I studied the princess. She had begun shivering again. Even if I was without an agenda, it would be hard to say no to this girl. Fortunately, her request weaved perfectly into my plans.
I clasped my hands together and bowed my head slightly, in my best imitation of a humble mortal woman. “If that is what you wish, I will come with you, Your Highness.”Who was I?
The princess offered me a small smile in return. Satisfied with my response, she allowed herself to be carried over to oneof the guard’s horses. Once she was safely secured, the guard offered her his cape.
Frail and dehydrated, she still looked completely at ease on the horse. She had obviously grown up riding, unlike myself, who had only ever encountered horses in books. What use did we have for them in Vantillios when we could swim and half the population could saltate?
I eyed the beast warily. “I’ll walk,” I announced to the second guard.
He looked me up and down. “Are you mad?” he asked. “The path is not suitable for walking.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Don’t be daft. The castle is miles away and we must return the princess to her family immediately. If you walk, you will only slow us down.”
I held back a groan. I didn’t like the idea one bit, but I couldn’t afford to do anything that would rouse suspicion amongst these mortals. If riding on the backs of four legged animals was how they travelled, I would need to embrace it. Or at least pretend to embrace it. “Very well,” I said through a sigh. Slinging my pouch over my shoulders, I rearranged my face into a neutral expression. As if this wasn’t completely new and terrifying to me.
Pulse racing, I allowed myself to be lifted onto the horse, immediately feeling off kilter and far too high off the ground. The second guard climbed up behind me and instructed me to hold on tightly to the mane. I refrained from telling him there was no way I was loosening my grip until my feet were safely planted on solid ground again.
The guard tossed a few coins to the fisherman, but it was something behind him that caught my eye. A bird—a raven—stood on the rock near where we had sat only minutes before. Its midnight body clashed against the late morning sun.
Excitement surged through me at the sight. I had alwaysbeen drawn to birds. I envied their freedom to explore the world without bounds. There were several species of colorful native birds in Vantillios, but I had never seen an actual raven before.
As soon as our eyes met, the bird flapped its wings and flew away.
My disappointment was short lived—the beast beneath me began to move. I snapped my head forward, channeling all my energy into holding tightly, as though my life hung in the balance.
Chapter 8
The journey to the castle started out even more unpleasantly than I expected.
We trekked across hilly terrain with steep inclines and low dips that jolted my already tense figure in every direction. To make matters worse, I was uncomfortably aware of the guard’s body seated behind me, and tried to create distance between us by shuffling forwards. My attempts were in vain; every few minutes I inevitably found myself sliding back towards him. The constant readjustment got annoying, so eventually I gave up and allowed myself to be nestled against the unfamiliar male who smelt of body odor and hay. I wasn’t thrilled, but unless I wanted to hike the remainder of the way, I’d have to grit my teeth and endure it.
Despite clutching onto the horse’s mane until my knuckles were white, I was convinced I was going to tumble out of my seat and get trampled. As time passed, I grew slightly less certain of this outcome, and my attention shifted to the dull ache of my ass and thighs. Something told me I’d be feeling it for days to come.
It wasn’t all bad. I wasn’t one to fawn, but even I could admit that I was impressed by the dramatic cliffs, towering trees, overgrown grasses and wildflowers that set the scene for our journey. It was vastly different from the relatively flat landscape of my home in the capital city of Ardalia. Here, there wasn’t apalm tree or mangrove in sight, and there didn’t appear to be any waterfalls, grottoes, or lagoons. Even the air felt different to the humidity of Vantillios. In Solvardunn it was cooler and crisper but I could still detect a hint of salt water in the gentle breeze.
The path we traveled was dense with brush, but we never strayed too far from the ocean. I could hear it, like it was calling me to return home. I tried to tune it out but every so often we would pass a gap in the bushes and I could make out the indigo water shimmering in the distance. To distract myself from the ocean’s call, I put my lessons with Doran to the test by seeing if I could name any of the foreign plants. The sea thrift and heather were easy to spot by the splashes of pink and purple they brought to the scenery. I would have loved to have taken a few for my journal, as they would have pressed beautifully. The long, textured grass I was tempted to reach out and touch, I guessed, was red fescue. The trees were easy—pine and spruce and… silver yew.
I shivered.
Silver yew was the only tree banned in all of Amaros. It was something all Velcarin were taught to fear as the only known substance that could nullify our powers and, in some cases, be deadly. The poison from its berries was lethal, and I had even heard tales of silver yew blades and arrows being used in The Rebellion to kill Velcarin.
Why would the mortals be growing it here? Or was it native to Solvardunn? Either way, my breath didn’t loosen until we had passed it.
The bush became less dense the higher we went, and, eventually, the towering stone walls of the castle came into view. The gatehouse was heavily fortified, but as soon as the guards saw the princess, they scurried to let us in.
I had no idea what to expect of a mortal castle, but as we entered through the iron portcullis, I sucked in a breath.
Built on top of a tall cliff overlooking the ocean, the castle was both intimidating and alluring. Its solid gates, thick walls, battlements and guard towers presented a formidable fortress; against the backdrop of the untamed ocean, it was undeniably impressive.
The castle was a rugged sandstone building with symmetrical columns, towers of varying heights, lofty chimneys, pointed spires, and windows—so many windows. Large rectangular panes sat perfectly placed beneath molded cornices, while smaller box-shaped frames were interspersed along the sloping roof.
I was admittedly intrigued. This feral beauty was so at odds with the gleaming, glinting majesty of Vellamere Palace. I hoped I’d get to explore it.
On either side of the flagstone pathway leading to the main entrance were neatly-trimmed hedges and beds of white and purple flowers I couldn’t name.
At last, we dismounted the horses. Escorted by the guards, I pushed my stiff body forward, making my way towards the oak front doors carved with intricate, swirling designs.
