“Váless.”
The word was in no language she had ever heard of. She watched in awe as the dresses and jewels rose off the bed, seemingly of their own volition, and flew into trunks, neatly folding themselves in.
Elizabeth gave a sharp intake of breath.Magic.
“Lós.”
The trunks slammed shut.
He snapped his fingers and murmured another word she didn’t catch. The trunks gently rose in the air. Her eyes widened.
She swallowed, hoping none of the servants would run into her and the levitating trunks.
“Shall we?” Caspian gestured for her to lead the way once more.
She led them out of the manor, haste nipping at her heels, and by some stroke of luck, they didn’t run into anyone.
Standing on the carriage step, Caspian offered her his hand. His hand felt warm and sure in hers, making it easy to follow his lead and climb into the carriage. She sat primly with her hands folded in her lap, and Caspian muttered that he would sit at the front to give her some privacy.
Elizabeth allowed herself one last look at the home she had grown up in, and paused, inhaling the soft smell of honeysuckle and lavender that she would always associate with home. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she turned her gaze away from Ashcroft Manor and towards the road, feeling both giddy and nervous at the prospect of leaving.
After they passed through the outskirts of Briarton, she was surprised to see them heading north, towards the forests and mountains of Arboras. Mountains loomed in the distance, and a dense forest lay ahead, marking the border to the northern kingdom. Mists wove through the trees, making them look both foreboding and ethereal.
She had never left Rhodea before and found herself taking a deep breath when they crossed into the border of the forest. The world grew dark in the shade of the trees, as if everything on this side of the border was blanketed in shadow.
They continued down the forest road for a time, and she was surprised to find that the air smelled different here, sharper, like a crisp summer morning, but in a way that stung her nostrils with the smell of mulch and pine.
When they got out of the carriage, she was taken aback; the ground was wet everywhere she stepped. Her slippers squelched in the grass and mud, quickly becoming ruined. She would have to wear boots outside from now on.
When they paused at a roadside inn to relieve themselves and stretch their limbs, she retrieved a book from one of her trunks and spent most of the trip with her nose buried in its pages.
The forest road seemed endless. They travelled up hills and mountains, their path lined with evergreen trees that all looked identical. One could easily get lost here, but Asmodeus seemed sure of their path through the woods.
After a few days, she began to miss the sun like a physical ache in her chest. She hadn’t realized how much of it she was used to seeing every day.
It took them nearly a week of travel, their progress slowed by the steep mountain terrain and the fact that they were in no hurry anymore and she usually accepted the option to spend the night in an inn to sleep in a proper bed.
Finally, they arrived at an intricately wrought iron gate. Caspian was at the front of the carriage, so there was no one to look to to reassure herself that she wasn’t heading into grave danger. The gate creaked as it opened and her heart flew into her throat.
Behind the gate stood a dark castle at the end of a long drive. The castle had many tall towers and turrets, and ivy crept along the walls, making it look half consumed by the forest around it.
The castle was enormous—the demon was far better off than she had anticipated.
Their carriage rolled to a stop, and Caspian opened her door and held out his hand. She accepted it and stepped onto the cobblestone drive, her feet nearly disappearing under the mists that snaked along the ground.
Beside her, Caspian said, “Welcome to my home.”
She gave what she hoped was a friendly smile.
Caspian grasped a heavy iron knocker and rapped loudly, the sound booming.
The door opened to reveal a creature with large black eyes, tiny horns, and small black wings. It was hardly taller than her knee, wearing pants and a vest similar to a butler’s uniform, stretching taut across its round little belly.
“Master Caspian, welcome back.” Its black eyes crinkled with a smile. The creature turned to her and said, “Lady Elizabeth, welcome.” It held out a small paw as one would a hand.
“Hello … Er, nice to meet you,” she said, trying to be polite.
“I am the butler, Iago.” As the small creature shook her hand, she felt claws brush against her fingers and suppressed a cringe.
