Reagan, who apparently already knew the way to the rooms we would be staying in, led us up a marble staircase. We were on the second floor of the castle’s wing, the hallway windows offering an angled view of a distant city.
“Alameda told me something interesting,” I said as we headed towards the rooms. “She said mage lands are usually commanded by two rulers, not one.”
I glanced in his direction just in time to see his eyebrows rise, the only sign of surprise. “Did she? I wonder why she would tell you about this.”
“I asked if they were married, and she mentioned the convention. So, is there a Lady of Mountheim I haven’t met? And by this point, I hope there isn’t. It would be very awkward to be living in her home.”
One side of his lips curled, yet his gaze remained fixed ahead. “No, there isn’t a Lady of Mountheim. Your manners are safe.”
We reached a cross passage where multiple corridors intersected. There were more staircases leading to higher floors, and on the top level, a glass arched dome reflected a few shy sunbeams.
“Can I ask why?” I said, wondering if I was being intrusive, but not letting it stop me. “Wouldn’t it be better to share the burden? Or has no one ever met your high standards?”
“Some have, but I guess you can tell how those worked out,” he said humorously.
I wondered why. There were aspects of him that could be considered appealing. If only he could master the art of being pleasant. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps he simply expected his partner to bend to his will and handled it like a brute.
I hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose your customs can be just as complicated as finding a spouse in the human lands. It seems to be a universal struggle.”
I kept my steps swift and sure as Reagan peered at me over his shoulder. “Was it a struggle for you?” he asked with casual interest. “Was this something you were hoping to find in your human town?”
“Gods, no,” I laughed through my nose. “I mean, I didn’t have a significant other, nor was I looking for one in Ehrfurt. But I enjoyed spending time with some men, you know, for the company.” I shrugged, glancing at him and arching my brows, but Reagan gave no indication that he caught my meaning. “To enjoy ourselves and things like that...You know what I mean.”
A beat later, a slow grin curved across his lips. “Do tell. I’m curious to hear what you think I know.”
My face heated at the teasing hunger in his voice. Icy realisation reminded me who I was talking to. Suddenly, I didn’t know why I had flaunted enjoying the company of other men.
He chuckled, amused, his hand rising to scratch his chin. “Jane Darling, what a minx you must be,” he jested.
Regret burnt through me as I chewed on the insides of my cheeks.
As we stopped at a room’s door, Reagan steered the conversation back to himself.
“The past few years haven’t been easy for Mountheim. Finding its lady hasn’t exactly been a priority, especially since I have a capable staff to help run the estate.” His expression remained neutral, his mouth parting as if he wanted to continue but hesitated. “It’s not something I’ve allowed myself to pursue.”
A subtle tightness crept into my chest at his answer. It was as if his whole life was about Mountheim. I debated asking for his reasons, but decided to leave it at that for now.
I gestured to the white door beside us. “Am I staying here?”
Reagan nodded as he pushed the door open. “You should rest while you can. We leave in an hour to visit the city with the Barrows. Dinner tonight will likely give us a chance to discuss the deals.”
His tone was brisk, but his eyes lingered for just a moment too long before he stepped aside. I gave a curt nod as I stepped into the room, letting my gaze sweep over it.
Beige walls were offset by white curtains billowing in a salty breeze. A pale carpet stretched across the floor, leading to a massive bed draped in sand-coloured sheets, piled high with plush pillows. Gold accents adorned the bed frame, the same ones on the closet and dresser. In the far corner, a door stood ajar, and I presumed it led to the washroom.
It was brighter and perhaps fancier than the room I’d been given at Mountheim Hall, without the same moodier, cosier side.
“Do you like the room?” Reagan asked.
“It’s nice. Bright,” I said, my eyes darting towards the window.
“I’ll pick you up in one hour,” he said, his tone seemingly colder, though I might have imagined it.
“But of course, my lord,” I said with exaggerated reverence.
That earned me a wry smile. “That sounds unusually obedient coming from you.”
I gripped the wooden door. “Yes, well, I work for you now. I’m just a servant.”
