“Your words, yes. You cannot lie, so every spoken sentence means a great deal in this court,” he said, nodding toward the crowd of low fae watching them through the gated castle entrance. “But you can think whatever you damn well please, just so long as you consider your words when sharing them. Now, princesses, I must beg your leave.”
Lorcan nodded once more, and then took off across the courtyard after Thane.
Reyna and Eislyn exchanged a weighted glance. Wingallock let out a curious hoot.
A smiling female suddenly appeared before them, distracting the sisters from Thane’s sudden disappearance. Short and slender, the fae wore servant’s attire: a long linen skirt the color of mud, a pearl-white tunic, and a thin leather belt. She wore her curly hair loose around her shoulders and regarded them both with sharp amber eyes.
“Good evening, your highnesses. My name is Diccea, and I serve Prince Thane. Please come with me. I will show you to your chambers.” The fae did not wait for their response. She scurried away, leading them toward another pair of gates set into the polished white stone walls.
Guards trailed behind them as they moved along, both those that Reyna had brought from the Ice Court and several more of the Air Court’s own. It was quite the entourage.
Diccea opened the gate and motioned them inside. There, they found another courtyard, empty and silent. The castle gardens stretched out all around them, full of lush green shrubs and delicate winter flowers. An ancient square tower rose up before them, the tallest of the castle’s many. By itself, it was almost as large as the entirety of Starford Castle.
“Is that where we will be living?” Eislyn asked with a gasp.
“No, your highnesses,” Diccea said with a smirk. “That is Mistral Tower, home to the chambers of the High King and Queen. We have prepared chambers for you in White Stone Tower on the northern side of the castle, overlooking the Bay of Wind.”
She resumed her journey across the courtyard. Reyna and Eislyn had no choice but to follow closely behind, Wingallock still clinging tight to Reyna’s shoulder with his talons. They passed beneath the shadows of the looming towers, a biting wind whipping through their hair. Eislyn’s silver strands had sprung free of her braid, and they curled around her flushed cheeks. Reyna could not help but wonder if her dear sister was regretting her decision now that she had firmly stepped foot inside the viper nest.
When they finally reached the northern walls, Diccea led the sisters into a small tower that seemed dwarfed in comparison to Mistral Tower. She led them up a small circular staircase and into a corridor lined with flickering torches. They used fire here, Reyna noted.
They came to a stop outside two doors that were set into the stone walls across from each other. Another servant stood waiting, her garb a replica of Diccea’s. She stared at Wingallock with dull grey eyes that matched her fraying hair. Her round cheeks were devoid of any color, and her pouting lips were cracked. She shuffled on her feet, clearly unnerved by Reyna’s familiar.
“Princess Reyna, this is Ula, your lady’s maid.” Diccea motioned at the servant who waited by the door. “Princess Eislyn, I will serve as yours. Please follow me.”
With that, Diccea and Eislyn disappeared through one of the doors, leaving Reyna and Wingallock alone with the strange, haunting lady’s maid.
“Your highness.” The lady’s maid gave a slight bow and then led Reyna into her chambers.
The rooms inside were far more expansive than Reyna was accustomed to. There were three of them in total. A small boudoir for bathing and dressing, a bedchamber that held a four-poster bed that could have swallowed her own bed whole. The gleaming golden sheets sparkled even in the dim lighting, and the pillows were plump and large.
The third room would serve as her private drawing room. It held several sofas, along with an elaborately-carved bookshelf, though no books sat there waiting to be read. Several plush pillows were dotted around the room, some large enough to be used as a footstool. Each had been embroidered with golden thread, forming the crown sigil of the Air Court. A lush circular carpet spread across the center of the timber floor beneath a small wooden table that held a multitude of candles. The scent of rowan blossoms filled the air.
Unlike her castle back home, these chambers held several arched windows with chevon carvings detailed around the edges. Each had a stone seat, complete with more plush pillows. A set of embroidery needles sat in one.
“These are your chambers,” Ula said stiffly before shooting another nervous glance at the owl. “What else can I assist you with, milady?”
“At some point, I would like to visit the market. Where can I find that?” Reyna asked. “At the Ice Court, we have one daily in our courtyard.”
Ula gave her a hard look. “We may have made an alliance with your kind, but we are not the same. There is no market inside the castle gates. That would not be at all safe for the nobility.”
Reyna frowned and absently ran her fingers along Wingallock’s feathers, where he still perched patiently on her shoulder. “Very well. I can visit the market in the city.”
“I am afraid Prince Thane will not allow that.”
“What ever do you mean? Why would he not allow it?”
“It is not safe for you to wander the city streets,” Ula replied, her face impassive, those strange grey eyes hollow and glazed.
“I don’t understand.” Reyna waved at her beautiful chambers. “Surely I am not to stay inside these castle walls perpetually.”
“You have no need to leave. Everything you could possibly require can be found here where it is safe.” Ula moved toward the door. “If you have concerns, you ought to speak with your betrothed.”
As the servant slipped out the door, Reyna spotted the armored arm of a warrior standing guard outside her quarters. Reyna’s frowned deepened. The Air Court would claim he was there for her protection, no doubt. But Reyna had not been born yesterday. The guard was there to keep her inside these rooms, just as surely as he was there to keep an enemy out.
With a heavy sigh, she crossed the smooth timber floor and stared out the window. Wind battered against the tower, causing the glass to quake. Down below, she knew the teeming city stretched far. But she could not see it. Her window faced north, overlooking a steep cliff that plunged to the Bay of Wind. There was nothing but inky darkness for her to see.
“What have we gotten ourselves into, Wingallock?” Her owl, for once, stayed silent.
