CHAPTER 14
My knees buckled the moment my boots hit solid ground.
I might have toppled completely if Reagan’s arm hadn’t held me steady. It wasn’t until I gulped down a lungful of air that I realised my fingers were curled inside his cloak, digging into his ribs.
“Not fond of flinging?” he drawled, the corner of his mouth twitching, not seeming to mind my fingers.
Heat crawled up my neck as I stepped back, releasing him. “Doesn’t that make your stomach queasy?”
He shrugged and turned to take in the sight before us. “Welcome to Erisea Hall.”
I noticed the sky first. It was a vibrant blue, scattered with bright white clouds. It was warmer here than it had any right to be, so close to winter. I shed my cloak, draping it over my arm as a salty breeze brought the scent of flowers to me.
We were in a garden covered in them, with every imaginable colour, their petals reflecting the sunlight like tiny jewels.
The grass beneath my feet was a vibrant summer green, so at odds with the frost-laden leaves of Mountheim that I almost wanted to sink to my knees and feel it with my bare hands.
Erisea Hall loomed at the far end of the sprawling garden, its cream-coloured stone bathed in relentless sunbeams. The castle’s spires stretched high, their rounded domes topped with slender rods. Thick layers of vines and moss crept along the walls.
The castle stood every bit as large and ancient as Mountheim Hall, as if the two were twin fortresses born of the same era.
I spun around. We seemed to be perched higher than the surrounding landscape, but not by much. Beyond the garden, on this side of the castle, a forest sprawled downward, thick and slightly darker than the grass beneath my boots.
I turned my gaze back to the castle, to the side entrance nestled in the ivy-covered wall. We were already within the gates.
“Can they control the weather?” I asked as we strolled towards the entrance.
“What gave it away? The glaring sun or the bloody heat?” he asked, squinting. “But yes, they can. Not the entire estate, of course.”
We reached the stairs. Reagan placed a hand on my lower back, as if I might trip and fall without it. I laughed under my nose, earning a sidelong glance from him.
“Welcome, Lord Reagan and Lady Darling,” said a man waiting at the top of the stairs.
My humour fled me. I leaned closer to Reagan and whispered, “Lady?”
He shook his head. “He’s just assuming.”
Before us stood a man with long grey hair tied behind his neck, clad in a raisin-coloured waistcoat over a white shirt.
He wasn’t exactly old, maybe a few years younger than Barracus Crow, but the deeply etched lines across his forehead and his harshly pursed lips gave him an aged look.
“Hello, Roak. This is Jane Darling, new emissary to Mountheim,” Reagan introduced me with a lordly tone in his voice, the same that he used in the Citizens’ Audience. “Jane, meet Roak Faelor, staff leader at Erisea Hall.”
“Pleasure,” I said, with a polite nod, though something in the way Roak surveyed me felt like bitter friction down my neck.
He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, eyes narrowing as he looked me over from beneath lowered brows, his frown deepening.
“Please, come in,” he said, dismissing my greeting.
I glanced at Reagan, his glare fixed on Roak as the man stepped inside.
“I don’t think he liked me,” I whispered uneasily.
Without breaking his stare, Reagan leaned close, plucking the cloak from my arm. “He just figured out you’re human, and he’s not exactly thrilled about it.” His mouth inched closer, and I could hear the grin in his tone. “Wait until he sees how delightful you can be.”
His warm breath on my ear sent an involuntary shiver down my shoulder blades. What he said was far from a compliment, but my lips twitched despite myself.
My attention shifted to the foyer where a grand fountain with a detailed sculpted whale stood, water spilling from its mouth and cascading onto the cream marble floor. But it didn’t spread, nor flood the space. It simply fell within the same circle of water.
The grand foyer was as large as the one in Mountheim Hall, but the walls here were a lighter, sand colour, its ceiling adorned with a colourful chandelier. Through the tall windows was a darker sky with mottled grey clouds, rather than the blue one we had seen just moments ago.
“Reagan!” came a voice from the second floor.
A man descended the staircase, his lavender-blue robe draped elegantly across his broad shoulders and chest. His linen trousers contrasted with deep brown skin and ebony hair.
Beside him stood a woman of similar complexion, her long mahogany hair threaded with streaks of caramel. She shook her head at her companion, yet a soft smile curved her lips.
“Coriander,” Reagan said in a warm tone, as if they were close. “I was starting to think you’d moved.”
“We were travelling,” Coriander said, resting a hand on Reagan’s back, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Took longer than we expected.”
“Successful, at least?” Reagan asked lightly, receiving a dismissive nod from the man.
“As successful as it could have been,” the woman answered with a small tilt of her head. Her gaze swivelled to me.
Reagan angled his body in my direction. “This is Jane Darling, my new emissary. Jane, meet Coriander and Alameda Barrows, Lord and Lady of Erisea Estate.”
Both seemed close to Reagan in age, startlingly young to be the highest authorities in their land. But the powerful pulse of air emanating from them left no room for doubt.
Before I could answer, Alameda spoke. “Emissary. Not lady?”
I felt my brows lift. Reagan’s eyes flicked to mine, seemingly unbothered. “Alameda likes to think she’s funny.”
“Funnier than you,” she answered wryly, then turned her attention to me. “I’m honoured to meet you, Jane. Welcome to Erisea Hall.”
I forced a smile, all too aware of their assessing looks. “Thank you for having me,” I said.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a human visiting,” Coriander said, his eyes sharp with curiosity. “It’s truly a pleasure. And so unusual.”
Reagan leaned in smoothly. “She is a mystery indeed. But we didn’t come to speak about my emissary. We came here on business. You remember my request.”
There was a warning in his words, which neither of them failed to notice.
“We’ll get to that,” Alameda said, waving him off as she stepped forward and took my arm, linking hers with mine as if she had known me for years. “For now, we’ll eat. Reagan, you can settle your bags in your rooms. Jane and I will be waiting in the dining room.”
I glanced back just in time to catch his annoyed expression and Coriander’s chuckle before they strode off together. I thought I was not supposed to leave his side, but maybe he trusted her.
“I hope you won’t object to my abducting you,” she said. “I’ve never been very good at heeding warnings, especially under my own roof.”
“You must not like Reagan very much,” I observed, earning a smile from her.
“Our bickering is mostly for laughs, but sometimes I feel the need to put him in his place.”
I liked that. And from the way she studied me, she must have seen it. “You’re new to Mountheim, aren’t you? How do you like it?”
She seemed a few years shy of twenty-five, her gaze keen as it lingered on me. We moved down a bright corridor, and I turned her question over in my mind.
“Mountheim is nothing like where I’m from. Everything here is more ancient and . . . curious.”
She nodded. “I understand what you mean. Our cities existed long before the human territories we know today.”
We entered a spacious dining room where towering windows replaced most of the walls, flooding the space with so much daylight that no chandeliers were needed. The table resting in the centre was long enough to fit over twenty people.
Alameda gestured for me to sit, her gaze snagging on the necklace at my throat. “That’s a beautiful relic you’re wearing.”
My fingers instinctively brushed the pendant. “Thank you. It was a gift for my new role.”
I found it best to say that rather than admit it was Reagan’s way of guaranteeing my safety, though she might have known, anyway. I wasn’t sure how the necklace actually protected me. Perhaps it was simply a way for Reagan to track me down if I ran.
“The craftsmanship is exquisite. Mountheim’s silversmiths never fail to impress.” Her gaze lifted to meet mine. “And how are you finding your new position?”
Endless questions. I’d been spilling more answers than collecting any myself, so I decided it was time to reverse the flow.
“It’s still early days. I’ve barely begun. Are you and Coriander married?”
She smiled widely at that, as though my question amused her.
“Bonded. That’s what we call the union between the mageborn.” Her voice carried quiet pride. “And yes, we are. Two years now.”
She traced a fingertip across her forehead, where a symbol appeared. Two fine lines crossing at the centre, glowing a soft amethyst hue. Her eyes mirrored the colour briefly before the mark faded once more into her skin.
“But we’ve known each other much longer. We both grew up in Erisea. We bonded when he inherited the seat two years ago. Cor would’ve done it sooner, but with his position and the convention, it made sense to wait.”
I nodded appreciatively. Compared to Reagan, they had begun much later. “What do you mean by convention?” I asked.
“We’re expected to rule in pairs. The bond ties our power, and it’s meant to make us better at keeping the land intact. And in practice, it helps. Two sets of eyes, two judgements, the burden split instead of carried alone.”
I blinked, surprised. It was different from what I knew; among humans, there was only ever one governor.
And, as far as I knew, there wasn’t a Lady of Mountheim. Her earlier comment suggested the same.
“Do you have anyone like me on your estate?” I asked.
“You mean a human? No. There shouldn’t be.” Her last words were quiet. “Drink?”
She gestured to the table. Mugs appeared, along with a steaming pot that smelled of coffee, another that looked like tea, and water.