“Captain Kinnivar,” I say softly, feeling a sliver of unease. I don’t really know why. Shouldn’t he be out fighting monsters with the rest of them?
“Lady Solisar.” Kinnivar executes a slight bow. “His Highness has asked that I escort you to your quarters. For your own safety, we’ve been assigned to protect you until the disturbance has been dealt with.”
We? I look around. Three more soldiers appear behind him, making a total of four.
Stern-faced, intimidating men, the lot of them. They’re all physically powerful; walking lightly on their feet and carrying big swords.
“Is this really necessary?” I ask. “I don’t recall being surrounded by guards in the first instance.”
“Well, you were with His Highness most of the time, so a guard wasn’t really necessary.” Kinnivar is cool and composed. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. I can’t even begin to try and guess what he’s thinking. “And there’s the small matter of the castle being surrounded by an undead horde. Once they’re subdued, things will go back to normal.”
Normal? Nothing here is normal. What choice do I have but to go along with it?
“And how long do you think that will take?”
“Hard to say,” Kinnivar shrugs. “But now that His Highness’s become involved, it shouldn’t take all that long. You’ve had quite the ordeal. Allow us to take you to the dinner hall, where a meal will be served. Then you should take your rest, my lady.
I stare back at the captain; at his pale features and dark, impenetrable gaze. He might be human, but he appears more stiff and statue-like than my sweet, inhuman husband-to-be.
I don’t like being ordered to rest, I want to tell him, but now isn’t the time to make a scene. Corvan’s out there fighting monsters, and I can do nothing but wait.
“What about my brothers? Surely they should join me for dinner.”
“The situation’s still a bit too volatile for them to be traipsing around the castle just yet. They’ll be served dinner in their rooms. It’s just easier that way. Emotions are high, and I don’t want to have to forcibly restrain them over some juvenile misunderstanding.”
At the mention of dinner, my stomach rumbles. “Fine,” I sigh. “Lead the way, gentlemen.”
I glance out the window. The sky is darkening now, turning from deep red to inky violet. The winter chill seeps through the walls and penetrates my clothing.
I rub my hands together in an attempt to feel warmer.
Actually, it would be good to be in my chambers again, enjoying the warmth of the hearth. But I can’t help but feel guilty that Corvan’s out there in the cold and the deepening darkness.
Fighting an eldritch horror I can’t even imagine.
A terrible thought occurs to me.
What if some of the undead are the soldiers that served under him… the ones that died in the war?
How mentally strong must one be to deal with that?
If only I could help him in some way. I might not be physically strong or able to control my dormant magical powers right now, but I do possess something that can soothe him.
When he returns, I’ll freely offer him my blood. I’m no longer scared that he’ll forcibly drain me or hurt me.
He wouldn’t lose control like that.
Not Corvan.
I follow Kinnivar and his guards, who surround me like a phalanx, making me feel more like a prisoner than one being guarded.
“Did Corvan order this?” I ask quietly.
Kinnivar glances over his shoulder, but he doesn’t directly meet my gaze. “Yes. His Highness is rather indisposed right now, and the situation outside is still volatile. He wants us to keep a close eye on you until the threat’s been completely eliminated. With these sorts of things, you never really know what might happen.”
I don’t like Kinnivar’s tone; he’s brusque and arrogant, as if I’m more of an inconvenience than anything else.
I’m going to have to speak to Corvan about this. These soldiers are being heavy-handed. I don’t like being treated like a prisoner in the place that’s supposed to be my home.
It’s so different to how Corvan is when he’s with me.
The guards set a brisk pace as we walk down empty stone corridors, passing tall arched windows that reveal the night sky. The sun has completely disappeared now, and the sky is an inky shade of blue, illuminated by the cold full moon. I catch glimpses of the internal courtyard. There’s a stillness about the place that sets me on edge.
Where are the men?
Where’s Corvan?
An occasional scream splits the air. In the distance, I hear faint, chilling howl.
Is that a lycan?
If lycan are roaming the forest, even Corvan might face a challenge.
The memory of my close encounter with those terrifying beasts turns me cold. I can’t forget their awful snarls; their sickeningly strong stench, the way their claws shattered the sturdy wooden door of my carriage as if it were made of glass.
We go down a curving flight of stairs. The gas lamps flicker in their wall sconces as the winter wind swirls outside, howling faintly.
I don’t remember this part of the castle.
“Is this a different way?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow as it echoes off the stone walls.”
“Tyron Castle is vast. There are many ways to reach a destination.” Kinnivar’s tone is clipped. “Let’s go, Lady Solisar.”
I look up at the guards. They’re wearing plain black leather armor without any insignia. Each of them is massive—at least a head taller and twice as wide as me.
They don’t even spare me a glance as we enter a windowless part of the castle, lined with plain-looking wooden doors. The ceiling drops. The air is stuffy in here. We descend another flight of stairs, and all of a sudden we’re in a basement corridor of some sort.
Kinnivar takes a gas lantern from a hook ok the wall and lights it with a match. Golden light flares, casting shadows against the walls.
This doesn’t feel right.
“Captain Kinnivar,” I say sternly. “I think I’d rather return to the guest quarters. I’ll take my dinner in the rooms with the boys.”
The guards tense. Kinnivar turns and holds up a hand.
We stop.
It’s rather dark in here. There’s only his lamp, and the corridor has become low and narrow. There are no doors; no windows. There’s only me and these four big, armed men.
Something definitely isn’t right. Corvan would never have approved of this.
I berate myself for being so trusting. In the heat of the moment, with danger swirling outside and Kinnivar being a familiar face—one that I thought was loyal to Corvan—I dropped my guard.
I shouldn’t have gone with them so easily.
“Take me back at once,” I snap. “This is highly inappropriate.”
The guards are as still as statues. Kinnivar looms over me, suddenly menacing. Since when did his eyes look so flat and cold?
Like he’s dead inside.
“We stop here,” he says stiffly. “And things will go easier for you if don’t fight it.”
“Fight it? What are you—”