Chapter 7 #3
Standing on the carriage step, Caspian offered her his hand. His hand felt warm and sure in hers, making it easy to follow his lead and climb into the carriage. She sat primly with her hands folded in her lap, and Caspian muttered that he would sit at the front to give her some privacy.
Elizabeth allowed herself one last look at the home she had grown up in, and paused, inhaling the soft smell of honeysuckle and lavender that she would always associate with home.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she turned her gaze away from Ashcroft Manor and towards the road, feeling both giddy and nervous at the prospect of leaving.
After they passed through the outskirts of Briarton, she was surprised to see them heading north, towards the forests and mountains of Arboras.
Mountains loomed in the distance, and a dense forest lay ahead, marking the border to the northern kingdom.
Mists wove through the trees, making them look both foreboding and ethereal.
She had never left Rhodea before and found herself taking a deep breath when they crossed into the border of the forest. The world grew dark in the shade of the trees, as if everything on this side of the border was blanketed in shadow.
They continued down the forest road for a time, and she was surprised to find that the air smelled different here, sharper, like a crisp summer morning, but in a way that stung her nostrils with the smell of mulch and pine.
When they got out of the carriage, she was taken aback; the ground was wet everywhere she stepped. Her slippers squelched in the grass and mud, quickly becoming ruined. She would have to wear boots outside from now on.
When they paused at a roadside inn to relieve themselves and stretch their limbs, she retrieved a book from one of her trunks and spent most of the trip with her nose buried in its pages.
The forest road seemed endless. They travelled up hills and mountains, their path lined with evergreen trees that all looked identical. One could easily get lost here, but Asmodeus seemed sure of their path through the woods.
After a few days, she began to miss the sun like a physical ache in her chest. She hadn’t realized how much of it she was used to seeing every day.
It took them nearly a week of travel, their progress slowed by the steep mountain terrain and the fact that they were in no hurry anymore and she usually accepted the option to spend the night in an inn to sleep in a proper bed.
Finally, they arrived at an intricately wrought iron gate. Caspian was at the front of the carriage, so there was no one to look to to reassure herself that she wasn’t heading into grave danger. The gate creaked as it opened and her heart flew into her throat.
Behind the gate stood a dark castle at the end of a long drive. The castle had many tall towers and turrets, and ivy crept along the walls, making it look half consumed by the forest around it.
The castle was enormous—the demon was far better off than she had anticipated.
Their carriage rolled to a stop, and Caspian opened her door and held out his hand. She accepted it and stepped onto the cobblestone drive, her feet nearly disappearing under the mists that snaked along the ground.
Beside her, Caspian said, “Welcome to my home.”
She gave what she hoped was a friendly smile.
Caspian grasped a heavy iron knocker and rapped loudly, the sound booming.
The door opened to reveal a creature with large black eyes, tiny horns, and small black wings. It was hardly taller than her knee, wearing pants and a vest similar to a butler’s uniform, stretching taut across its round little belly.
“Master Caspian, welcome back.” Its black eyes crinkled with a smile. The creature turned to her and said, “Lady Elizabeth, welcome.” It held out a small paw as one would a hand.
“Hello … Er, nice to meet you,” she said, trying to be polite.
“I am the butler, Iago.” As the small creature shook her hand, she felt claws brush against her fingers and suppressed a cringe.
Asmodeus and the butler demon hastened to bring her trunks inside, depositing them in a pile at the entryway. Iago looked comical, lugging trunks that were bigger than he was. He huffed and puffed, while Asmodeus looked resigned, carrying two at once.
Caspian stood in silence, waiting with his arms crossed while his servants carried her things into the entrance hall. He glanced between her and the growing pile of trunks on the floor, raising his brows. She copied him, crossing her arms as well; she hadn’t been about to leave it all behind.
Elizabeth looked around the entrance hall and her breath caught.
Her first impression of the castle was of black marble trimmed in gold.
In front of them stood a grand staircase that led into the rest of the castle, and on either side of them were halls lined with archways made of polished dark stone.
Black marble pillars stood throughout the hall, and high vaulted ceilings made the space seem ridiculously extravagant and luxurious.
Gold accents peeked out from everywhere she looked, from the capitals atop pillars to the elaborate railings flanking the grand staircase.
She touched the walls, as if to be sure it was real and not an illusion. Cool marble met her fingertips.
Asmodeus came to deposit the last pair of trunks inside, his footsteps echoing across the polished black marble floor veined with white. Iago shut the door, extinguishing all light from outside.
The hall suddenly grew somber and foreboding.
“Ignisiar,” said Caspian, sounding bored and lifting his hand.
Torches burst to life, flickering in gold brackets on the walls, and looking up, she saw an enormous crystal chandelier that bathed the hall in soft candlelight.
“Váless,” Caspian said, lazily flicking his fingers towards the trunks, and drawing her attention back to the master of the house. The trunks lifted into the air as if suspended by invisible strings.
Caspian beckoned to her. “Come.”
She made to follow him and the trunks trailed after them, floating through the air.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Standing so close to magic left her feeling apprehensive, as if the queen’s guards could storm in at any moment and arrest her for not reporting Caspian to the crown.
But no one burst through the doors, and Asmodeus and Iago didn’t even blink at Caspian’s casual use of magic.
Climbing up the stairs, she darted a glance backwards at the trunks still hovering in midair.
They passed enormous arched windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, offering glimpses of the forest covered mountains that surrounded the castle. The windows made the castle seem larger than life, like she was living in a house of the gods.
They continued climbing the stairs, passing what must have been the fifth—or was it sixth?—floor, and she followed the demon down a dark hall. Caspian stopped in front of a door and gestured for her to enter first.
He clenched his jaw so hard a muscle flickered in his cheek.
She quirked her head towards him, feeling slightly bewildered. He caught sight of her staring at him, and his expression cleared, the shadows lifting from his features as if they had never been.
She blinked rapidly and wondered if he had really looked so frightening, or if it had just been a trick of the light.
“Your chambers,” Caspian said.
She nodded and turned the elaborately wrought handle. Moving into the room, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was a normal chamber, and nothing jumped out to scare her. He had kept his word and was truly offering her houseroom.
Caspian strode in after her, raising his hand and twiddling his fingers to direct the trunks to organize themselves into a towering pile. The trunks quivered as they gently bumped together. “Lida.”
With a small thud, the trunks froze where they were, and moved no more.
“I’ll leave you to freshen up, and then you may come down for supper.”
Her heart beat rapidly as she wondered exactly what kind of supper he had planned. Did they even have food fit for mortals here?
He turned to leave, and she grew flustered, quickly raising her hand to halt him in his tracks. “Er. Caspian?”
He stilled, arching a dark brow.
She swallowed. “Caspian, if I may, I have an agreement for us to sign before this goes any further.”
Elizabeth looked for a particular trunk and opened it to pull out several sheets of parchment, along with an inkpot and quill.
She wanted a better contract between them, one that was not so frustratingly vague in its wording and outlined additional things that she thought were fair to ask for.
She had obsessed over the wording for the last several days, putting a good deal of thought into ironing out details that would make her feel safer when she gave him blood.
She smiled encouragingly. “One is for me to keep; one is for you.”
He held out a hand and swiftly skimmed the page before looking at her expectantly.
“I—I thought it best to clarify the specific terms of our agreement. With more, er, specifics.” She wrung her hands together nervously, waiting for him to say something.
“But we already have a signed agreement between us.” He glanced at the parchment again and surveyed her with a gleam in his eye.
“You are no prisoner here,” he continued.
“And I will send a small bag of gold to your room once a week so that you can buy whatever you wish. If you are hungry, ask one of the servants, and they will see to it that you are fed. I say this to alleviate your particular fears of starvation; however, this”—he said, gesturing at the parchment—“this, I cannot allow. You cannot run away. You are mine, and I own you for the next three months. I shouldn’t have to point out that breaking a deal with a demon would be a very bad decision. ”
She narrowed her gaze. “Just out of curiosity, what would happen if I broke our deal?”