He stands, offering me another tilt of his head before returning to his throne with a deep sigh.
“My wife is right,” he says gruffly. “I apologize, Your Highness. We are, of course, happy to see you are unharmed. We are also undoubtedly glad to hear it is not you behind the witches’ resurgence. But it seems we have a long road ahead of us,” he says, exhaustion now weighing down every word. “I know time is of the essence, but I’d like to meet with my family before we speak further. Shall we reconvene in the morning and discuss how to defeat the usurpers?”
I swallow hard at the dismissal. I’m eager to get back, to see how Cally’s doing, to finally get some kind of direction, some answer on how the hell we’re going to move forward and defeat Marik.
Barrett comes forward. “I’ll take you to our guest quarters.”
We offer the King and Queen a final, albeit brief, bow before following Barrett from the throne room and onto the landing. The moment we step from the throne room, I feel like my lungs can fully expand.
Barrett is silent as he leads us down three more levels, the light from above fading with every step downward. We reach the third landing down and turn toward another caved hallway.
“There’s a private kitchenette and a private bathroom in the guest suite. You should have no need to leave, unless, of course, you’d like to.” He places his palm on the center of a door at the end of the hallway and mutters something under his breath. “Give it a try. The spell should recognize both of your magic now.”
I place my hand on the mahogany door, feeling a click as I do. Asmo does the same, the door clicking back to locked. I turn to Barrett. “I’m sorry. I think there’s some confusion. Asmo and I need separate rooms.”
Barrett blinks. “Oh. Sorry, I?—”
Asmo cuts him off with a charming smile. “No need. One room is great.”
Barrett’s eyebrows draw together. “Okay, well just let me know if something changes,” he says awkwardly before opening the door.
As I pass Asmo, I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. I swear I hear him chuckle as I enter the guest suite.
The walls are crafted of rough, uneven stone the color of sand, as if the room was carved directly into a mountain. In the corner, a basin of water is cut into the stone floor, steam rising from the clear water. There’s a small kitchenette and a private bathroom on the other side of the suite, and an oversized bed draped in white linens is centered on the back wall.
Asmo excuses himself and makes his way to the private bathroom.
“You did great back there. My father…” Barrett rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the right words. “He’s great, but he’s very protective. The last few months have been tough on us.”
I guess I was naïve to expect King Torben to welcome me without question. “Thank you for convincing him to see us.”
“You’re the High Queen,” he says, like my throne wasn’t just stolen from me. Like my title has any meaning right now. “When August came to us and told us the truth, I believed him. I tried to tell my father that there was no way you would allow the witches to roam free, not after what happened that night. But my father…Well,” he says with a grimace, “He didn’t get the chance to know you before the wedding. He didn’t believe August.”
“But he saw me fighting Cora. He was there. He knows what Marik did,” I protest.
Barrett sighs. “You have to understand. It’s been a month of silence. And with reports of you on the throne…We just assumed you were in on it now. When August came, I was so ashamed.”
I give him a sad smile. “It’s okay, Barrett. Thank you for vouching for me. I would be skeptical if I were your father,” I say truthfully.
He smiles, but it falls quickly. “How long are you staying?”
“Just for the night,” Asmo says, sauntering back to us. “We’ll leave after we speak with your father tomorrow.”
Barrett gives us a curt nod. “There’s a lot to discuss, but I’m confident they’ll help. I’ll send someone to wake you early, if that’s okay.”
I nod in approval. “I don’t sleep much these days anyways,” I admit.
His answering smile is sad and full of pity. I hate it.
“See you in the morning, Mae,” he says, then gives Asmo a curt nod. “Asmo.”
Asmo returns it. Cordial, professional. At least he’s not slinging insults or pet names like he tends to do with Koa and August. Barrett closes the door softly behind him, leaving Asmo and me alone for the first time in months.
The last time we were truly alone, with no one in the room next door or down the hall…Well, the last time was when I was telling him I was marrying his brother. The silence between us feels stifling and suffocating, yet charged with something that feels almost tangible. Something that I want to grab and cling to.
There are a million things to say. To ask.
Did you want one room because you can’t stand to be apart from me, like I can’t stand to be apart from you?
