Chapter 34 Alfrie
Chapter thirty-four
Alfrie
Inever thought I'd be so elated to see the depressing village of Lanray. The ride from Masseda felt like a lifetime, especially on horseback. My body still aches from the injury, but at least I'm able to remain upright for a while without wanting to pass out. Unlike earlier this morning.
I was convinced I was still hallucinating from the poison when I woke in the middle of the night to Zara asleep and curled up next to me in bed.
I had wiped my eyes several times to be sure she was actually there.
I even lay there for a few minutes, wondering if I should wake her or let her rest. She looked so peaceful with her white-blonde hair fanned out on the pillow behind her like a crown.
I couldn’t bring myself to disturb her. Instead, I painstakingly crawled from the bed and climbed into the armchair before anyone walked in on what would no doubt be a highly inappropriate situation.
The movement from the bed to the chair was agony.
And a waste of energy.
Leer entered the room as I was struggling to climb into the chair. To his credit, he accused me of nothing. He hasn’t said much to me in the hours since we left Masseda either.
Our horses slow to an easy walk as we enter the outskirts of the palace.
Lanray is a stark contrast to Masseda. Lanray isn’t bustling with townsfolk selling goods or dancing and performing in the streets.
There are no joyous festivals. No upbeat music ringing through the air.
The village of Lanray is bleak and empty, and it’s like a ghost town when we enter.
The sun hides behind a heavy blanket of clouds and the sky threatens rain at any moment, sending a damp chill through the village.
The usual fog hangs low and moist in the air, creating an eerie backdrop to a silent street.
The houses and shops that line the broken brick paths appear abandoned with their shutters closed and lights dimmed.
The street lanterns flicker in and out against wicks that are burnt to nubs buried in the candle wax.
The rhythmic beating of our horses' hooves on the limestone and the wobbling carriage wheels over the nooks and crannies in the broken pavement are the only sounds in the town. For a moment, I wonder if the villagers have left. Perhaps talk of the attack at Masseda has already made its way across the realm and they ran from the possibility of the same thing happening here. Then again, the heavy quiet is the norm, so it’s impossible to know if the townsfolk are here or not.
Alix rides on a white stallion next to me, remaining alongside me the entire day, even stopping to rest with me when I felt weak and dizzy.
He was silent for the entirety of the trip, and I didn’t press him to talk about what happened or about anything really.
I know he blames himself for the attack, though there was no way he could have prevented it.
“Welcome to Lanray.” I gesture at the empty streets with my hand. I’m slightly surprised when he responds.
“Is it always this…quiet?” He scans the rows of houses constructed from gray bricks and cedar. His knuckles are white as they tightly grip the reigns. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“It never does.” I lightly tap my horse’s side with my heel.
“And the smell.” He holds his forearm against his nose. “It’s disgustingly familiar.”
“You’ll get used to it. Come on.” We catch up to the carriage and flank it as we pass. I dare to glance into the window wondering if Zara is awake. But I can’t see through the tiny hole of glass on the carriage door.
“How are you feeling?” Leer slows his steed to walk next to mine.
“Better.”
“That’s good.” He stares ahead, his emotions buried beneath the mask I know so well.
“Leer, about this morning. I didn’t know Zara was there.
I didn’t know she'd even come into the room…let alone…” I’m not sure why I feel the need to explain myself.
It wasn’t as if I invited her into my bed.
I wasn’t even conscious for most of the night.
Perhaps some part of me wished I had been. A very small part.
“I know. I was just surprised. She said she was looking for me and fell asleep.” He glances at me then, a half-smile on his lips. “It wasn’t really about being with you as much as she didn’t want to be alone. Any other reason wouldn’t make sense, right?”
Of course he’s right. I’m sick to my stomach that I had any hope of something more. I return his cocky smile. “Right.”
We ride in silence through the town and when our traveling party crosses over a gray stone bridge, my horse whinnies uncomfortably.
All of the horses are uneasy as the palace of Lanray comes into view, towering high above the leafless tree branches that are spread low and wide like claws of a wild beast.
The menacing exterior of the castle has warded off the Unseelie Court since it was built.
Four massive turrets stretch high into the gray cloud cover and the building is armored in the same dark stone as the bridge.
There are hardly any windows except in the high towers, and the entire fortress is surrounded by a twenty-foot-wide moat of murky brown water.
A shiver rolls down my spine as I stare up at the palace, squinting my eyes against the sheer size. Home sweet home.
It takes a few hours to get our visitors from Masseda to their rooms and ensure they’re comfortable.
But now I’m finally alone. I take the servants’ stairs down to my cozy room deep in the basement.
There’s not a single drop of sunlight that touches this part of the castle.
Not that the sun shines in any part of Lanray most of the time.
I hold up a lantern lighting a path through the dark gray stone hallway, and trudge along to an old pinewood door.
Once I enter my hidden domain, I close the door behind me and rest against it.
The weight of the last few weeks hits me all at once, and I shrink down to the floor, taking in the space I have longed to return to since the minute we left for Masseda.
Everything is as I left it. Dozens of books line the oak shelves that I built myself about a year after I was brought here.
My small desk is messy with parchment and scrolls and open ink bottles strewn over it.
Two candles that are melted down to nearly their wicks are in the middle of a second table that houses vials of medicines and experimental concoctions.
I never thought I would miss anything about Lanray, but as I gaze around my private kingdom, I smile. I lean my head back onto the wooden door and close my eyes reveling in the silence and the familiar scent of dust and paper.
A light knock on the door rattles my head and I’m pulled away from a rare moment of peace. I pick myself off the floor and swing the door open expecting to see Leer. He’s the only other soul who knows this room exists.
I cock my head to the side and quirk a brow when I come face to face with Queen Elara.
She’s dressed in the same gown she was wearing in the carriage.
The black bodice is covered in red lace with a black ribbon that ties in the front, unlike a traditional corset.
Her jet-black hair hangs loose upon her shoulders, framing her slender face and pointed chin.
The former queen is beautiful. Terrifying, but beautiful.
She stares at me expectantly with icy blue and unblinking eyes.
I clear my throat and quickly dip into a bow. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, I wasn’t expecting you. How may I be of service?”
“Albert, right?”
I bristle. “Alfrie, Your Majesty.”
“Whatever. I need your help with something. I need medicine.” She pushes past me into the room and walks to the table. She picks up a couple of vials and swirls their liquids.
“Please, come in.” I mutter and close the door. “What kind of medicine?”
“A sleeping aid.” She pulls a book from my shelves and absently flips through the pages.
“As you might imagine, I’ve had trouble sleeping after the attack and brutal murder of my husband.
” She avoids making eye contact, and I don’t hear an ounce of emotion in her voice either.
Perhaps that’s just the way she processes grief—by not processing it at all.
“Of course. I can make something for you if you allow me a couple of days to collect the ingredients I need. I would be remiss if I didn’t warn you that the particular medicine I’m thinking of is quite strong. You might consider giving yourself time to grieve and then maybe—”
“I might consider it.” Her tone is biting and anger flashes in her eyes when she finally looks my way.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I wait for her to take her leave, but she just stands there, her hand brushing lightly along the edge of my desk. “Was there something else?”
A sly smile curls her lips and her soft gaze pins me to my spot near the door. The air shifts around me and I suddenly notice her breasts struggling to be free from the tight bodice of her gown. I have no interest in this female yet I have to clench my hands into fists to avoid reaching for her.
I swallow and look away, but she closes the distance between us and takes my chin in her fingers, tilting my face down to hers. I have no idea what’s happening to me. I simultaneously feel the urge to run as far away as I can and to lay her down on top of my desk.
“Alfrie, I need my little request to be just between us, and I need the medicine as quickly as possible. Do you understand?” Her mouth is inches from mine, her breath hot and sweet like cinnamon.
Is she glamouring me? Impossible. Why would she risk losing a part of herself for a sleeping aid?
Only Unseelie Fae can use glamour magic without consequence.
But judging by the look in her eyes, that’s exactly what she’s doing.
I blink my eyes to cut through the spell. But I can’t. I can’t fight her glamour.
Her lips sweep over mine, sealing the curse of her words. She tastes of rotting apples and poison. She pulls back and releases my chin. “Do you understand? Tell no one of this meeting.”
“I understand. I will tell no one of this meeting.” The words spill easily from my tongue and completely out of my control. Even knowing I’ve been spelled, I won’t be able to go against her will. I’ll be physically unable to tell anyone about Elara coming to my workroom tonight.
She pats my cheek with her ice-cold hand. “Good lad.”
I’m still glued to the same spot, and she slithers past me and out of the room. The minute she leaves, it’s as though my body has been released after being tied down for weeks and I have to grip the edge of the table as I sway. I forcefully exhale and rake my hand through my hair.
It’s nearly impossible to fight against glamour. Or to even know when it’s happening to you. Which means either Elara isn’t very good at it, or she wanted me to know what she’s capable of. The worst part is knowing that I can’t tell anyone else what just happened.