by L. J. Stock
“I can't imagine how long it would to take to learn where everything leads,” I murmured, looking up at a beautiful tapestry of a regal-looking Griffin. “I think, given half the chance, I would get lost if left to wander.”
“I have been here since I was a child. My father was the chief of staff before me, so I've had a lot of time to learn my way around. Most of the staff are very knowledgeable when it comes to the Palace and all of its secret tunnels and back routes. There are five wings, over four hundred rooms, and over three hundred and fifty fireplaces alone. Add to that the hidden corridors and it’s quite easy to get lost. So if you should find yourself disoriented, the staff will lead you to where you need to go.”
Although the history of the palace was all very interesting, it seemed like a pointless exercise. From the conversations I'd had with Alexa and Zander, it seemed like they got their orders from Acantha. She was the only person in our group – other than Damon – to be in constant contact with the King, which in turn meant I wouldn't have to be here again. Once I’d gained permission to train, I would go home and that would be the end of my time in the Palace.
Rather than making an issue of it, I simply nodded and continued to follow Deacon through the Great Hall to the grand staircase that was winding up to the second floor at the end of it. Another set of huge wooden doors stood at the foot of them, which Deacon explained led to a covered pavilion for deliveries, as it was the closest point to the staff kitchens.
I tried to take in everything Deacon pointed out to me, while the two guards followed silently behind us. Their presence made me even more nervous. It was like going into a store and being followed by the salesperson. I was afraid to touch anything or ask questions. They were both tall, one with red hair, the other with dark hair almost shaved to the scalp. I wasn’t comfortable enough to look at them for long enough to analyze any more than that.
All four of us climbed the stairs, moving in a circular motion as we ascended. The higher we got, the more of the Great Hall I could see. From the middle of it I had been speechless, but from above, I was in awe. You could see the subtle details that were missed from being too close to it. I couldn’t imagine living somewhere like this.
Deacon finally slowed on the second floor, and led us down a smaller corridor, where he stopped outside of a room with a set of heavy double oak doors. Without any formality, he pulled them open and stepped to the side, gesturing for me to enter. I gave him a warm smile of thanks and stepped inside. The room was another source of wonder for me. It was like stepping back in time. The huge canopy bed dominated the wall on one side, its four posts draped with heavy material that fell to the floor and was swept back against the posts. The other side held another door and a large ornate room divider. From what I could see, there were mirrors and a dressing table situated behind it, beautiful gowns hanging in an armoire that sat open at one end just waiting for their owner to step into them.
“Damon will be along to collect you from your room when the king is ready for you, Miss Collier. If there is anything you need before then, please ask one of the ladies and they will contact me directly.”
“Umm, thank you?” I offered, turning slowly in the middle of the room, still completely in awe.
“You're welcome, Miss Collier. I believe the ladies are drawing you a hot bath to warm you up a little.”
Almost as if on cue, three women stepped from the adjoining room in a burst of colorful dresses, and each of them curtsied in my direction. All three of them were beautiful, with their hair up in complex twists, their cheeks rosy from the excitement of a new guest, or so I assumed. Offering me their smiles, they approached attentively and led me toward the bathroom.
“This is Melody, Thetis and Penthea,” Deacon announced, each of the ladies half nodding and half curtsying again as their name was called.
Melody seemed to be the youngest, her light blonde hair and blue eyes fitting her large and welcoming smile. The other two were a little older and seemed less inclined to offer more than a smile of encouragement. I felt intimidated by them.
“If you need anything, all you need to do is ask.”
“Thanks, Deacon,” I offered again, feeling awkward. This was quickly becoming one of the most bizarre experiences in my life, which was quite the statement considering a couple of weeks ago I'd been busted from a mental institution and been introduced to a grandmother who looked less than a decade older than me.
The doors clicked closed behind me, and a quick glance over my shoulder left me relieved at the absence of Deacon and his two guards. I was alone with the ladies, something I felt much more equipped to handle now I wasn’t quite so outnumbered.
It turned out that my first inclination had been correct. I got along well with Melody almost immediately. She was easy to talk to and eagerly asked questions about my dimension, while the other two clucked their tongues at her candor and cast nervous glances at us. The last thing I wanted to do was get Melody in trouble, but I would shoot her just as many questions as she was asking and it relaxed me, especially when I found myself staring into a mirror at my reflection. I looked like I was heading to a really fancy Renaissance Faire.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Miss Collier.”
Glancing in the mirror again, I impossibly agreed with her. They'd managed quite a transformation. I barely recognized myself with my dark hair all pulled up into a graceful looking chignon. I gave myself a quick twirl and almost stumbled in the heels when a sharp, purposeful knock sounded at the door. With a quiet laugh, Melody skipped forward and opened it with perfect etiquette, her curtsy deep and blush deeper as she stepped aside to let Damon inside. It seemed I wasn't the only one who had a crush on him.
“Damon, sir, Miss Collier is almost ready if you'd like to come in and wait.”
Damon didn't respond verbally. He simply swept into the room like some nobleman with a purpose, a nod and wink thrown haphazardly at the blushing girl as he passed.
“Well look at you,” he said, nodding his head in approval as he eyed me up and down.
“Shut up.”
“It was a compliment, Cass.”
“Yeah, don't do so good with those.” I snorted in the most unladylike fashion possible.
“You'd best learn quickly then. Are you ready?”
No.
“Absolutely.”
I was such a liar. I was ready to head back to the bath and get the hell out of here. I didn't know the first thing about talking to a king, and Melody's quick recap lesson in curtsying had just disappeared completely.
“Liar,” he said, echoing my thoughts as he held out his arm and tucked my hand around it. “But you'll be fine.”
I wished I was as sure as he was. All I could think about as he led me down the regal, twisting staircase, was how badly this would all go with my propensity to get argumentative when I didn't get my own way. I didn't think anything would prepare me mentally for the fact that this man ruled and controlled... well, everything.
“Breathe.” Damon laughed, his other hand stroking the back of mine. “You're never going to get through this if you faint from lack of oxygen.”
“Very astute of you.” I grinned, bumping my hip with his.
Rolling his eyes playfully, he guided us farther down the Great Hall as I took everything in.
“Cass, after our brief discussion outside, I have a proposition for you.”
“Hmm?” My eyes were lingering on a particularly grand tapestry that could have covered most of Acantha's paddock at the farm. The intricacies were mind-boggling and I was mentally calculating the man-hours it would have taken to put it all together.
“Honesty.”
“What of it?” I asked, finally giving him my full attention.
“I think you and I need to make a pact. If we're going to exist and work together, I think we need to have some kind of understanding. You need to know that I'm being completely honest with you and I need you to trust me and be honest with me. We have to trus
t one another.”
“Why now?” I asked with feigned ignorance. I knew exactly why he was proposing honesty. He’d been caught out.
“Your confrontation in the courtyard. You were disappointed in my behavior and…well, if the king agrees to your request, I may well be the one to train you, and for you to succeed, you have to trust me to steer you in the right direction.”
I loved watching him squirm. I'd never heard him this flustered before. Even as kids he'd always been in control of his emotions. He could normally explain his way out of anything. He'd just allowed me to see I had at least some influence over him, even if it was twelve years too late.
“This isn't going to be sworn in blood or anything weird is it?” I asked, grinning up at him.
Damon looked at me incredulously, the hint of amusement finally lightening the color of his eyes. For a moment, I forgot where I was and what I was about to do. It seemed unfair that one glance could create such a hold over another person. I'd somehow tripped and stumbled into the mossy green and slowly started to drown in the depths of them. After all those years, you would have thought I’d had a better grip on myself. After so many weeks of getting to know him again, you would have thought the stick I believed he needed to have surgically removed from his ass would have woken me up, but not me. He was all I could think about when I had the time to think. This new rugged and mature version of him was the highlight reel in my dreams, where he was less than gentlemanly.
I was in so much trouble when it came to Damon and my feelings for him, and now I'd just gone and made an honesty pact with him. What if he did something stupid and asked how I felt about him? That was a disaster waiting to happen. It was an inevitability I would make a complete moron of myself.
Turning away and breaking the connection, Damon continued to lead the way down the Great Hall and turned down another corridor in the middle of it, his fingers inadvertently stroking the back of my hand. The ceilings weren't half as high in this offshoot corridor, but the grandeur was triplicate. Everything was more regal and formal, and the tapestries were clean and hung at evenly spaced intervals. Even the sconces on the wall were grander, and I would have bet anything on the fact that they were made of gold and not the cast iron or brass I'd seen everywhere else.
We were in the king's wing, a fact that was more than confirmed the deeper we ventured into it. There were guards everywhere.
“You look a little lost,” Damon whispered, his hand squeezing mine before he nodded at some of the guards as he passed.
“More overwhelmed than anything. Do you really live here?”
“I live in the castra with the other guards. It's in the palace, but separate from the king's quarters. I think you’d call it barracks in your world? We can get anywhere in the palace from there. They built it above the dungeons. There's a king’s army, but the Regius Custos are here solely to look after the royal family. We're the ones that lay down our lives.”
“Like the secret service?”
“I don't know what that is,” he responded apologetically.
“Remind me to explain it to you one day.”
His quiet laughter eased the tumultuous emotions that were bubbling around inside of me, as the layers of guards grew thicker. It seemed only logical that we were getting closer to the king.
With silence now hanging between us, I took a little time to observe my surroundings. There were tapestries lining the walls, and I was grateful for the story they seemed to tell. It became something to distract me from my nerves as it progressed from one end of the corridor to the other. I still wasn't completely oblivious to the guards surrounding us, but it was enough to stop me from hyperventilating at the sight of them, because the beauty of the scenes was completely undeniable.
When we turned a slight corner and the doors were framed with uniformed guards, I almost lost my nerve and ran. They didn’t even look at me, yet I felt intimidated by their mere presence as they guarded the doors, two men framing each door like sentries, their rigidity almost part of the uniform.
By the time Damon stopped in front of a set of double oak doors, I was ready to throw up.
“You ready?”
No.
“Yes.”
I didn’t think I would ever be ready for this so it wasn’t exactly breaking our pact of honesty. It was more that I was sucking it up and doing what I had to. I could do this. I had to do this. I didn’t have any options without it.
Damon nodded once, and the guards pulled open the doors easily with a sense of authority before they stepped back to give us room to enter.
Revelations
The room was huge. The ceiling climbed higher the farther I walked into the depths of the vast space. The only furniture present were a large imposing table made of heavy oak, which was filled with maps and stacks of parchment, and at least sixteen chairs surrounding it. The decor was all swords and maces; there were even a couple of deer heads on the walls. The only thing I could deduce from my surroundings was that it was a war room of sorts.
As my eyes roamed over the glassy-eyed deer, I couldn’t help thinking that some barbarian rituals were shared between the dimensions. With the progression in this dimension in comparison to ours, I could at least understand it. Then again, when I looked at my situation – I was here to end another life in order for the rest of the population to thrive – I may not have been as convinced about it as they were, but the point was, there was a war raging all around us. The death of a couple of deer was nothing in comparison to the lives of the people here, deaths that I myself had witnessed on several occasions.
My eyes scanned the room until they landed on the gentleman sitting in the only occupied seat in the room. Considering I'd only seen Deacon and the soldiers, I was surprised to observe that he was dressed in very modern clothes from my dimension. He was in a well-tailored gray suit, double breasted with a waistcoat underneath. But what caught my attention most was the shock of black, wavy hair that was brushed back from his distinguished and handsome face. It matched his long, dark lashes perfectly, but what interested me even more was the bright blue color of the irises looking back at me that held so much familiarity. I felt as though I’d seen him before – that I knew him – but I couldn’t place where.
“Well, would you look at that.” He laughed, standing from his seat in the most fluid and graceful manner before heading toward us. I watched in awe as he rose to his full height. He had to be way over six feet, and it only served to make him even more intimidating than he’d been sitting down. The only thing that calmed me was the gentle curve of his lips as he smiled warmly at me.
A nudge from Damon standing at my side reminded me of my manners, and without thinking it through, I fell into a deep curtsy.
“We seem to have our dimensions muddled. From what I've heard of your strong will, I wasn't sure you would be predisposed to our fashions, Cassandra,” he teased in a pleasant tone.
“I'm afraid I haven't mastered the art of translocation yet, sir, your maje–highness.” I curtsied again and fought not to roll my eyes at myself.
“Oh, don't mind the formalities, Cassandra. Or is it Cass?” he asked while chuckling, his hand waving off my awkwardness as though it were nothing. His laughter died into another warm smile framed by a neatly trimmed beard, and his kind eyes crinkled at the corners, making it almost impossible not to return the gesture. I could understand why so many of his people respected him as much as they did. He was definitely very charismatic. I still couldn’t get past the familiarity that had struck me at first glance. I was aware I hadn’t seen him before – I knew I would remember someone that tall with such striking features – but I still felt an unusual draw to him.
I stared a little longer, and it took a beat of silence to realize I was being rude and hadn't answered him yet. I felt myself shuffle slightly with embarrassment. I had been quiet longer than was necessary, and I was also staring at the King of Mortisali as though he had four heads.
“It's Cass,
Your Majesty.”
“Well, Cass, the dress is very fetching on you.” He smiled again, causing a buzz of amity to course through me yet again. He pointed to one of the high backed chairs that sat around the table. “Would you like to sit?”
I nodded and curtsied yet again. I felt Damon tense beside me as he stifled a laugh, and I had to fight not to give him my middle finger. It was all well and good growing up in an environment like this where interacting with kings and noble people was an everyday occurrence, but this was all so alien to me. I'd never been around anyone famous or royal before, and even though Acantha had been kind enough to help with some of the formalities, the rest was Greek to me.
Damon should have been far more understanding than he was being. He’d been in my situation once. I was lost here, and I had no idea what was expected of me. Being in the room with the King of Mortisali was stressful, but the fact that he’d complimented me, over a dress I really wasn’t comfortable in, only made me want to fidget more.
I followed the king to the offered chair, which he kindly pulled out and waited for me to sit. Taking the one next to it, he turned so it was facing me before shuffling closer. I watched him vigilantly, stunned by how, even sitting, he looked omniscient and proper.
Damon, obviously knowing the drill, stood behind him and to the right in complete silence, his eyes trained anywhere but on the two of us. I hated to admit it, but I noticed that his back was rigid as he stretched to his full height behind the king, and for a blissful moment, he held all of my attention.
“Tell me about yourself, Cass,” the king asked gently. Modern convention normally ensured that this was a way to start a conversation, but his inquiry was more than that. I could see the genuine interest in his blue eyes.