“You’re skittish,” he purred, and I glared at him.
“Rightfully so.”
“Listen, Naya. You’re fine, as long as you remember what I’ve told you. I’m expected to be—”
“I know, I know. You’ll be playing a role, and so will I.” What had my stomach in knots was the prospect of meeting his grandfather, not him treating me like dirt in public. If I constantly reminded myself of the ruse, I’d be able to keep my big mouth shut. At least, I hoped I could.
Although I’d met Queen Anneria of Ivreia—my queen, so to speak—a few days ago, the High King of Galanta was a different story.
If he were only half as bad as the males wanted me to believe, he would be more monster than anything else.
And when I considered how most fae—their king included—looked down on or downright loathed humans, being uneasy was a normal reaction, in my opinion.
My gaze returned to the almost-finished portal shimmering in the secluded courtyard that the Ivreian royals had blocked off for us, and the urge to run away became stronger with every beat of my heart.
On top of the dangerous situation we’d walk into willingly, the hangover, courtesy of last night’s party, didn’t help my overall condition.
Dion pressed my hand again, and I wondered if the bauble he’d acquired from Ireas earlier would do its task as intended.
The prince had explained that the medic had imbued the marble with some of his magic, and according to the two males, the sphere could apply light Glamours—like covering up the giant mark Dion had left on my neck. Also, the colors under my collarbone.
He still refused to explain details of those to me, apart from his initial statement that I had been marked by magic. But there must be more behind the whole affair; why else did he deem hiding the broken lines and swirls necessary?
However, he’d glamoured whatever the design was as well and ordered me to keep its existence a secret by all means without exception. Absolutely unsuspicious. Not.
Another thing I’d worried about had been a practical issue.
While Dion and the others spoke perfect Ivreian, I couldn’t expect everyone in Galanta to do the same.
But Dion had just laughed and revealed I’d be capable of understanding Galantian just fine, a side effect of our binding.
Not reading, speaking, or writing, but I didn’t care.
At least I would be able to follow conversations.
“You can’t openly disrespect me in front of Galrach or his spies.”
“Dion, again. I’m aware. You repeated the rules a thousand times. Not many will pay attention to a measly human anyway.” Wishful thinking, but maybe he’d find some truth in my declaration.
“Unlikely. My grandfather is pissed that I’ve been gone for so long and about the absence of the others as well. Plus, he couldn’t make a spectacle out of our binding. While I don’t think you’ll be in too much danger, you can’t count on being invisible.”
Dipping my chin, I pursed my lips when Dion rummaged in his bag.
“I wanted to give this to you yesterday, but with the party and everything going on, I simply forgot. But I need you to keep this close to you.”
My breath caught as I spotted my midnight blade. Tears welled up as the ball of emotion became too intense to contain. “My dagger. I thought—”
“Thain found your weapon outside Amalach.”
Extending my hand, I reached for the blade Dion once had crafted, sacrificing a permanent drop of his magic. For me. But before I could reclaim the dagger, the prince shook his head.
“Let me. You can’t wear this openly in Alaiann.” With that, he lowered himself to his knees, looked at the heavy fabric of the gown I wore, and glowered for a moment.
Seeing him kneeling in front of me was weird and somehow wrong, yet my heart sped up.
Dion’s scowl normalized as he nodded, seemingly in satisfaction.
He eased up my skirts a few inches, and after a brief inspection of my boots, he dipped his chin another time before slipping the dagger into the left one.
“Not the best spot for a sharp weapon, but since the blade won’t cut you, it’s safe. ”
“Thank you.” My voice was shaky, and I watched as Dion pushed back to his feet, dusting off his pants.
“The portal is completed. It is time.” Antas’ expression was unreadable as usual, but all the males had an uneasy energy wafting around them, even though they donned a certain grim determination as if their attitude alone could protect them from whatever was waiting for them at home.
There was still the possibility of them being arrested for desertion or treason, not to mention the threat the High King had issued. Galrach had imprisoned the soldiers’ loved ones to force my friends to cooperate.
Ireas had told me so much one night in Ivreia when he’d held watch and I couldn’t sleep.
If the High King intended to release the prisoners, or if he planned on keeping them locked away, or worse, no one could predict.
And I had no illusions that there was a good possibility that we, or parts of our group, would end up in the dungeons of the Eternal Palace of Alaiann too.
The only one remotely safe from the High King’s wrath was Dion. After all, he was Galanta’s precious weapon, and his grandfather couldn’t afford to lose him. Dion’s words, not mine.
He was the first to drop his disguise, and his radiant amethyst eyes found mine. “We’re going to be fine,” he said and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled me into an embrace.
Glancing over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Antas, who’d changed forms as well.
Just like Fig, I’d only seen Dion’s uncle in his human Glamour, and my curiosity won over my anxiety, but the prince shifted and blocked my view.
Well, I’d have plenty of time to examine the two males once we’d arrived at our destination.
“Yes. We’ll visit Alaiann, you’ll pacify your grandfather, and we’ll rescue the hostages if he refuses to set them free. In the meantime, we’ll try to learn as much as we can about the Wild Rift situation.” Our plan in a nutshell. All parts were important, but the last one especially so.
Thanks to me, our efforts to save the worlds had been heavily delayed, and although none of us had encountered another tear in reality, there had been at least a few stories circulating in Ivreiana about disappearing animals and humans or the emergence of strange monsters, according to the males.
“Are you coming?” Antas stood in front of the portal, and I realized I’d missed Thain’s, Fig’s, and Ireas’ departure.
My throat burned, and although we’d said goodbye earlier, I wished I could hug Rewi and Bryon one last time, but everyone—including King Pritatus—had agreed that my friends weren’t permitted in the courtyard.
As to why, Fig had voiced his suspicion they could be tempted to follow us, and even I had to admit he made sense. Ugh.
“Yes. Come, Naya. Let’s go.” Dion released me and, with his hand on the small of my back, guided me to the portal.
“Portaling isn’t as unpleasant as shadowwalking.”
“But still bad?”
“Just step through.”
How reassuring. Considering my luck, I’d empty my stomach in front of a battalion of fae—if not the king himself.
“Here goes nothing,” I mumbled to myself and, without further hesitation, trod into the gateway between the worlds.
If Ireas hadn’t pulled me away from the exit, Dion would have crashed into me. Off to a good start.
But everyone had to forgive me for freezing to the spot.
My eyes couldn’t believe what was in front of me. Even the slight squeezy grumbling of my stomach from portaling was secondary as I attempted to come to terms with my surroundings.
I stood on a cobblestoned path framed by fields of grass swaying in the subtle breeze. And the grass—honest to the gods—glittered, and that in a deep emerald color. Unreal.
Sweet, flowery scents I’d never smelled before battled for my attention as I tried to convince my brain that the jewel-mimicking plant life wasn’t only a figment of my overactive imagination.
Not that I succeeded, especially when I turned around. What was rising high into the air a few hundred paces down the road knocked me out.
The royal castle in Ivreiana was a splendid piece of architecture, the excellent craftsmanship visible in every stone, but compared to its fae-sibling, the human pinnacle of housing was nothing more than a hovel.
The Eternal Palace of Alaiann gleamed in the sun, its surface shimmering like a pearl, with hundreds of towers and turrets in varying sizes organically embedded in the primary structure.
Where the human castle was all sharp angles and corners, this palace was constructed to flow, in the absence of a better word.
The walls were rounded, almost whimsical, yet sophisticated.
Colorful flowers had been planted in abundance on all the rooftops, and nature was overflowing, a symphony for the senses reminiscent of a rainbow.
The sight was unreal, plain and simple. Pressure in my chest alerted me to how intense this situation was, and I was unashamed when a few tears rolled down my cheeks. “Your home is so—beautiful.”
I didn’t dare to turn around to find out if I could see the city of Alaiann behind me. The impressions so far had already been too much for me. In between all this beauty, I stuck out like a sore thumb, didn’t matter I wore a heavy velvet dress that had once belonged to an Ivreian courtier.
“Easy on the eye, yes. But there’s more than enough rot on the inside.” Dion had stepped up next to me, and he scanned me from head to toe.
In return, I observed him, his face all hard lines, jaw tight, and the amethyst glow dimmed. “We could still go back, you know?”
But Dion never answered. Instead, as the fierce staccato rhythm of perfectly synchronized steps on cobblestone echoed through the air, an aloof mask settled over his face, and he slid one hand into a pocket of his embroidered tunic.
Eight fae in shiny silver armor, a colorful crest adorning their breastplates, marched in formation toward us, and, out of instinct, I positioned myself half behind Dion. Maybe I was a scared little mouse, but—
No. That picture was painfully accurate.
All the newcomers kept polished swords at the ready, and only as they stopped a few paces in front of us did the males lower their weapons so their tips rested on the ground.
In unison, the fae went on bended knee, one hand settling on their pommels, the other behind their back, and bowed their heads to Dion.
This was a surreal sight.
Holy Triad, he indeed was a prince. The crown prince of this foreign world. Of course, I knew that, but witnessing the scene in front of me transformed theory into reality. Gods, what was I doing here?
“Your Royal Highness Dionadair Dorchadas Coroin De’An Scriosta, Scion of High King Galrach Folus Iadrann, Crown Prince of Galanta, Heir to the Eternal Throne of Alaiann, and Field Marshal of the Endless Legions. Welcome back home. Your return to Alaiann has been expected with anticipation.”
“At ease.” Dion paused for a second, inspecting his fingernails instead of meeting anyone’s eyes. “Airioch.”
Fascinated, I watched the guards straighten, and their stance was tense. Apart from the one called Airioch, no one dared to look at their prince directly.
They…oh. They were afraid of Dion. I glanced at the other males in our company, who stood silently behind us. My friends wore serious expressions, even Thain. The only exception was Fig, who grinned at Airioch.
“Your Royal Highness, I’ll immediately send word of your arrival to His Royal Majesty. There are no directives for you to heed at the moment, so if you wish to freshen up, you’ll find that your quarters have been maintained during your absence.”
Dion acknowledged Airioch’s words before giving me a curt nod. “Come.”
Swallowing the impulse to snap at him, I reminded myself of the roles we both had to play. He was supposed to act like an arrogant bastard—and if I were honest, he didn’t have to pretend; he simply was one. The only difference for me was that I couldn’t push back.
As I swallowed my pride, I followed Dion, who sauntered toward the palace. Two of the guards broke formation and fell in step behind us at a respectful distance.
Surely decorum. No one could seriously believe that the one they called Dark God needed such puny protection.
I craned my neck to the rest of the males, but Dion didn’t hesitate. Instead, he muttered under his breath to me, “The others will report to Airioch, who, by the way, is the head of the Royal Guard at the Eternal Palace. If nothing goes sideways, they’ll return to their rooms afterward as well.”
Peeking at Dion secretly out of the corner of my eye—I didn’t dare to study him directly in case the two guards were monitoring us—I noticed several differences.
He held himself tall as usual, but there was even more arrogance and condescension dripping from him, something that shouldn’t have been possible.
Moving as if he were disgusted to breathe the same air as everyone around him, he portrayed the dangerous, unfeeling weapon of mass destruction to perfection.
The utter boredom layering over everything else was just the final touch.
Glancing behind us, I noticed how the guards still avoided looking at him. Instead, their glowing stares burned into my back with barely veiled disdain. If their behavior were any indication, every warning my friends had given me hadn’t been exaggerated.
Lucky me.