The Hidden Truth (Shadow Claw Book 7)

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The Hidden Truth (Shadow Claw Book 7) Page 105

by Sarah J. Stone


  “Right,” Cole looked doubtful. “And how long, pray tell, have you known Spencer this time around?”

  “A couple weeks?” she shrugged.

  “Oh I see,” Cole smirked.

  She realized he didn't believe her, and it put a shadow of doubt into her as well. What Spencer had said made sense to her when they were the only two on Earth that were let into the secret. But now, there was more than just their two infatuated minds involved. She switched topics, trying to be polite. She ignored the growing feeling of dread in her stomach.

  “Your English is very good,” she said. “Were you taught it in school?”

  “Not really,” he answered, and they began walking again. “My wife is from Earth, and she is a translator, a linguist.”

  “Oh, that's neat,” she answered. “So, that's where you learned most of it?”

  “Indeed,” he said. “I can get her if there is something you need. Whether or not you are Katianna, this must be confusing.”

  “It's all right,” she replied. “To tell you the truth, I've never been out of my hometown, so this is what I imagine every other place but home looks like.”

  He smirked at that as he pushed open a door. She gasped.

  The bedroom looked like it belonged in the sixteenth century, with a four-poster bed and furniture that was fit for a king. There was mahogany furniture, and a warm bedspread, with tapestries on the wall.

  The tapestries were what caught her eye the most. In beautiful, woven fabrics, she saw Earth and majestic dragons circling it. There were other planets surrounding it, planets she didn't recognize. She was as good at science as the next person, but these planets were not something they had taught her in high school science.

  “The rest of the galaxy,” Cole said, following her gaze. “Did you think your solar system was the only thing around?”

  “It was the only thing we knew,” she said, looking up. “Why? Did your wife know what they were?”

  “No,” he checked himself, realizing how mean he was being. “She was a lot more baffled than you, actually, come to think of it. And it certainly took longer than two weeks to get her to trust me.”

  “Could it be,” Katianna turned around with a smile, “because I've done this before?”

  “Checkmate to you,” he said, handing her a giant key. “The room is yours. If you want to see your boyfriend, ask any servant in the hallway, and I'm sure they can tell you where he's at. If he's talking to my brother, it might be a long time.”

  “I hope nothing serious is wrong?” Katianna answered.

  “Just the usual chaos and destruction,” Cole replied. “Enjoy your stay. Oh,” he reached out his hand, “you're from Earth. You'll want Wi-Fi.”

  She handed over her phone, slightly shocked that this magical place had access to technology as well. Cole pushed a few buttons and then handed it back.

  “Enjoy a Wi-Fi speed like you've never seen before,” he said with a smile.

  He closed the door behind him, leaving her to spin around in awe.

  She certainly wasn't at home anymore.

  She threw herself on the soft bed, dropping her bag by her feet. Staring at the ceiling, she closed her eyes. That transport had been exhausting, and she felt like it was catching up to her now. She took out her phone as it beeped.

  Where is it you are going again? Came a text from her mother.

  None of this had really unsettled her until she saw that text. Suddenly, everything came crashing back to her. She was a reincarnation of a girl who died nearly eighty years ago. The supposed love of her life was a dragon, and he had transported her onto a planet hundreds of thousands of miles away. She was in the dragon palace, and everything the story books said was real.

  “Oh my god,” she said to herself. “What is happening to me?”

  Chapter 6

  It was an hour before Spencer came back to see her. She didn't really mind or notice as her thoughts swirled. But when he entered the room, she sat up with a start, her arms out.

  “I missed you,” she said, and he chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

  “Was it that long?” he asked.

  “No,” she laid her head on his chest, “but it felt like an eternity.”

  “It felt like an eternity in the meeting, as well,” he answered. “Nicholas has an endless supply of problems and not enough agents to deal with them.”

  “Like what?” she sat back, feeling calmer now that he was back with her. She brushed the hair out of her eyes, settling back against the pillows.

  “Don't worry yourself about it,” he said. “We will take care of it. In the meantime, they have invited you to stay the night, and for dinner.”

  “Oh,” she said. “That's very kind. I had thought we'd just go grab food.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she realized that she had probably said something wrong.

  “That's not a thing people do, is it?”

  “Not here,” he answered. “Here, they follow the rules of old. They dress for dinner.”

  “Like, fancy?” she glanced at her backpack. “I did not bring fancy. The nicest thing I brought is a decent pair of jeans.”

  “I'm sure you'll look lovely either way,” he replied. “But if you are in need of a dress, I can certainly ask if you can borrow one. Nicholas' wife is about your size. I'm sure she has a few.”

  “I wouldn't want to be a burden when we just got here,” she said, but he rose.

  “It's no burden,” he said, looking around the room. “I think we stayed in this room before.”

  “My grave,” she said. “I saw the corners of the palace in the hallway. Is that where you got the inspiration for my grave?”

  He turned back to her, a smile on his face.

  “Do you like them?” he asked.

  “Yes, they are beautiful,” she said, searching her mind. “I liked them before, didn't I?”

  “You did,” he said. “You always admired them, no matter how many times we came here. So, when the opportunity came to customize your grave, I thought it was appropriate.”

  “That's nice of you,” she said. “Although the idea of a grave scares me.”

  “Why?” his brow furrowed. “You've always had a beautiful, well-attended funeral, with–”

  “No, not that part,” she said. “Just the idea of staying in one place forever. I always thought that I would be cremated and scattered.”

  “Oh, my love,” he said with a smile, “you aren't exactly staying in one place forever, are you?”

  She paused. “I guess not,” she said with a grin. “So perhaps that explains such a fear.”

  “Give yourself time,” he tried to reassure her. “Things will come back into focus. You will soon feel more like yourself.”

  “Am I different?” she asked, and he let out a breath.

  “A little,” he admitted. “But I'm sure it's just the times. Now, I'll see about that dress.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she reached to undo her hair. “I'll just attempt to make myself pretty while you're gone.”

  “You are always pretty,” he said, as he went to the door. “I'll see you soon.”

  She blew him a kiss and then got off the bed, heading to the vanity.

  Her reflection stared back at her, young and lean, with an oval-shaped face. Her eyes stood out more in the sunlight, making her face asymmetrical. She cocked her head, closing one eye.

  It made her feel almost normal to only see one color. It changed the way she looked–from unique to standard. She had never felt she was beautiful, but then again, she had never thought much about her looks. Her parents had told her it was school that mattered, along with a career and a friendly smile.

  And yet, her eyes were changing her life.

  When Spencer returned, it was with a beautiful, purple dress that took her breath away. It had long sleeves and a full-length skirt that came with layers of tulle underneath it. She could tell by the touch of the fabric that it was more expensive than
anything she had ever owned.

  “Oh my,” she said, taking it. “Thank you. This is beautiful. Although, these sleeves....”

  Normally, a dress with a full skirt would be sleeveless. He cleared his throat as she fingered them. “The women here are more conservative than on Earth,” he said.

  “Old-fashioned,” she said, and he shook his head.

  “It's more about equality. Women are equal to men here in all respects. When Peter was king and he had no wife, it was Ariel by default. The queen owns fifty percent of the kingdom and has equal opinion on all matters. The women do not use any tactics of beauty here; it's unnecessary. Beauty comes in the mind and in the smile.”

  “That's what my parents taught me,” she said. “I was just thinking about that.”

  “That and dragon women are stunning, always,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Almost as stunning as you.”

  “Mmm,” she relaxed in his arms. “Did you want to help me dress?”

  She thought that she was teasing him, but he looked away, stepping back.

  “One day, my love. One day. But for now, I'd rather wait to preserve your modesty.”

  “My reputation,” she said. “It's clashing values, don't you think?”

  “No,” he said, looking up. “I respect you for so much more than what your body can offer. When we are married, we will enjoy all of those pleasures, and it will be worth the wait.”

  “All right,” she smiled, accepting this reason. It was refreshing compared to Earth views, and she found that she enjoyed it. Perhaps it was her upbringing, or perhaps it was just happiness at a change of pace. Either way, she was grateful. “Thank you.”

  “Get changed, and I'll be waiting outside,” he said. “I will escort you to the dining room, where you meet the rest of the royal family.”

  “But no pressure,” she replied, turning back to the mirror and holding the dress up to her neck. “I'll see you in a moment.”

  “Do you need me to send in a maid to assist you?”

  “No, I've got it.” She smiled at him in the mirror. “I've been dressing myself for quite a while. I'll figure it out.”

  “As you wish.” He bowed his head and left.

  As soon as he was gone, she stripped down, stepping into the dress.

  It proved harder than she thought. There weren't any zippers; it was all ties and buttons. She sucked in her small stomach, spinning the dress around to button up the front before turning it around to the back and struggling into the sleeves. She felt the sweat drip down her back and briefly considered getting the maid. But she told herself that she was a strong, independent woman, and she could dress herself.

  It took nearly half an hour before she felt like she looked presentable. She ended up braiding her hair and putting it behind her neck, leaving a few twists hanging down. She didn't usually wear makeup, and so she simply scrubbed her face, hoping she didn't look too tired. She pinched her cheeks and smiled at herself in the mirror, forcing energy into her eyes. Spencer was probably wondering if she died, but she couldn't possibly go to dinner with royals looking like she had just run the track at school.

  She had never pictured herself having dinner with princes in any version of her life. This was just as novel as being transported here.

  In the mirror, her reflection showed a mature, young lady. With a high collar and long sleeves, she felt like a proper adult, her hair dripping down and her eyes sparkling. She was so used to jeans and polos, vintage dresses with cutouts, and black eye liner. The woman that stared back at her made her look twice at herself.

  Maybe she could do this after all.

  She finally stepped into the hallway where Spencer was leaning against the wall.

  “Sorry,” she said. “The dress and I got into a fight.”

  “It was worth the wait,” he assured her, looking her up and down. “You look wonderful.”

  “You clean up nice, too,” she said, noticing that he had changed into a dark suit. It didn't look quite right for Earth, but within these beautiful halls, it was perfect. She almost lost her breath at how handsome he was with his yellow eyes and strong jaw. He held out his arm, and she took it, drifting down the hall.

  “Are there any table manners I should know about?” she asked. “That are different from Earth?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. The only thing that may be different is that no one eats until the king does.”

  “Whose name is Peter,” she remembered. “I can do that.”

  “Then you'll be perfect,” he laid a kiss on her head as they approached the banquet halls. The doors were several feet high and intricately carved. Two guards pulled it open, and Katianna resisted gasping again.

  It was even more beautiful than what she had seen, if that was possible.

  There was a long banquet table, with only a few place settings put out. The table cloth was ivory white, and the plates were crystal with the same gold as the hallways painted around the edge. The cutlery looked to be made of pure white gold, and the glasses at the place settings were majestic tumblers.

  “Oh my,” Katianna said, taking it all in. “I'm almost afraid to eat dinner here. I might ruin something.”

  “This is a dragon table,” Spencer assured her. “It's seen worse than a human dropping food, I promise.”

  “That's a boost for my confidence,” she said, and smiled at him.

  “Spencer.”

  She spun around as a voice spoke. She recognized Nicholas from the pictures, his wife Rosa on his arm.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Nicholas' mouth fell open as Katianna met his eyes. “You weren't joking.”

  “My lord,” Spencer tipped his head. Katianna followed his lead and gave a small curtsey. Rosa was beautiful, clearly a princess, with a tiara woven into her brown hair, and several, heavy rings on her fingers. “May I introduce Katianna, my once and future wife.”

  “I'm Rosa,” the witch-girl said with a smile. “Welcome to Umora. Again, as I understand.”

  “I'm trying to remember,” Katianna gave her a pained smile. “Have we met before, too?”

  “No,” Rosa said, smiling at her husband. “We are recently married, although I did hear about you once.”

  “I told you when she died,” Nicholas said. “Spencer was torn up.”

  “That I was,” Spencer replied.

  “But don't be sad anymore.” Cole entered with Enya on his arm. “She's here. And my brothers will be here shortly.”

  “Oh, the dress looks perfect on you,” Enya went right to Katianna, holding out her hands. Katianna was warmed by her friendliness and smiled.

  “Thank you for lending it to me,” she said.

  “Nonsense,” Enya replied. “The first time I came to Umora, I had nothing to wear as well.”

  “Neither did I,” Rosa pointed out. “I had just given birth hours before.”

  Katianna turned to Rosa. “You win this round,” she said.

  Rosa smiled. “Turns out it was worth it,” she said. “Motherhood does bring on a hunger. Shall we sit at least?”

  She led the way to the table, the men pulling out the chairs for the ladies. Katianna was even afraid to sit on the chairs, for they were so beautiful.

  But she only had the chance to sit for a moment before trumpets blared, and everyone's head turned to the door.

  Spencer rose right away, and she followed suit, looking confused.

  “The king,” he said, and Katianna felt her heart leap.

  What a day this was turning out to be, she thought, as the majestic doors opened.

  Chapter 7

  Peter was clearly a king; there were no two ways about it. Tall and majestic, a crown on his head, and his eyes blazing; he looked like he controlled everything with the twist of his finger. His eyes blazed, and his jaw was strong and set, looking at the table as if he were calculating his next move. He was certainly the most serious of the princes.

  On his arm, his wife was the opposite. Draped in light linen,
her dress the color of clouds, Yvette was small and thin. She was nearly a foot shorter than him and much younger. She was smiling, though, despite the weight of her heavy crown, and her stick-thin arm was locked in his hand.

  Everyone bowed or curtsied, and Katianna knocked her knee against the table trying to do the same.

  Behind him was the final brother, his Irish twin, she understood, and the former king.

  Alexander was slightly shorter than Peter, and Katianna was surprised to see he looked older. His face was grey and drawn, and his temples showed salt-and-pepper against the dark hair. His chest rose and fell with more effort than the others, and his teeth were half clenched.

  Beside him, Ariel was clearly the most beautiful woman in the room. Katianna felt like a child playing dress-up beside the tall red-head. She wore a green dress that was cut in the front, nearly dipping to her naval. Her long, red hair fell in waves nearly to her waist, and she wore a crown as majestic as Yvette, her fingers and neck dazzling in jewels. She looked more of a queen than the actual queen, standing shoulder to shoulder with her husband in flat shoes.

  The others dipped to a bow appropriate to the current Regents, and the men pulled out the chairs for their wives.

  To Katianna's delight, Ariel was seated beside her. She turned to the redhead with a friendly smile.

  “I'm Katianna. I've seen your dancing. You are amazing!”

  Ariel turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. “Thanks,” she said, looking her up and down. “You must be Katianna. We've been briefed.”

  “Briefed?” Katianna asked.

  “On the…unique situation that Spencer claims is happening,” Alexander spoke up, clearing his throat. The servants advanced forward, placing warm platters on the table.

  “How are you, my lord?” Spencer asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I am well, thank you, Spencer,” Alexander said. “It is nice to see you again. Thank you for returning.”

  “Of course, my lord,” Spencer replied, keeping his head bent as he was served.

  “He doesn't look well,” Katianna lowered her voice, whispering to Spencer. He caught her eye, shaking his head, and she understood to ask about it later.

 

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