She appeared to consider that for a moment before she said, “I’d like to see Shadowfen in the sunlight. Here is fine.”
Of course it was.
He held in his sigh as Razik pushed open the iron gates, the metal creaking and echoing in the now still night.
Tenebrae Halls was a large manor house that could have been classified as a miniature castle. Larger than any of the estate homes in Aimonway, it was sprawling. Stretching to both the left and right from the main doors, the towering west andeast wings were manor homes in and of themselves. There was also a tower stretching to the sky in the middle. Their boots echoed on the stone floors when they entered the main doors. A set of curving stairs ran up each side of the grand foyer, marble statues and dark paintings adorning the space.
It didn’t take long for someone to greet them, and the male led them down a maze of halls until they came to the west wing. Razik was given a smaller set of rooms next to the suite that he and Kailia were ushered into.
“Is there anything else I can bring you, your Majesties?” the escort asked, standing just inside the door.
Cethin glanced at Kailia, finding her taking in the space, but he knew she was listening to everything being said as well.
“Do you need anything, Kailia? Food? Wine? Hot water for a bath?”
She paused at that last one, looking back over her shoulder. “There are no pipes to carry the water here?”
He shook his head. “Tenebrae Halls is one of the oldest buildings in Avonleya. Some say it’s as old as the kingdom itself. They haven’t wanted to alter the original structure.”
“I do not need anything,” she replied, turning back to inspecting the room, no doubt counting exits and planning escape routes.
“Warm water to wash up in the basin if it’s not too much trouble,” Cethin answered, turning back to the male. He held out a few coin as well, which the male swiped up with a small bow of his head before leaving them alone.
“Is this where I would have lived if I’d truly been from here?” Kailia asked, draping her cloak over the back of a winged armchair.
“Perhaps,” Cethin said, removing his own cloak. Ashes from the fight fluttered to the ground. “With your skill set, more than likely.”
“What does that mean?”
She’d drifted to a window, pulling back the curtain to peer out into the darkness. There wasn’t much by way of moonlight tonight, and certainly not in Shadowfen. The clouds in the sky were as dense as the fog along the ground. Even so, a small stream of moonlight trickled in, illuminating her warm features. Combined with the flickering of the sconces, she looked like an ethereal huntress with her bow still looped across her chest.
“You’ve been quiet since the fight,” he ventured, avoiding her question and taking a seat in the armchair to unbuckle his boots. More white ashes drifted off him. The sight of them made him realize he definitely should have requested bathing water, and he lifted a hand, a swirl of darkness carrying his request to the staff asking for more water and some wine.
Kailia let the curtains fall closed, drifting to another window and pulling back the drapes.
“Something you want to talk about?” Cethin tried again.
“No,” she answered without looking at him.
“It might help.”
That had her turning, her brow pinched in a way that told him she was truly confused. “How would talking help?”
“Sometimes just saying things out loud helps ease the burden of carrying them,” he replied, moving his boots to the side of the armchair before settling back to watch her.
She moved closer with that predatory grace she possessed before lowering into the armchair opposite him. “What would you like to talk about?”
Cethin shrugged. “Whatever you’d like. It doesn’t have to be anything important. It can be casual conversation if you prefer.”
“That seems pointless.”
He huffed a laugh. “I’m sure it does, tiny fiend, but casual conversation can be as revealing as watching from the smoke and ashes. Speaking of which…”
He trailed off with a knowing look, wondering if she’d pick up on what he was insinuating.
“This doesn’t seem like casual conversation,” she said with a small frown, apparently understanding just fine. “This feels like a pointed and direct one.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Tell me your favorite color.”
