The door parts open a few inches as I grab the edge of the duvet spilling off from the bed, pulling it up to shield my naked, pale body.
The man dips his head, eyes to the floor. “I’ve brought lady’s maids to assist you, if that’s alright? You were the last to wake and have a bit less time than the rest. Dinner starts in thirty minutes, so we need to be quick.”
Last to wake? Dinner?I flick my gaze between the three women behind him, all waiting for my approval. “Where am I?”
“You’ll find out in about…twenty-nine minutes,” he answers, then opens the door wider. “Please. They’re quick and thorough.”
I nod, finding no other way, and the women sweep in. The man closes the door once they’ve entered. The eldest woman points to another and motions toward the puddle of blood on the floor. Then two of the women are quietly ushering me out from the duvet. Allowing me to brace my weight on their forearms, they lead me into a bathroom. They draw me a bath and bathe me. Scrubbing at me with brushes and soap, combing my thin black hair free of tangles until the water is murky red. After they’ve drained it and rinsed me, they help me out of the bath and dry me off before three mirrors.
Water slips down my petite frame, and one woman pulls my long black hair off my breasts to my back. I can’t help but wrap my arms back over my chest, squeezing my thighs together like it may afford me some sort of privacy.
The women show me various dresses to choose from, and I gravitate toward the exquisite cerulean one. It’s sleeved and rippling in a sheen of subtle layers. They pin my dark hair up in pearls and slip on matching earrings that tease my collarbones as they hang.
“Four minutes,” the eldest woman hisses.
They give me a once-over, perfecting any last details before leading meout of the bathroom to the double doors. When they open it, the gold-clad soldier stands on the other side.
His eyes light up as he beholds me, a soft grin lifting his lips. “Enchanting. He’s going to love you.”
I can’t be flattered, because I’m stuck on one word. “He?” I breathe, watching as the lady’s maids slip back into my room. One of the maids instructed to clean my blood off the floor is on her hands and knees scrubbing the red off the white tile before the door closes.
The soldier nods, motioning me down a long hall ending in a set of colorful cathedral windows. He falls into step with me, his boots and my heels clicking against the marble.
His chin is lifted, eyes set on the path ahead. “King Cyrus. Do you not remember?”
I shake my head, my earrings swinging at the motion. “No? Should I?”
“Interesting…Give the wine some time to settle, and you will. Is your pain gone?”
Blinking, I look away from the side of his face down to my wrists to consider. When I flip my hand up to expose the skin, I’m perplexed to see that all that remains is a faint line. Hardly visible by a quick glance. “Yes, it’s gone.”
But what in the realms could heal such a deadly wound?
“Good. That’s the first step.” He stops at an archway that leads down another hall. “The other women are in the room down on the left. Join them and take it slow. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself. You’ll get your memories back gradually, so just let them come on their own accord.”
A soft chorus of chatter rolls down from the hallway, followed by a collection of giggles. I turn my attention back to him, meeting his brown gaze. Awkwardly, I extend a hand to him. Unsure of how to express my gratitude in this situation, and needing to be polite all the same. My instincts tell me that a soldier garbed in gold can only mean one thing—high ranking. “Thank you…”
He grabs my hand, giving me a firm shake. When he flicks his eyes up to me, he says with a small grin, “Devin.”
I smile, slipping my hand out of his and dipping my head. “Thank you, Devin.”
I walk down the hallway, slipping into the doorway on the left he had noted, and into a room buzzing with conversation. Tables are lined withwomen dressed in luxurious gowns, exchanging conversations and lipstick-lined smiles. I search each face, hoping for someone I recognize. That perhaps someone here might know whoIam. Even when I don’t know myself.
Faces start to turn to me. Snapping one by one, then by twos and threes, until everyone is staring. Silence settles around the room as everyone lies in wait for the woman stuck at the top of the stairs.
Gods above, Lyra, move!
I gather my skirts in my hands, seeing no other way but down. Unlocking my legs, I force myself forward. Step by step, I make my way down the wide staircase.
Three
- CYRUS -
I don’t drink. Alcohol has never been able to dull my senses. The taste never seems to please me, either. I find it quite pointless to pour myself even a drop.
But this night is different.
I’m four knuckles deep into the strongest whiskey we have in the study. Leaning back into my tufted armchair, I stare out past my boots perched on the matching ottoman, out toward the delicately curved sets of windows looking out at the Serahaven mountains. Despite the warming weather and gardens exploding in colorful blossoms, snow still dusts the jagged peaks beyond the castle’s reach. Which means when the snowmelt comes in the summer, it’ll increase the waterfalls framing the mountain range around us and raise the lake at the base. I’ll have to have my soldiers work now to build up barriers to protect the castle grounds.
