I carry the tray of food as I trail behind Das Celyn. They lead me another floor up the winding staircase. I wince with each step, struggling to keep up.
We trail down a gloomy hallway lined with weird, obscure art. Nonsensical paintings that appear to be dark splatters of color without any rhyme or reason. Oversized windows stained with glass line the hallway—more decoration than actual use.
Flickering sconces cast shadows in every corner of the walk. Everything—the paintings, the runner, the stained glass windows—consist of hues of brown, black, and blood-red.
Das Celyn, having purposefully ignored me for the last few minutes, opens the door to reveal an extravagant room with a four-poster bed, brick fireplace, and beautiful window seat perched beneath a wall of oversized casement windows. It appears perfectly comfortable, but I drag my feet, reluctant to enter.
“Get in here, girl.”
I oblige, exhaustion winning. That bed is much too inviting to ignore, and I have nowhere else to go.
They point to a door beside the fireplace. “Bath and toilet are through there.” They wave a hand toward the opposite wall. “The armoire is fully stocked in a variety of sizes. Enjoy.”
Without another word, they turn and leave. The door slams behind them, and I flinch at the harsh sound slicing through the otherwise quiet room.
Between Fern’s warning and Rainer’s wintry gaze, I’m on high alert.
My stomach growls again. I place the tray of food on a small table in the corner, and continue to stand, afraid sitting will irritate my wounds further.
My chest tightens with the ache of missing Char as I force myself to choke down some food. It all tastes bleak and bitter—like ash on my tongue.
Afterward, I clean up and tuck myself into the grand bed, barely registering the soft sheets. My hand trembles as I cover my mouth, trying to muffle my sobs. Tears pours down my face until my vision goes blurry.
Gods above and below, I miss Char.
seven
Welcome to the Umbra Court
Alessia
Subtle hints of clove and rose linger in the air, blending into a unique, soothing scent, rousing me from my slumber. The bed beneath me is unfamiliar. Too soft. The sheets lining my body are too smooth. The air is perfectly comfortable—no bitter bite of winter nibbling on my flesh.
My head is clear and intense pain no longer wraps around my legs. Only the whisper of a dull ache lingers, a fraction of the agony from before.
“It can’t stay here.”
I recognize Rainer’s voice. It comes from somewhere nearby. I crack open an eye, relieved to see I’m alone. The door is cracked, however, and the voices spill in from the hallway.
“Calling her an ‘it’ doesn’t make her any less of a being. You can’t lie to yourself and say you don’t care.”
“It’s not a lie, Kenisius. I don’t care.”
“Then why did I catch you checking on her just now?” Ken’s voice holds a hint of humor. There’s a scoff, but no response from Rainer. “Exactly.”
I keep my eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness to eavesdrop. I’m vulnerable lying here, and I fight the urge to wrap my arms around my midsection and curl into myself. But I stay stock-still to gather as much information as I can before facing them.
“She could be a spy, sent by the queen,” Rainer says flatly.
“You saw her face. She’s marked. She ran.”
“That’s exactly what the queen would want us to think.”
Ken chuckles. “The human queen knows you wouldn’t take pity. It’d be like sending a lamb to slaughter.”
My muscles tighten. I was under the impression no one ever neared the Gleam, but after Felix’s revelation about guarding the border, it’s clear the two realms have more interaction than I assumed.
“My life is riddled with troubles,” Rainer says.