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“Oh, I’m from Providence. Ever been there?”
“Not at all, no. Myself, I was born here but left when I was a bit older.” He took my arm once more and led me down the torch-lit hall.
“And where did you live then?” I asked, feeling like myself for the first time in weeks now that the awkwardness in the parlor was over. I could do this. I liked Ander. His presence was soothing. He reminded me a little of Jon, actually. Which made me wonder, where was Jon?
“Ah. I lived somewhere very far south,” he answered. “But I will have to tell you some other time.” We came to a door, and he opened it. “There’s a very formidable man in white robes who gave me a death glare when he’d mentioned you needed to eat.”
I laughed and walked inside. The laughter died when I saw the room.
“This is for me?” I asked, taking in its opulence.
Lysander walked ahead of me, looked around the large room, his hands behind him. “Would you like a different room? I can—”
“Oh, no. No, this is… this is just a lot.” The room was something out of a storybook, a room for a queen, not a Constant’s daughter. But then again, I was technically a princess now.
“Ah,” he said. “Well, if you find you don’t like it, another you shall have.” He came to stand at my side as we both looked around. Then he said, “I look forward to getting to know you, Sierra. And again, my deepest apologies. I feel like a lout, and I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m sure you were expecting something—”
I touched his arm again. “Please. All I ask is honesty from you and for you to be yourself. I will promise to give you the same.”
He searched my eyes, looking for truth. His expression relaxed and he let out a breath. “All right. Well, I know how tired you must be. Goodnight, my lady.” He took my hand and kissed it before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
I let out a tense breath. It had been a long day and there was so much to take in. Like the room. It was the size of my father’s library, consisting of three separate areas. The bed was at one end, on a raised platform of thick gold carpet. The middle of the room was a sitting area, where several sofas, a desk and chair sat angled toward a fire in the hearth. The last area was also raised. A lovely vanity and a few wardrobes designated the space as a dressing area. On the opposite wall were tall windows and a glass door that led out onto a balcony.
Someone knocked at the door, and when I answered it, I saw it was Lysander again.
“Yes, my lord?”
“We’re to be married, Sierra. You can just call me by my name.” He smiled and rubbed the back of his nape, seeming quite unsettled.
Smiling, I opened the door wider. “All right. Was there something you wanted to ask me, Lysander?”
“Do you like to ride?”
“Very much. It’s one thing I’ll miss most from home.”
His face relaxed. He opened his mouth to speak but turned when he saw something behind him. “Ah, your guards have arrived.”
I took a peek behind his shoulder and could make out two brawny men passing by my doorway.
“Your maid should be coming soon with some food, too,” he said, turning back to me. “Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Lysander.” Amused, I shut the door and leaned my back against it, dropping my shoulders as a wave of exhaustion hit me.
The man was nothing like I’d thought. I was glad he was in his prime, handsome, polite. More than anything I hoped I’d come to love him, and I hoped he would find in me a good wife.
A different knock this time at the door, lighter. It was the maid. Young and sweet, she introduced herself as Tilly. At the snap of her fingers, several servants came in, carrying water and linens. Before I knew it, the whole room was filled with activity. A table was set up, cutlery laid, covered dishes placed in waiting. Then, in the blink of an eye, everyone left the room, Tilly staying to help me wash.
The next hour had me content and cozy as a well-fed cat in front of a fire. My hair was clean, dried, brushed. My skin scrubbed and silky. My stomach full.
As Tilly readied me for bed and showed me where all my things were—I had been overjoyed yet saddened when I spied my clothes and such from home—I thought to myself that things weren’t nearly as bad here as I feared. Yes, I had faced so much over the past few weeks—enough for a lifetime—but things would surely improve from here on out.
I said a quick prayer to the gods to will it so.
Chapter 30
Fadon
Fadon’s thoughts were on the west wing, where Sierra and Lysander were, doing Ongar knew what. He had never been envious of his brother, ever. But that was exactly what this was, though—envy. Lysander taking her, claiming her.
