“You could ferry me,” I retort, under my breath.
She bursts into wild laughter. “I suppose I could,” she quips. “But what’s the point? You’re nearly there.”
“I’d rather not break my neck,” I retort and she gives me an impish grin.
“As keen as you are to stand on the other side of the veil, I’m not going to let that happen,” she teases as we continue in a slow descent.
As we approach the next landing, more of the foyer below comes into view and my steps slow further.
“Good gods,” I say with a breathy laugh.
“Yeah.” Eve drags the word. “This is all Lilith.”
We cross the landing, stopping along the banister. Peering down, the whole of the grand foyer is revealed—and it’stransformed.
Streaming black and silver banners hang from the vaulted ceiling. They billow in an unfelt breeze, the Witherhorn family crest flashes silver at the end of a swaying ribbon of shadow. The family crest… it’s a silver raven clutching a sprig of ivy in its claws.
Nektos… touches all things it seems.
The floor below buzzes with castle staff, an abundance of guests standing throughout the foyer and more streaming through the open entry doors. It is aseaof black suits and dresses and cloaks and hats. There’s laughter, and smiles, and people stopping toadmire Lilith’s work.
I’ve never seen Castle Erus so… full. Busy.
Any other day the foyer lies mostly empty. A few guards, perhaps a couple passing staff… neverthis.Theyare the sources of the sound I heard above. Muted conversations, voices kept low as they take in the same decorative wonders and congregate around a few tall tables, chatting.
Towering arches of near-black roses, verdant ferns, and bright moss line the silver-edged, black runner stretching from the doors through the foyer. And near the center of the space, a black marble, five-tiered fountain—a godsdamnedfountain—stands. It, too, has been decorated with the same flowers and ferns as the rest of the space. The gentle sound of the flowing crystalline water is mostly lost to the voices. And there… in the basin—flashes of color.
Jewelfish.
The same from the arboretum.
“It’s too much,” I say, swallowing against my pounding heart.
“I tried to tell Lilith…” Eve trails off, sighing. “But she wants Erus to know you.”
I grimace.
Ryc wants the same.
“Where am I supposed to meet Ryc?” I ask over my shoulder, trying not to sound as nervous as I feel.
Raevi said something about the foyer earlier, but I’ll be damned if I can remember exactly what now.
I shouldn’t be nervous.
None of this should matter.
These people, this title, the wholeceremonyshouldn’t matter tome.But it does matter. Because it matters toRyc.
And that… well that leaves me a nervous mess.
I don’t want to disappoint.
And for the first time it’s not out of fear of punishment—I can endure whispers, scathing looks, and accusations. But Ryc doesn’t deserve the scorn of his people on my account. Nektos hasn’t given him a choice in this matter.
Raevi’s brown eyes meet mine. “In the foyer below, Your Majesty.”
Raevi’s use of the title tightens the already massive knot in my stomach.
