“I have never been more serious. Walk with me like this. Feel the grass.”
He hesitates for a moment, glancing around, as if expecting someone to see this un-princely behavior. But then, with a deep sigh, Daed pulls off his boots, one at a time. The moment his bare feet touch the grass, he freezes. His expression shifts, from wary to surprised, and then something softer. He flexes his toes against the ground, feeling the softness of the earth, the warmth of the sun-soaked grass.
“This is... strange,” he mutters.
“It’s good, you’ll get used to it,” I insist, taking his hand in mine and tugging him forward gently. “Just walk.”
And so we do, side by side, feeling the grass, the sun on our faces. The storm that rages beyond the island feels like a distant memory now, something left behind in the world we’ve escaped from. I feel Daed’s gaze for a long moment, and even when the hardness returns to his eyes, something in him has shifted.
As we near the castle, its grandeur becomes clearer, and it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Nothing like the dark, imposing Baev'kalath with its endless shadows and gothic spires. This place... it breathes with light. Its stone is bleached pale, almost white, glowing softly in the sunlight that bathes every corner of the island. Tall, open windows stretch along the walls, letting the light pour in from every direction. There are no heavy curtains or iron bars, just vast expanses of glass that reflect the blue sky and the golden fields.
The castle itself feels open, alive in a way that Baev'kalath never could. Where Daed’s home is steeped in rain and cold, always surrounded by the howling wind and the weight of a dark history, this place is the opposite.
It feels like it was made to embrace the warmth, the light, the world around it.
Flowers climb along the walls, bright and colorful, weaving between the stones as if they’ve always belonged here. Sunlight bounces off everything—the white stone, the wide pathways, the golden banners that flap softly in the gentle breeze.
As soon as we enter the castle, my eyes catch the grand staircase that winds its way upward in a graceful spiral, the banister carved from smooth, pale wood, glowing softly in the afternoon sun. Without waiting, I rush toward the staircase, my bare feet barely making a sound on the polished wood. I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips as I take the steps two at a time, the wide spiral carrying me higher, higher, until I reach the landing at the top.
I turn the corner and burst into a bedroom, gasping at the sight. The grand chambers sprawl out before me, bathed in light that pours in through the open balcony. It’s massive, with high ceilings and soft, white walls. The bed is enormous, its canopy draped in pale, sheer curtains that flutter in the gentle breeze coming from outside. The linens are the color of cream, soft and inviting, and the whole room smells faintly of fresh flowers.
I find the perfect spot by the window for my vine, then I can’t help but run to the balcony, the breeze lifting my hair as I step outside. From here, the view is breathtaking—the island stretching out below us in vibrant greens and golds, the rivers glistening like diamonds, and beyond, I see a small forest that I’m curious to explore. The storm is still a distant threat, but here, within the eye, everything is calm, peaceful.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm my face, listening to the grass below swaying gently in the breeze.
Behind me, I hear Daed enter the room, his presence unmistakable. I turn to find him standing in the doorway, watching me with that same intense gaze, his arms crossed overhis chest. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The sunlight plays across his face, softening his sharp features.
“You look… comfortable,” he says quietly, his voice low.
“And you’ve already got some color in your cheeks,” I reply with a grin.
“It’s because you made me walk for hours. In the sun. In wet leather,” he says, dipping his head for emphasis.
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t hours.” I try not to cast my eyes over the leather clinging to his thighs, but I’m not sure I do well. “Besides. I doubt I could make the Prince of the Sundered Kingdoms do anything he did not want to do.”
“I think it would surprise you what you could make the Prince of the Sundered Kingdoms do, wife.”
Daed dips his chin and strides towards me, his gaze so intrusive I turn my back to him and stare blankly over the balcony. I hear his steps across the floor and my skin prickles at the thought of what may come next. But I am also finally at peace, and I do not want Daed’s fickle interest in me to ruin this meager happiness.
In the distance, I catch a glimpse of Solena and Orios walking together in the gardens below, and it provides a timely distraction. That is until I realize Daed is not aware of their relationship as I am.
When I glance at him over my shoulder, his eyes are narrowed on the pair, watching as their hands brush.
“If we were in Baev’kalath, he would be stripped of his Reaper armor,” Daed states, a distaste on his tongue.
I gulp, realizing my promises to Solena mean nothing if Daed punishes Orios here and now.
“It is a ridiculous law,” I say tersely. “Allowing your greatest warriors a sliver of happiness does not make them less loyal or ferocious. Even when you took that honor from Arax, which was completely unnecessary, by the way, he still pledged his life tohis house. To punish Orios and Solena would be one of the more heartless things you—”
Daed raises a hand, his eyebrow arched. “Take a breath, Amara. I saidifwe were in Baev’kalath, which we clearly are not, because I am not wearing any shoes.”
I glimpse his pale bare feet on the marble, and a laugh escapes me. “You could have put them back on.”
“I will,” Daed says defensively. “In good time.” He tips his chin to Orios and Solena. “The same with them. I cannot ignore the oaths he took, but I can overlook them for a moment.”
“Is all this sunlight having an effect on you?” I ask with a smile.
Daed says nothing. He would never admit that perhaps he likes it here, this world that is not so jagged and hard. He turns from the balcony, and when I glance over my shoulder at him, I catch the way his eyes trail over the room, taking it all in. Eventually, his gaze lands on the bed—a massive, inviting thing draped in those soft, fluttering curtains. I follow his gaze, and for a moment, the two of us are caught in a strange, unspoken pause.
