Chapter 56
Fifty-Six
I’ve been at Delamere Castle for less than a full day, and I’ve yet to leave these blasted guest chambers.
At first, it wasn’t so bad, as I quickly found the bathing chamber, crammed with ferns and potted palm plants, resembling an overgrown grotto.
I bathed in a tub larger than a carriage, carved straight into the sandstone floor.
It was absolute bliss, soaking in the luxurious oils, salts, and bubbles as I washed the forest away.
Not long afterward, a silver cart loaded with roasted chicken in capers and cream sauce rolled in for my dinner, along with stationery supplies and a stack of short novels written by a very famous and very romantic succubus halfling.
But now I hesitate, wondering if I should write to Valora to inform her of my safety.
I think better of it when I remember how many times she and Ashland have made it clear that they consider me an outsider and an enemy.
Not to mention, I’m not sure if Empress Erah or Rett will intercept and disapprove of the missive.
So I sit alone, waiting, looking out past the balcony as the sky hazes into evening colors of periwinkle while the sun sets over the ocean.
Clad in a soft velvet dressing robe of the deepest amethyst, I apply jasmine oils to my skin at the dressing table. I’m about to head to bed to relax and read when I hear a short knock. The goblin maid has gone to deliver my measurements to the seamstress, so I hesitantly inch toward the door.
My heart skips.
Would tonight be the night when I confess to him that I don’t want to marry him?
That’s what I want, right?
My tangled thoughts war within myself as I go back and forth on my decision because there’s no denying Rett’s a good friend, exorbitantly rich, and a willing partner.
The fact that he openly cares about me and my problems should mean more than I’ve given him credit for.
I mean, perhaps I should consider the benefits before I throw everything into turmoil.
Who else would offer me the full support of their armies and resources to save Klara, find the missing women, and get rid of Metalla and Balor?
Without him, I’d be lost—or worse, still stuck as Ashland’s captive.
I twist the golden doorknob, and the door swings open, revealing Rett’s dimpled grin. He swoops down to land a slightly sloppy kiss on my cheek as he grabs my waist and spins me before lowering and setting me on my slippered feet.
His wrinkled, tan tunic is fully unbuttoned, revealing his muscled chest, while his suede pants hug his legs, accentuating his form. He smells like the beach—so casual—so relaxed.
Why am I so worried?
Most of the time, he makes being around him easy, as easy as the way he moves or laughs or indulges. If I’m being completely honest, I’m lucky he extends anything to me at all. It hurts that I have to rely on his generosity, but that’s just the way it is, so I need to swallow my pride.
Rett pats his heart devilishly, rocking on his heels and proclaiming, “If you look this lovely every night, I fear I won’t be able to endure it.”
My smile lifts, and my cheeks warm. I hold my dressing gown shut despite his eyes lingering on my cinched hand.
“Did you eat?” he asks, striding into my room. He shrugs off his tunic and stands shirtless.
Blinking, I answer, “Yes, they brought the most delicious food. I haven’t eaten that well in ages.”
“Good. Good.” He unbuttons his pants. “It’s a horribly long walk from the royal quarters to the guest wing, but you’ve got the nicest bathing chambers in the entire palace.”
My eyes widen. “What are you doing? And where have you been all day?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as my feet pad across the plush rug to follow him.
But he strides into the adjoining bathing chamber, discarding his remaining clothes in a crumpled wad on the floor.
His naked form descends into the steaming water.
He scratches his ear, adjusting his piercings.
“I’m washing off. This is the deepest tub in the castle.
My mother loves to show off for her guests and friends, but I, on the other hand, was never allowed in here as a boy because she didn’t trust me not to wreck the place—the nerve, I tell you… ”
“But where have you been all day?” I repeat, trying to get him to answer.
“Meeting after meeting. I thought they’d never end, but don’t worry.
I ensured a small regiment was deployed to help the injured warriors in Borealla and to keep watch over the students there.
” A twinge of disappointment strikes me as I realize that he didn’t invite me to discuss the details of these plans.
He grins as he washes with gobs of pink soap and a sea sponge attached to a wooden handle.
“But rest assured, I wanted to be here with you.”
“What about the scout for Alexandria Castle?”
Rett hesitates. “Dispatched as promised.”
I’m struck speechless, frustration growing in me.
His gaze shifts uncomfortably before he adds, “So, as I was saying, this tub is heated from the floor beneath us, where the servants shovel hot coals into a compartment beneath our feet. They also circulate the water through clay piping so it never goes stagnant. You don’t know how nice it is that you’re staying in here.
Now Mother can’t kick me out.” He gives a saucy smirk and dumps a pitcher of water over his body several times in quick succession.
The streams of water roll down his oversized shoulders and onto his glistening chest. Catching me looking, he vigorously shakes his hair, the spray hitting me in the face.
“Watch it!”
Rett climbs out of the bath, dripping onto the marble floor. I avert my gaze and step back into the bedchamber, not sure how I feel.
He’s wrapped in a linen towel as he emerges, heading straight for the door to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing you should know if you’re to stay here.
The Beast Realm’s traditional custom is to stay celibate after a betrothal officially begins.
It’s a silly ritual the Beast Elders like us to adhere to because it brings good luck to any children conceived on a wedding night.
Mother expects us to remain in compliance, so we’ll sleep in different beds until then. ”
* * *
Time moves fast while I’m at Delamere Castle.
Pure, decadent luxury makes the days slip by while I wait.
Despite my impatience, the solitude of my guest chambers is precisely the space and rest I need after the upheaval of the last few months.
It’s the type of finery and comfort that reminds me of my previous life.
Of my home at the Bidding House. Of Alexandria Castle.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.
While the Beast Realm is hot and humid outside, the sandstone walls keep the castle’s interior temperate, especially at night. My balcony doors, overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, are left ajar to allow the breeze inside as I sleep soundly to the roar of the waves.
That is, until the nightmares begin a week after I arrive.
Urgent and panicked, the whispers inundate my mind, and I wake drenched in sweat over and over again.
Most nights, I cool myself by standing next to the balcony’s balustrade edge, peering down the side of the castle that blends into the sheer sandstone cliff dropping toward the crashing waves—all while I piece together the fragments of my desperate dreams. I clutch the balustrade, thinking how unsettling it is to look into the darkness where water meets sky and not know where one begins and the other ends, but I can’t stop searching the void.
Deep within me, I feel as if something is calling.
Despite my restless nights, every morning I rise with the sun, scarfing down colorful fruit before heading to the library.
Impressively, it rivals Alexandria’s in size, except that here the library features intricate stained-glass windows from floor to ceiling, as well as several smaller, more specialized bookrooms attached to the main gallery.
Books, maps, and scrolls tuck into my arms every night as I carry them to my chambers to keep studying.
I don’t know what I’m looking for, but there’s an empty hollow inside me that craves more.
I read about dragons. I read geography texts.
I read about the Beast Realm. But to my dismay, I’m unable to learn anything about the Kingdom of Ashland’s history.
The only available textbooks are written in the Dead-Fae language, and no local scribes are willing to translate them.
When scrounging at the library fails to occupy me, I spend my evenings practicing the defensive and offensive moves Valora taught me, using a cast-iron fireplace poker—a private habit I picked up at Ashland Castle when I was denied Neriene for solitary practice.
It’s growing troublesome that every time I ask Rett if I can train with a sword master, he says he’ll consult with his mother and let me know.
After all his talk of me continuing training and honing my skills, he should care more, but it’s almost as if he can’t keep up with both my requests and his mother’s daily tasks.
So I’ve stopped asking, and I alternate between using the poker and conjuring elements on my balcony.
With the exception of the library, I’m forbidden to visit other palace rooms or attend official dinners in the grand dining hall, a place where Rett entertains foreign dignitaries every night.
I dine alone in my chambers because the empress expresses concern about openly harboring me.
I’ve been told that I won’t be able to meet other guests or leaders until Erah officially lays out a plan of allyship and war.
Yet the days roll by like pearls on a string, and still the empress never arranges a meeting with me.
Most nights, Rett only comes to visit me when the hour is well past midnight. Sometimes, he doesn’t come at all. But tonight, his familiar knock sounds at the door, and as soon as I open it, he grins and says, “Grab your cloak and your walking shoes.”
“Where are we going?” I snap shut the balanced book in my other hand.