Page 99 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

Lunette

The coverlet beneath my fingers was the deep green of Larethia’s banners, quilted with gold thread so fine it caught the morning light like a thousand shining stars. The canopy overhead matched, because of course it did. And the mattress…gods. I could’ve stayed here all day. My own was made of rushes and old chicken feathers.

Definitely an upgrade from the stone floor I’d expected to wake up on.

I was either a guest of honor…or a beautifully kept captive. Right now, the distinction mattered less than it should have.

As soon as I sat up to look around, five pounds of fur slammed onto my chest. “Muffin!”

His nose frantically darted around my face.

Yes, I didn’t clean my teeth before passing out for… I looked up at the arched windows. The curtains were pulled back. More than half a day.

With only a little groaning, I propelled my body all the way upright. Muffin scurried off the bed and ascended a set of perches identical to those I’d installed in the cabin. I watched as he darted across a tangled network of them affixed across the stone walls. He disappeared through a freshly cut opening in a pair of massive double doors on the far side of the room.

Oh no. If he got out in this unfamiliar place, he might never find his way back.

I jumped out of bed, just now noticing that my shoes had been removed but I was still wearing yesterday’s clothing.

At least they didn’t strip me.

The room was warm because someone had lit a fire in the hearth.

I walked over to the door on stocking feet and pulled on the bronze door handle, which was as heavy as I’d expected. Whatever I’d expected to find beyond that door…it wasn’t an outdoor sanctuary built for my veska.

I was at least three stories up, standing on a balcony that was so large it felt like it was an elevated stone courtyard clinging to the castle’s inner walls. For a breathless instant, I forgot to hold on to the door, so it slammed shut behind me. I winced but quickly forgot all about the loud noise.

The architecture soared around this private plaza in bright buttresses and sharp arches like the ribcage of some enormous, elegant beast. Carved columns held the vast stone platform aloft. The arched balustrade matched the almost white of the buttresses. Overtop it, and enclosing the entire balcony, was an impossibly fine mesh of metal that faintly buzzed with magic.

Several shrubs, a mix of tall and short varieties I recognized from home, were arranged in pots across the porch’s surface. Muffin wove his long body around branches and stems, his movements filled with the pure joy of having so much room to run again.

The consideration sat strangely in my chest. Owain had meticulously planned for Muffin’s needs, from the start. I’d stopped expecting this kind of attention because it was the kind people usually reserved for things they actually wanted to keep.

Focusing on what was below me was the only buffer against an overwhelming wave of emotion. Living my entire life secluded in the mountains, I’d never seen anything like the private garden below. A perfect square of green lawn lay cradled between the arched galleries. Dormant trees, bushes, and smaller plants stood sentinel along the bright, crushed-stone trail that snaked through the garden.

Given the time of year, it was far too cold to be outdoors in nothing but my day dress, so I hurried back inside. Muffin would be fine since he had a way back in and couldn’t roam too far.

The moment I stepped through the open door, the one on the far end of the room swung open. Reina swept in, dark hair tightly wound into a bun, dark red dress trimmed with black thread. Behind her trailed a score of servants, all dressed in black, each carrying something different. Trunks, silver trays with toiletries, stacks of towels, and lunch.

My stomach rumbled in pleasure.

Reina carried a small wooden box, inlaid with an intricate pattern of bronze, that she placed upon a dressing table.

“…Good morning,” I said, the confusion clear in my voice.

“One of your guards heard the door and called for me,” Reina said briskly, already directing traffic. “In there. No, not there. Gods, you’d think you all were new! Not my most trusted.”

One of my guards?

Great, so I was a prisoner. Unsure what to do with myself, I stood frozen, watching as men carrying shoulder yokes brimming with buckets of steaming hot water flowed in next. Only when I looked in the direction they were headed did I notice the screened-off bathing area. The door was promptly shut behind them.

“You were moved into different rooms at the last minute, so I’ve had to have your things brought here.”

My things? Twenty armfuls were my things? And given the perches everywhere, it didn’t look last-minute.

“Wait!” Reina’s voice whipped out to stop the servant carrying the silver tray covered with toiletries. “What is this? This is not what I ordered.”

The scent of the soap she was holding hit me from fifteen feet away. Vanilla. Cream. Not the sharp tang of lye or the delicate aroma of floral-scented oils and cleansers.