Page 71 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Darius’s hand on my back falls away, and he extends his elbow. “Shall we?”

My gaze bounces from his arm to Rian’s dark eyes. Only, the prince isn’t looking at me.

Rian stares after his friend, his jaw rigid.

I slip my hand through Darius’s arm, and we follow the sailors.

I don’t know what I expected of the mysterious land where humans and Fae allegedly coexist in peace.

Perhaps a village tucked away in the wilderness like Verdanthia.

Or a small group of individuals who travel for a living, never staying in one place for fear of being discovered by their enemies.

I suppose I’ll find out soon.

At the end of the dock, we reach a paved walkway that leads to the lone entrance, embedded in the wall surrounding the mysterious town beyond.

Sailors and fishermen move freely through the opening. Two armed men stand at their posts. Each one stiffens when they notice the Fae, but a single word from one of our escorts has them stepping aside.

We’re allowed through, but the men’s glares cling to us until the road bends and we disappear from view.

I don’t make it two steps onto the new road before I stop short. Still clutching Darius’s arm, I pull him to a halt beside me.

“Elara?” He glances at the people who part to move around us, curiosity flickering in their gazes.

Unlike the armed men, there’s no hatred in their expressions.

“What’s wrong?” Darius asks.

Nothing is wrong.

Far from it.

White stone archways line the broad street, spaced with deliberate precision. Above us, crowds move along elevated walkways, rooftop to rooftop, forming a second level of activity overhead. Dark metal railings trace the paths, wrought into gilded filigree that catches the light.

At street level, the same metal twists into elegant sconces affixed to gleaming facades. Sunlight strikes the stone and glass, forcing me to shield my eyes as it scatters in brilliant flashes.

I thought Port City was stunning.

But this…

This is something else entirely.

Beautiful. Impossibly so.

There isn’t a single smear of grime or dirt in sight. It’s as though the city itself refuses imperfection.

“Elara?” Darius taps the hand that rests on his elbow. “Are you all right?”

Farther down the street, the others have stopped and are looking at us expectantly. I avoid their questioning stares and swallow down my awe.

“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

We catch up with the rest of our group. I don’t stop to admire my surroundings again, though Gods know I want to.

We pass brilliant mosaics on walls, fragrant gardens with carved marble statues, a bubbling fountain with large green lily pads floating over the water. The beauty never ceases, and it’s not limited to the scenery.

The people in the crowd are all lean and healthy. I spot a few elders and children. Everyone else appears close to my age. Their youthful faces are vibrant in the sunshine.