My heeled boot lands on royal Goreon grounds, and then the other, and I bask briefly in the moment of this milestone while staring upward at countless spires needling into the snowy night sky.
“Queen Veya of the Night Kingdom, we welcome you,” a male says in a tone I’mcertainis not genuine.
I shift my gaze from the imposing fortress, blinking snowflakes from my lashes, and I’m met with his red eyes piercing me with disdain above his armor and forced smile.
“I’m General Balor. You can follow me.”
I know who he is. He’s been Nerian’s henchman as long as I’ve been alive.
Second positions himself inches from my side, Charlotte and Emmanuel behind us, and our guards beyond them.
The frosty chill clings to my skin, a numbness I’m unsure will fade as we climb the stone steps of Goreon Castle, wind blowing my cloak and biting at my eyes. I haven’t felt bitter cold like this in a long time. The bleak weather magnifies the sneers and smirks around us, my gaze snagging on frigid, unwelcoming faces. Like they all have a secret of their own, too.
General Balor saunters down an ornate grand foyer, and the walls are a twisting blend of carved ebony stone and thick veins of gold, a swirling fire in the night.
It’s admittedly striking. And almost as beautiful as my own castles.
But unlike the Night Kingdom, Goreon didn’t build their wealth on the backs of those who could bear the weight; they built it on the spines and from the pockets of their humans.
“The east wing is our guest quarters. I’ll escort you there first, and then you have a session with the king and dinner afterward.”
General Balor’s orders grate along my skin.
No one tells me what to do.
Second tilts his chin to look over at me as his hand skirts to his hilt. He knows that, too. But we’re guests here, and I plan to play nice until I can’t.
“That sounds just fine,” I say, agreeing with the agenda.
General Balor glances back at me, eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t a suggestion,” he informs sternly.
Well, I’ll play nice with boundaries.
I smile pleasantly at the male. “General Balor, everything out of your mouth is a suggestion when you address a queen.”
His lips part, and he jerks his chin forward, lifting it higher than it was five seconds ago.
Balor has something to prove, and I’m looking forward to putting him in his place during my visit.
We trail Goreon guards to the east wing, my heart stuttering all over the fucking place as my eyes leap to every corner and open doorway for threats, for horrors known to exist here. But there are no drained bodies or snarling, feral vampires, just a very long walk amongst lavish wealth.
Finally, we’re ushered into a series of royal rooms with a central parlor.
“We’ll be back to collect you in an hour,” Balor states and doesn’t wait for a response before snapping his way down the unending hallway.
It’s an affront to my station, a clear one. This invitation has nothing to do with respect or a desire to see me as their queen, exactly as I expected.
He’ll learn to watch his mouth before this is all over.
Emmanuel lets out a sigh like he flew over an entire kingdom and collapses on the sofa. “That was stressful, and we just got here.”
Charlotte sheds her coat and tosses herself next to him, and he loops an arm around her shoulders, hand squeezing her bare arm.
“You need a bath,” she says, wrinkling her nose.
Emmanuel sniffs himself. “Told you I was stressed out.”
“You’re an assassin. How do you get stressed out?” she laughs.
