Calpurnia began to wash my hair. God, did that feel good. Why does it never feel that good when I do it myself? I supposed the same could be said for many things. I listened to the bubbles pop and logs crackle, and that was when I noticed the black marble fireplace tucked into the corner. It seemed there was a fireplace in every room of the castle.
I could have soaked in that bath for hours, but Calpurnia hurried me along and wrapped me in a warm burgundy robe. Her laughter, like a cascade of tiny bells, flitted ahead of me as she guided me from the sumptuous bath, through another archway, and into a dressing area. She led me to a vast armoire carved from what looked like dark, petrified lava, threaded with molten veins of gold.
With a squeal of pure delight, she yanked open the doors, revealing a closet far too large for the physics of the furniture itself. Hundreds, if not thousands, of garments hung on racks, all in shades of sunset.
“You must wear this one. It is my favorite,” she declared, plucking a dress from the rail. The gown shimmered with countless shades of gold and deep, smoky orange. It had long sleeves and draped off the shoulders like molten magma. Fitted tightly to the knees, it flared out dramatically below, layers of color overlapping to mimic a blazing fire. The fabric was so delicate it felt like captured air, threaded with what had to be spun gold, catching the light with every movement.
It was far fancier than any dress I had ever worn, a garment fit for a queen. I could not say it was entirely my taste, but the gown itself was breathtaking. Already feeling so different from everyone here, I just wanted to fit in.
The size was slightly big and loose in places, and Calpurnia gathered the excess fabric between her fingers. With a subtle flick of
magic, she tailored it to hug my thin, sickly frame in a flattering way, giving the illusion of curves.
She styled my hair smooth and sleek, pinning it to one side so it cascaded over my right shoulder. She finished the look with comfortable black volcanic glass heels, matching earrings, smoky eye makeup, and a soft nude lip.
I stood before the large, gold framed floor mirror and barely recognized myself. I had not been so carefully done up since my wedding. The memory surfaced unbidden, and my chest ached. I missed Jared so much. The longer I stayed in this place, the farther away he seemed.
I rubbed my thumb over the faint indent where my wedding ring once sat, remembering having to remove it before surgery. I felt exposed, stripped of something essential. As I stared at my bare finger, a flicker of sadness crossed my face.
Calpurnia noticed the shift immediately. “Is everything all right, love?” she asked. “If the makeup is too dark, I can fix it.”
“No, it is lovely,” I said softly. “I just miss someone from before.” I lowered my gaze, the weight of it all pressing down on me as I fought back tears.
She looked at me with her kind, sparkling eyes and placed her hand over mine. “The only thing that can travel through the realms is love,” she said gently. “The fact that you carry memories from before is a true gift from the Guardians. It means you truly loved him, and he truly loved you. That is nothing to be sad about.”
I had no idea what she meant, and I was far too emotional to care. All I could think about was his voice, his face, his scent, his touch. I knew her words were meant to comfort me, and I appreciated the kindness behind them, but I could not process
anything beyond the deep, pounding ache in my soul for Jared.
She pulled me into a warm embrace and told me someone would arrive soon to escort me to dinner. I thanked her, and she left the room with a little less bounce in her step.
CHAPTER 7
Titus
DELILAH
Isat on the edge of the bed, hunched over with my arms crossed. Thoughts of Jared weighed heavily on my mind, nearly suffocating me. I drifted through our memories. How we met. Our wedding.
Buying our first house and sleeping on the floor, making love all
night because our furniture would not arrive until the next day.
Why did I feel so far away from him?
If I was truly dead in my realm, I wondered how he was doing. I wished I could just hold him. I would give anything, do anything, to be with him. Then reality set in. My body in my realm was on the brink of death, with no real hope of recovery. It was so unfair. First my fiancé, the man I was madly in love with, was taken from me before we could marry and build a life together. Then, when I finally found the love of my life, I became sick and slowly withered away from him. I had been robbed of so many years of happiness, twice.
A faint knock pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door to find a small, dancing ball of fire floating in midair. My eyes widened, and I blinked a few times to process what I was seeing. I asked the glowing flame if it was there to escort me to dinner. The fiery orb bobbed up and down gently, so I took thatas a yes.
Holding my gown in one hand, I followed it through countless corridors and staircases. The castle was a massive maze. The flame would vanish, only to reappear in another doorway. Chasing it became a small game, a childish one, but it made me smile. For a moment, it distracted me from the ache of missing Jared.
Then it stopped abruptly before two, ceiling-high double doors. “Am I supposed to go in there?” I asked the mysterious floating flame. It bobbed once more, swirled around me and then vanished.
Nervousness settled deep in my chest at the thought of meeting the Lord of Flame. Calpurnia had made it very clear how powerful he was. What if I said something wrong and he incinerated me at the table? Gleeda had felt the need to warn me as well. Do I knock, or do I not knock? I decided knocking was always best.
I raised my trembling fist when a deep, commanding male voice echoed from within.
“Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come in, human?”
