She fixes me with one look. Taking a calculated slow time to leave before she sweeps off in his direction. A sigh of relief relaxes my shoulders as I place her wine glass on the table.
Briarstone…I’ve heard that name before.
One of scandal and blood. A name that would make children cower below their blankets.
The name made infamous by the Dragon Lands’ most wanted criminal.
Six
- MARCELLA -
“I hope this calling is of utmost importance. Hadn’t even gotten a chance to eat my dinner yet,” I state as I allow my maroon skirts to fall to the marbled floor once I’ve ascended the steps in the dining room.
The gold-armored soldier—Devin, as that Lyra woman had called him—closes the door once we’re in the hallway. He turns to me, his expression serious. “Need I remind you, you’ve agreed to immediately follow all orders given,withoutdefiance, during your stay at the castle?”
I snort. “Remind me? I’m sorry, soldier?—”
“General,” he corrects with a flex in his jaw.
“Right. General.” I wave it off and continue, “I hardly know my own name and cannot seem to remember where I’m from. And now you expect me to blindly follow your orders without a single hesitation?”
He drops his voice into a whisper. “Your aggression with the other women has not gone unnoticed. I and Lady Bethany will not be tolerant of your attitude or your stubbornness. Is that clear?”
The adamant authority in his voice rubs me the wrong way. Piques my instincts to defy him for the sake of it. But being so fresh in this environment and new to the dynamics, I can’t tell if I should be mindful around him or not. I keep my mouth closed and nod. For now.
He motions for me to walk down the hallway. “Now move. I told him to wait until tomorrow. Unfortunately for both of us, he didn’t want to listen to me.”
I take a few steps, then pause. “He…as in…?”
“King Cyrus.” Devin’s hand floats two inches out from my lower back, attempting to guide me forward while not touching me. “Go on, let’s not keep him waiting.”
He leads me down hallways, eventually dropping his hand. The corridors are lit by flickering golden sconces. Each wall is exquisitely painted.Curling floral patterns with majestic dragons peeking out from leaves. Gold-framed mirrors line every wall—in case you forget what you look like after twenty paces.
We eventually stop at a large wooden door with light peeking out from underneath, and Devin motions to it. I lift a hand to knock, and immediately, a deep voice calls from the other side. “Come in, Marcella.”
My heart leaps at the timbre. At the simple mention of my name. I drop my hand to the doorknob and twist it open before slipping inside.
It’s an office. Grand bookshelves teeming with rows of books against one wall, a lush bear rug pinned down by a massive, ornate wooden desk. Behind it are three-story-high windows framing the stunning snow-tipped Serahaven mountains. And opposite from the windows, to my right, is a large hearth roaring quietly with a fire.
Crouching there, back to me and prodding the logs within the flames with a poker, is a man. He turns his head. Eyes gleaming with flame as he peers over his shoulder at me.
“Shut the door,” he says. Calm, yet lethal. A voice that sends a chill trickling down my spine.
Shutting the door should be simple. As someone competing for his hand against twenty-nine other women, I should be jumping for the opportunity to be alone with him. But the thought of cutting myself off from everyone but him is instead unsettling. Yet once those eyes pierce into mine, I find myself more afraid of his wrath than closing a simple door.
So I close it.
He rises off the ground. Just when I think he can’t get any taller, he straightens. My right hand fidgets near my hip, and I clench it to still the nervous shake. We stand across the room from each other, waiting for the other to move in the silence.
Slowly, as if he’s trying not to scare off a fawn, he motions to two tufted armchairs with ottomans. “Would you care to take a seat? Or…you’re more than welcome to stay where you are. If you prefer it.”
I clear my throat, forcing my intimidation back from where he might see it. Dipping my head, I gather my skirts and sweep over to the chair farthest away from him.
He stays at the hearth. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he lifts his chin to regard me. “Do you know why you are here, Marcella?”
I cross my leg over the other and lean back to relax my muscles. “Why you’ve called me to your office? Truthfully? No.”
He nods slowly. “What has Devin said to you?”
