Drawing a dagger from his side, Matthias carefully opened the door and stepped out. A soft breeze blew across his skin and the smell of vanilla, blackberries, and a mix of the ocean wafted through the trees. A twig snapped and Matthias swung around, dagger raised, ready in defence.
“Hello, Prince.”
Chapter Eight
The Cabin
Memories of the incident over a week ago resurfaced as Adalia patrolled the borders of the Veil in District Seven, southwest of the sleepy seaside village along the Drayton sea.
Thankfully, no further hauntings had breached the Gates and there’d been no sightings of Thorns attempting to sneak through tears in the Oscuro Veil.
Shiloh had taken a team of three other Lightners to trail the top end of the Oscuro Veil in District Seven, and Nikolas and his group patrolled the centre.
Adalia was with two soldiers scouting the bottom end, closest to the ocean.
It was a beautiful day in The Grey, and many villagers were out in their gardens, planting and harvesting. Anglers were off-loading nets of seafood to be sorted and sold in the marketplace. Adalia smiled at the passersby, even though they couldn’t see her.
She and the two Lightner soldiers quietly travelled through the square towards the deeper end of the Veil. The sounds from town dying off the closer to Oscuro they came.
Nikolas and Shiloh had been quite attentive to Adalia all week and as much as she appreciated their love and concern, it was nice to breathe for a moment without someone asking if she was ok or in any pain.
All her wounds had healed and the scrape on her face was fading daily; she was grateful that it wouldn’t leave a scar.
The two Lightners up ahead were engaging in conversation and Adalia hung back, enjoying the quiet of the rocky trail that gently wove itself through the trees. Her presence startled a flock of birds, and they darted off to find a new place to feed. She breathed deep, enjoying the woodsy scent, and smiled. The Grey wasn’t as grand and vibrant as Lucius, but it was still beautiful. A wonderful place to live a simple and wholesome life.
Her honey-coloured mare plodded along the road, its fur glinting in the sun like a thousand tiny flecks of gold.
While lost in thought, Adalia heard a tune floating in the breeze. Stilling her horse, she looked toward the sound. It was coming through the Veil. She wanted to explore it, but her head told her no. She shouldn’t step through the Veil without invitation, especially if there wasn’t a Gate—but her heart tugged her towards the milky curtain.
What if it was the blue-eyed prince?
But what if it was the–King?
The tune touched her ears again, but this time it was accompanied by a voice so faint she could barely make it out. A sound so melodic and pure, her heart raced in anticipation of every note.
“You two go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you. My mare needs a drink of water. There’s a stream just over here,” Adalia called to her companions. They turned and nodded, their conversation picking back up as they meandered along.
Adalia slipped from the horse’s back and tied her to a low-hanging branch. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she murmured.
Running her hand against the coldness of the curtain, she tried to feel for a section that might let her stumble through. A fewmoments later, she felt a weak point. Pushing against it, she slipped through the tear in the milky Veil.
Her mind screamed with a million thoughts. She was doing the very thing she hated Thorns did. A tendril of guilt laced across her chest like a ribbon and she swallowed it down.
Get in and get out, she told herself.
Adalia cautiously viewed her surroundings. The enemy kingdom was filled with densely packed trees, making it difficult for her to see far.
Black roses grew in clusters scattered across the forest floor. Their scent was a mix of sweet and sour. It was her first time seeing them, and Adalia found the roses to be quite pretty despite where they grew.
To her left was a small stone cabin in the distance. Smoke drifted out of the chimney, and the curtains on the windows were half drawn. The male voice carried through the air, mesmerising Adalia. Never had she heard a sound so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.
“I walk the halls of my mind and, like my heart, I find them empty.
I’m wide awake in a world built for sleep and my body is ready.”
She neared closer to see if she could peer through the dusty glass window. One misstep snapped a twig in half and the song instantly stopped. Not wanting to be discovered, she dashed behind a tree and held her breath–glancing around the side of the thick tree trunk cautiously.
The door to the cabin eased open ever so slowly.
