Page 17 of A Legacy of the Light

I feel the truth of his words down to my bones. Aside from his beauty, which seems unnatural, I haven’t met anyone like him before. There’s an air to him that speaks to the deepest parts of my mind. Parts that long for a life more than what I’ve lived, parts that tell me I haven’t always fitted in.

I recognize I could be projecting my want of a grand adventure, like in the books I love so much, onto him and the situation I’ve found myself in. Logic would argue that it’s more likely I’ve been kidnapped and drugged than that this guy is trying to convince me he’s a mythical being.

“Show me,” is all I can say back to him.

He reaches out to stroke a finger down my cheek. Only his hand stops a few inches from my face, and white mist drifts from the ends of his extended fingers. My eyes widen as the soft mist caresses my cheek, pushing back a strand of hair that has come loose from my braid and tucking it behind my ear.

I tear my gaze away from Tavish’s hand and look back to his eyes. The black outer rim pulses. He recalls the mist to him, leaving a cold, tingling sensation where his magic touched my skin.

“What . . . I . . .” I try to find the words to voice the million thoughts in my mind, but I have nothing. I can only stare.

“Ah, finally. I’ve rendered you speechless.” Tavish drops his hand to his side and I see his fist clench, the teasing tone and glint in his eyes returning.

“Well, finding out there’s an entire race of beings I didn’t know about will do that to a woman.” I intended that to come out with bite, but it comes out breathy, like I just ran up sixteen flights of stairs.

A soft chuckle leaves him and he places a hand on the small of my back, causing a zip of electricity to shoot up my spine.

“Come,” he says, and gestures to the door. “I’ll show you round the palace a little. Then my father has requested to meet you.”

“What? The king? Am I dressed okay for that? I’ve never met a royal before. I don’t know what to do!”

“Don’t call him a fucking creep and you should be alright,” Tavish chuckles at me again.

My cheeks heat, realizing I called a prince a fucking creep.

“Well, in my defense, you were being a fucking creep.”

I move toward the door as another soft laugh follows me. He seems to do that a lot. I wonder what his full laugh sounds like.

Shaking that thought from my mind, I reach for the handle of the door and pull it open. I’m greeted by a much larger, brighter hallway. Windows along its right side cast the mid-morning sun across the deep-red carpeted floor. The space is much more welcoming than the bare halls we have just left.

Tavish follows me through and his attention turns to the guards stood either side.

“This is Elsie. She is my guest and has my permission to access the entire royal quarters. Make this known on shift change,” he announces. His tone is curt; a command given from someone very used to giving orders.

I smile politely at the guards as they nod in affirmation.

Opposite the huge windows, the walls are lined with stunning paintings in heavy gold frames. A beautiful city in different seasons, landscapes of mountains and forests, portraits of kings and queens, and battles with creatures and men. I try to take them in as Tavish strides down the hall.

“You’ll have time to gawk at the boring stuff later. There’s one thing I want to show you first.” He takes my hand and pulls me faster. I don’t know why he thinks such art is boring, but I guess this isn’t new to him.

Before I start to protest, he takes a left, stopping at a set of double doors. They stand at least twenty feet tall and are so delicately carved that I could spend days tracing the pattern with my fingers and they itch to reach out.

“Why were the hallways before so bare? I’d expect the parts where the royal family to reside to be just as fancy, if not fancier, than the rest of the place.”

“My family and I aren’t ones for fuss. Give us a bed, a place to eat, a place to piss, and we’re happy.”

A laugh bubbles out of me at that.

“You look different when you’re not scowling,” Tavish comments.

I shrug, and the smile quickly falls from my face. I don’t laugh much these days, but I’m not going to share that with him. Tavish doesn’t need to know what plagues me.

“What’s behind these doors?” I ask, moving away from that topic of conversation.

Tavish grabs both of the massive wrought-iron handles and pulls on the them, the hinges creaking as the wood scrapes along the stone floor. He opens them enough that we can fit through, and holds his arm out for me to go first.

“This is the best view of the city. I wanted you to see this before anything else.”