“Mustn’t be so top-secret if your governors know where it is.”
“They don’t. Upon entering the wagon, they’re temporarily put to sleep with a haze of slumbering gas, then awakened once they reach the main hub inside the White Fang.”
“A sleeping haze? Is it very toxic?”
“Only in high doses, and only to humans.”
He must grasp me thinking of Tiana, because he says, “There’s no lasting hallucinogenic effect on half-bloods. It’s been extensively tested.”
I don’t ask on who, reticent to learn that they’ve trialed the toxin on animals or humans, even though it’s probably the case.
“Want a peek inside?”
“Of course.”
He squeezes my hand and tows me toward the gleaming wagon that’s as sleek as the bullets which have cropped into existence in recent months. A press of his finger against a large glowing button unseals a sliding metal door. Where the outside is sleek, the inside is lavish—blue-carpeted cabins glistening with lacquered wainscotting and mirrored ceilings.
“It’s only the royal trolley that’s this decadent. The rest of the rolling stock is plain, made up of wood floors and benches, or sleeper pods for those who travel cross-kingdom.”
I run my fingers along the timber framework of the walls, marveling at its mirror-smoothness and the level of details the carpenter has managed to carve into these panels.
He tugs me through a wagon set with three varnished tables. “The dining car for the long hauls.”
And then we’re passing by a galley kitchen and into what must be the train’s sitting room, for it’s long and filled with blue two-seaters and glass accent tables on metal pedestals.
“Is this train equipped with a sleeping haze as well?”
“Yes. My two trains are. The lever to activate the haze is at the entrance, inside the coat closet. I’ll show you on our way out. But first, I want to show you the master bedroom.”
We walk back the way we’ve come, bypass the entryway, then stride single file down a long, narrow corridor toward a door that Konstantin pops open with a flick of his wrist this time.
The bedchamber steals the air from my lungs.
“My father loved the play of light on mirrors and the color of our summer skies,” Konstantin explains as I spin on myself to take in the mural depicting said-summer skies and the panels of reflective metal and glass that give the illusion of infinite space.
“I see that,” I murmur, wishing this was the beginning of a journey across his land. “Once Mestyla is found and…neutralized, can we take a trip through Glace? Sans sleeping haze, of course.”
He bands his arms around my middle from behind and tucks me in close. “I would like nothing more.”
I meet his incandescent stare in the mirror. “Goddess, I’m short compared to you.”
A small smile touches his lips as he perches his smooth chin on top of my head as though to drive our height difference in further. I hug his arms, then crane my neck and twist my head for a kiss, which he leans over to deliver.
For long minutes, I get lost in the sensation of his lips and arms, in the calmness and plushness of our surroundings, in the dream of him and me. But then a knock on the open cabin door slings me back to reality.
Aodhan clears his throat. “Glad you’re not naked. I don’t think I could’ve recovered.”
“You wouldn’t have lived long enough to recover,” Konstantin replies.
Aodhan taps his feather tattoo. “Me. Immortal male. Remember?”
“I’m sure Lore would’ve had much to say about you seeing his daughter naked.”
Aodhan rolls his eyes. “Have you never stopped by the Baths in the Sky Kingdom? Everyone walks around naked. Even the Princess of Luce.”
Konstantin’s arms tighten.
“That was back in your day, Aodhan. Since the advent of Phoeppa’s bathing wear, most of us no longer prance around in the nude. Only the exhibitionists.” I glance up at Konstantin. “Which I’m not.”
