What he wore made Sol do a subtle double take. A leather bodysuit reinforced with what looked eerily like reptilian scales.
The man smiled. “I don't believe we've had the chance to formally meet.” He outstretched a hand. “It has been an eventful couple of days.”
Sol returned a small smile to seem polite and loosely grasped his hand in what she figured would be a handshake. But he flipped her grip and planted a kiss to her knuckles instead.
It was likely customary to greet a woman of status this way, but gods did it make Sol want to bolt from the interaction. “I—uh. Nice to meet you,” she said, withdrawing her hand to her side.
“My name is Ezra. I am the heir of the Polimande lands.” Ezra leaned against the railing behind him, the only thing preventing a tumble from the level to the foyer below. “I’ve done nothing but prepare for this opportunity since I Settled.”
“You—you’ve done nothing but wait for the opportunity to marry into Rimemere royalty?”
“To rule beside a glorious Yarrow.” He traced her with glowing eyes.
Instead of listening to every fiber of her being that warned her to run, she gave herself a mental shove.
Queenly. Act Queenly.
Raising her chin slightly, she dipped her fingers into the water. “I thought I was no more than a myth until recently.”
“Ah, but the South never lost hope that Queen Irene left us an Heir.” Again, his gaze roved her from head to toe. “And such a beautiful one, too.” Yeah, no.
“Well, Ezra, lovely to meet you.” Sol gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, the kind she would give the Yavenharrow sailors after they had too much liquor and she needed them to pay their tab and leave. “But I must leave. I have a… someone waiting for me.”
Not waiting for a response, she began her way back to the stairs. Mercifully, Ezra stayed where he was, examining her from a distance. “Prince Xanthos, I presume?”
Sol paused at the beginning of the steps and met his gaze. Although it was a lie, she would rather the man think she was in fact going to meet the one person they all seemed to fear. “Yes.”
“I’d be careful, Princess.” Ezra pushed off the railing. “Xanthos and Yarrows tend to attract chaos when together.”
As Sol continued her descent, she said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She tried to shake the bizarre encounter as she explored the other floors but was ultimately too distracted to truly take in the Villa’s raw beauty. It seemed like each floor corresponded to a god, the notion finally clicking as Sol reached the bottom.
Hers seemed to be the one mostly absent of elemental memorabilia. The fourth floor appeared to represent Flora, with its greens and plant life. The third was loudly Emberdon with crimson walls, black furniture, and golden accents reminiscent of a flame. The second floor was serene and bright, with lovely baby-blue hues and a large fountain with mementos of Aquarene carved into its stone. Finally, the main floor where Sol now stood was constructed of muted beiges, down to the sandstone pillars that stretched all the way to the very top of the place. Although there was no clear indication the floor belonged to Winderlyn’s memory, the paintings of clouds and symbols for air etched around the walls were enough for Sol to make the assumption.
She craned her head all the way up. That left the fifth floor to be Warren’s.
Of course it did.
Sol scowled at the door to her room, tiny in the distance, and continued her way around the main floor. The dining area where the spiral of despair had started was empty, the large rectangular table bare aside from a bowl of fruit. The eating schedule was consistent and hopelessly out of line with Sol’s own appetite, so she snagged an apple as she continued into the depths of the Villa. She hadn't truly ventured around the area, mostly out of defiance for the reason she was there to begin with.
Just as she made a turn into the next hallway, she paused. It would have been easy to miss had the engraving not been a personal beacon to her. A few steps before the corner to the next room, the corridor forked to her left into what seemed like a pointless, rectangular extension that only had a mirror at eye level and an unremarkable plant beneath it. Sol stepped into the peculiar space, only an arm’s length in all directions, then looked down at what had called her to it.
The main floor of the Villa was constructed of a muted, beige tile; the ones beneath her feet no different. However, carved on a singular one, as if with liquid gold itself, was a six-pointed star.
Sol plopped down on the floor beside it, touching her necklace which bore the same shape.
“What are you?” She traced the peaks of the stars along the tile with her fingers—the tile clicked.
It sank into the ground slightly with a soft sound, then an echo had Sol turn to the wall behind her.
The outline of a door etched into the wallpaper.
She smiled.
Found you.
A slick coat of adrenaline tugged at her chest as she crawled to it and pushed, covering her face with a forearm when the moment awoke a film of dust. As if pulled by phantom hands, a large panel of the wall fell away into itself, sliding out of view to reveal darkness.
