She scootched toward the sound, careful to avoid disturbing the tapestry and craned her neck to peer out from behind it.
Just barely, she could make out the princess’s hands, holding a ring of golden keys.
“And did you want the crimson or the maroon curtains, Highness?” came another female voice, likely a maid.
Now admittedly, Lia wasn’t aware of the context. Still, both crimson and maroon seemed too somber for the Tavia she used to know. Then again, given her choice of fiance, Lia realized she should be grateful they weren’t decorating their future living quarters in black and grey.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tavia sighed. “You pick.”
The tone of melancholy in her voice was not lost on Lia.What had Julian done to her?
“Yes, Highness,” the servant answered.
A succession of clinking sounds followed as Tavia lingered where she was flipping through the keys on her ring. Lia crept closer to the edge of the tapestry—moving past the depiction of a stormy wave crashing over a ship—for a better look.
The princess’s fingers had come to rest on a weatherworn key of silver set with a deep blue saphyre on the handle. She seemed to be looking at it from the way she was turning it slowly in her hand. (Lia wished she could see the princess’s face.)
Then, she gave the little key a thoughtful three taps on her palm and started down the hallway away from Lia’s position. Lia let her put a bit of distance between the two of them and, darting from one hiding spot to the next, followed the princess into the depths of her new home.
13. Second-Hand Romance
Tyrell glanced at the study door as he sipped his tea. What had seemed like hours ago (but was actually only about ten minutes prior), Lia had disappeared into the halls of a home that had already claimed seven maidens.
And here he was, sipping tea and making small talk like a perfect specimen of masculine courage. Tyrell died a little inside.
“It’s such a shame Julian isn’t here!” Lord Salamar sighed.
“He’s not?” Tyrell asked, snapping his attention back to his host. “I thought he left Iseldis yesterday—”
“Just long enough to leave us his princess,” Lady Salamar explained. “But dear Julian had to go to attend to some business before the wedding.”
“So Princess Tavia’s here?” Tyrell asked, sipping his tea and glancing back toward the hall.
“Of course!” Lord Salamar explained. “She’s been preparing the East Wing. They’re going to move in there together once they are married.”
Lady Salamar took her husband's hand and smiled at him. “I’m so happy one of our sons decided to stay with us.”
“Well . . . I understand he has . . .” Tyrell searched his mind, and then turned slightly green. “Attachmentsto this place.”
“Yes, yes,” Lord Salamar smiled. “He always has some project or other underway in the old Leviathan hall. I don’t think he’s ever going to finish.”
Tyrell choked on his tea. “Project?” he asked. “What kind of project?”
Lord Salamar laughed. “We don’t know. He never lets us in there.”
“But dear Julian’s always been that way,” Lady Salamar smiled. “Very private. Doesn’t want his parents nosing about in his business.”
“I’ll say not,” Tyrell mumbled.
“See! Tyr understands!” laughed the old lord.
Tyrell forced out a tiny chuckle.
“It’s no trouble,” Lady Salamar added. “I prefer Charybdis Hall for entertaining anyway. The light is so much better over there and of course, there’s always Scylla Hall if we need extra space.”
Tyrell thought of theonehall in his father’s manor that they referred to as The Hall and suddenly felt like a peasant. If this castle was large enough to have three halls, it could hide any number of dangerous mysteries.
Again, he glanced at the door.
