Takal’s sudden turn snapped me from my thoughts. Her sharp eyes pinned me as a knowing smile curled her lips. She gestured me ahead. “Your room, Princess.”
I spared her no gratitude. My attention shifted to Garett, who paused for a moment before pushing the entrance open.
Once inside, despair hit like a battering ram. My feet moved of their own accord, bringing me deeper into the space as the door thudded shut. The chamber swallowed me in its stillness. My gaze darted to the dim lanterns casting muted light across the stone walls. It wasn’t a guest suite. It was a cell dressed as one.
A cramped sitting area opened into a modest bedchamber. There were no grand windows, no dressing room. My wardrobe, shipped ahead of our journey, should have been here. Yet no sign of it greeted me. Unease twisted my stomach.
My feet dragged me to the bed, exhaustion like a heavy cloak pulling me into its embrace. Edith would have brought order to this chaos, but I’d insisted she stay behind. The journey would have been too taxing on her, though part of me admitted I didn’t want her prying eyes fixed on Kallias and me.
Fyrn had been my other option, but illness kept her from traveling. I hated the relief that realization brought. Without either of them, I felt stripped bare, vulnerable in this hostile estate. The disdain from the Phares family during dinner rattled me more than I cared to admit. Their venomous remarks still lingered, as did the burden of my deceit—lies about magic I didn’t wield, about power I did not hold.
I let myself fall against the mattress, grateful at least for the feel of feathers beneath me instead of straw. My body ached from hours of riding; muscles in my thighs throbbed, and my lower back pulsed with soreness. When I rolled onto my stomach, I cradled my head in my arms, debating whether I could endure another day on horseback or if I’d risk humiliation by requesting a carriage.
The Sol family would host us next. Their reputation at court painted them as kind, but estates often revealed truer natures. If they mirrored the Phares in cruelty, the week ahead would stretch unbearably long.
My thoughts spiraled, each worry tangling in knots. Pressing my palms into my eyes, I groaned at the sheer weight of decisions yet to be made.
A knock shattered my restless haze. I bolted upright, heart lurching, muscles screaming in protest. Another set of heavy pounding came before I could stand.
Who would dare bang on my door so insolently?
I scrambled to it, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress as I went. When I pulled it open, I froze.
Kallias stood before me, dark brows slashed low over eyes the color of storm-tossed seas. The muscle in his jaw jumped with tension, his lips compressed into a razor-thin line. His gaze flicked down to my boots, then back to my face.
My pulse hammered. Whatever brought him here, it wasn’t good.
“Come with me.”
Kallias spun on his heel, his cloak flaring in an arc behind him. I cast a quick glance at Greaves, searching for a clue to the king’s temper—or if his ire rested on me. The man gave only a curt nod, offering no explanation. I swallowed a lump of unease, then hurried after the king of Radaan.
The echo of boots accompanied us as Garett and Leon followed behind. Kallias led with a certainty that spoke of intimate familiarity with the tower, ascending staircases and rounding corners without hesitation. I lifted the hem of my dress, struggling to match his pace, the fabric whispering against my legs. The burn in my calves stung, but I swallowed any plea for him to slow. I fought the urge to ask what had riled him so much that he’d forgotten to walk beside me, leaving me to trail him like a lower noble.
But Iwasless than him.
We were equals only behind closed doors.
Another staircase loomed, and my breath came in shallow bursts by the time we emerged onto a bustling floor. Servants moved in streams, converging in chaos, arms laden with blankets, lanterns, and buckets. They darted through the halls with shallow bows, too frantic to pause for the king’s presence.
Kallias waded into the torrent without breaking stride, scattering workers like startled birds. I lingered for half a heartbeat, catching the startled look of a young maid who nearly collided with him. Her wide eyes found mine, and I offered a fleeting smile before plunging after him.
The new chambers glowed with warmth, walls painted in ivory and every sconce ablaze with light. Servants bustled in and out, arranging furniture, stacking firewood, and filling basins with steaming water. These rooms spoke of royalty, a stark difference from the cell I had been shown earlier.
Cool night air whipped into me as we rounded another corner, tugging strands of hair loose and chilling my skin. Kallias slowed his pace, but I couldn’tstop. As a moth to the flame, my feet carried me to the sad excuse of a balcony—drawn by some unseen force.
Beyond the sturdy railing, Phares sprawled like a constellation brought to earth, its lights winking as if sharing a secret. My breath caught at the sight, and the wind billowed my skirts, teasing my sleeves.
The height sent a thrill through me, and I twisted, trying to glimpse the peak above. The gale seemed alive, plucking at my hair and pressing against my arms as if urging me closer to the edge. It reminded me of the Nest, high atop the Spire, where clouds would shroud the island, making the cities below feel as distant as the stars. The wind here had the same playful spirit, as familiar as an old friend, though it lacked the echo of dragon roars.
“You should have never been placed in that room.” Kallias’ tone was edged with simmering anger. A heavy cloak settled along my shoulders, carrying his scent—spiced cedar with an undercurrent of something sharper.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” I said, pulling the warm fabric tighter.
The last of the staff retreated, leaving Greaves leaning against the far wall. He caught my eye and the corner of his mouth lifted a fraction in response to my grin.
“The Phares have always been difficult, but this?” Kallias gestured toward the room behind. “This is an insult to Radaan itself. An entire floor is ours, and they try to quarter us among minor nobles.”
“Have they done this before?” I asked, leaning forward over the railing. The city below blurred as the wind swept past my face, carrying me back to memories of flying on Argos.
