In another heartbeat, Dorsan wrenched open the door. “We’ve arrived, My Lady.”
Chapter 14
The Mist Thief
I could not benear my nightmare prince. What a fitting name. He was a stunning terror that kept infecting my mind, my heart, until I lost my bearings. Until I could not return to the safety of my strategic plans.
Dorsan held out an arm for me to place my palm, formal and frigid.
We were here to represent the poise of the Dokkalfar clans. In truth, in my new home, it seemed snobbish regality was the interloper.
Laughter and curses and foul jests rolled through the crowds outside the palace.
Jonas’s mother was positioned in front of a man who kept tossing a leather pouch back and forth in his rune-inked fingers. The queen shoved his shoulder, and he did much the same, even tousling her hair until the king stepped between them.
They laughed.
There wasn’t malice in their movements.
My stomach tightened until bile rose in my throat. How was I to do this? All my life, tutors guided me in etiquette aimed for royal condescension.
Here, it was hard to make out who held a title and who didn’t.
“My Lady?” Dorsan pressed. “Is there something the matter?”
“Everything.” I kept a distance from the unloading. No one seemedto notice. Not yet. “I was not the princess the Dokkalfar desired, always falling short of the expectations. Now, I do not know how to be . . . this.”
Alvers seemed a touch uncouth, but also free.
Dorsan never broke his stern observance. “You will learn their ways. You must. This is your place now.”
My place. I felt as though I had no place.
Royals were meant to be dignified. They were the figureheads of the kingdoms, never faltering. Cara would be horrified to see a queen tossing a roll of furs over her shoulder, or a king speaking with those unloading their coaches like they were his equal.
My grandfather would be ashamed, but I envied them.
I closed my eyes until the jagged tension eased in my chest. “Klockglas. This is Klockglas.”
“The Black Palace is what we call it.”
Hair raised on the back of my neck whenhisvoice brushed against my ear again.
“I have studied maps of your lands. I thought the royal house was in Klockglas.”
“It is.” Jonas came to my side. “But the Black Palace is the whole of this hill. It’s practically a town all its own.”
Behind the portcullis folk walked the grounds. Courtiers in woolen tunics and dresses. Some with long bows and spears. There were a few guards with red cloaks, the only hint of a uniform at all.
Towers with sharp spires topped the palace and sliced through fading wisps of the chill like gnarled fingers. Black stone and dark wood shaped the walls. From what I could count, the palace was made of four levels.
Lancet windows boasted the only color. Stained in paintings of white blooms and vines on some, others depicted ravens in flight or moonless nights.
“Thoughts, Wife?” Much the same as the shore, a sliver of vulnerability broke his tone. He wanted me to delight in his home.
“It is the most expansive royal grounds I’ve seen. Greater than Natthaven’s courtyards.”
“Truly a marvel, My Lord.” Dorsan dipped his chin, playing his rolewell. The slight twitch to his nose, I wasn’t so certain my fellow elven spoke true.
