Morgaine laughed, looking at Mike. “I know. That’s why I told you about it. If you’d found out by snooping around, you would definitely go down there, but if I tell you about it and request that you only go down there with me or Mike, or even Arthur, then you can’t get into any trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“The scrolls and parchments we keep are very old. If you handle them the wrong way, you could destroy them.”
“So why is Arthur allowed to take me down there? I thought we didn’t trust him.”
“We don’t. Yet.” She glanced at Mike. “But he’s been handling those scrolls for hundreds of years. He’s had access to them all; we’ve nothing to hide from him in the Scroll Room.”
“When can I see it?”
“Later,” was all she said.
At the very end of the corridor, another grand door greeted us, just like the library door but white.
“Your room,” Morgaine said, letting go of my hand.
“And on the east wing,” Mike said, stopping behind me, “it’s identical. Only difference being there’s no library, so there’s an extra few rooms.”
“Now, normally the rooms on the third floor are for high-ranking officials only, but we’ve been forced to make an exception to that rule.”
“What do you mean?”
“The second room from the stairs there”—she pointed down the hall—“will be Arthur’s.”
Mike’s nostrils flared.
“Why?” I asked, looking away from him. “Is Mike gonna let him be on my Private Council now?”
“No. It was a condition of his helping us that he gets a room in the same wing as you.”
“On the same floor,” Mike added, the flaring nostrils spreading.
Morgaine laughed. “Mike tried giving him a room on the ground floor.”
“It was still in the west wing,” he said.
“Yes,” Morgaine said with mocking sympathy. “But it didn’t quite go to plan, did it, Mikey?”
I laughed in the back of my throat. “Has he arrived yet?”
“No,” Mike and Morgaine said at the same time.
“So, what about the rest of them—the House—where do they all sleep?”
“On the second floor. These windows”—she motioned down the front wall of the manor—“all look in on bedrooms downstairs instead of a corridor. The second-floor corridor runs through the middle of the manor in a straight line from one end to the other.”
“And our rooms are the biggest in the manor,” Mike said.
“Our rooms?”
“Yeah, mine and yours. I have exactly the same room as you, but in the east wing.”
“Why do you get a big room; why not Morgaine or Arthur or someone?”
“These rooms are given to people in the highest command.” He patted my door, standing proudly. “I’m the head of security. I am supreme.”
I smiled at him, seeing more of my ‘best friend’ Mike—the one I grew up with—than I’d seen in ages. I think, in some ways, being so far from home with no one here that I really knew made me feel closer to Mike, like he was a part of my family. A bit like a brother, and not so much like a… well, let’s just say some of the love confusion trickled away with the sense that he was my only family here.
Morgaine reached for the doorknob, and light spilled into the corridor from my room. As my eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar space—darting around to take in only minor details to begin with—I smiled and stepped through.
“Oh. Morg. It’s amazing.”
Light colors cast calm around the L-shaped room, while the four windows facing the south side of the manor showed nothing but a blue sky and endless gardens. To my right was a parlor furnished with pieces of antique furniture that tied in pleasantly with the airy, summery feel in here. My bedposts were white, and it was wide enough to sleep six of me, adorned with enough pillows to stuff a warehouse.
“I’m guessing you’re happy with the color scheme?” Morgaine said.
I nodded. “Mm-hm. It’s perfect.”
“And look at this.” Morgaine walked over to a dresser on my left, hidden by the door. “This was Arietta’s. David thought you might like to have it.”
“Arietta’s? Why is Arietta’s dressing table here?”
“Arietta and the boys came to stay here nearly every second summer until she died. This was Arthur’s room.”
“Really?” I waltzed over and sat on the blanket box at the end of my bed. “Then, shouldn’t he be staying in here?”
Morgaine opened her mouth to speak, but Mike scoffed loudly for her.
“I’ll take that as a no,” I said, then stood up and wandered over to the windows near my bed, realizing, when a calm breeze billowed the soft white curtains, that the window was actually a door. “I have a balcony?”
“Yes.” Morgaine stepped up and pushed the chiffon aside, tying it back with a ribbon on the wall. “Mike has one too.”
“Can I go out there?”
“Course.” She presented the path.
When I stepped out onto the white marble floor the world opened around me, like the walls had just peeled back. The sky went on forever over a darker blue in the distance—what I assumed was the ocean—and the gardens Mike mentioned earlier bristled proudly below us: greens and creams of grass and stone paths, and sprinklings of color from cherry blossom trees and rose bushes. There was even a hedge maze at the base of a long walkway. Beyond that, the enchanted forest bordered the manor, and a far walk past the east wing—to my left—a sweeping breeze swayed the long grasses in a familiar-looking field, the wind rising up over the stone edge of my balcony and brushing my hair back with the scent of the ocean.
“If I say ‘wow’, do you think that would adequately describe it?”
“Yeah,” she said, standing beside me. “I think that about covers it.”
“And if you look closely”—Mike pointed to the east—“you can just make out the top of the lighthouse from here.”
I looked along his arm, trying to see it.
“Once you’ve been down there and you know where it is, you’ll be able to spot it easier. It’s white, so it kinda blends in with the day.” He dropped his arm.
“I can’t wait to see it.”
“Not alone, though. Okay?”
“Not even the lighthouse?”
“Even I wouldn’t recommend it, Majesty,” Morgaine said.
“Why?”
“It sits on a steep cliff with about a four-hundred-foot drop onto sharp rocks.”
“Where’s the beach?”
“Between the cliffs, left of the lighthouse. If you sit up on the roof, you can see it.”
“You sit on the roof of the lighthouse?”
“Of course.” Morgaine leaned on the railing. “I like to sit up there when there’s a storm.”
“Why?”
“To watch.” She closed her eyes, smiling. “Sand as white as snow and waves made of pure violence. It’s tempest meets tranquility.”
“It’s just as violent when there’s no storm, too,” Mike said sternly, his eyes clearly saying, ‘don’t encourage her.’
“Mike? Will you take me down there today?”
“Nope,” Morgaine cut in. “He’s under strict recommendations to leave you alone until tomorrow.”
“Recommendations? By who?”
“Me.” She puffed her chest out, then laughed. “All we’ve heard this entire week is I can’t wait to show Ar the barracks, I can’t wait to show Ar the training hall, I can’t wait—”
“Point taken.”
“If he takes you down to the ‘beach’, you’ll end up at the barracks,” she finished.
“Where are they—the barracks—and what are they?”
“That’s the knight’s living quarters. They’re over the eastern quadrant of the island, still on manor grounds. Not quite far enough to be part of Lamia, but—”
“Wait, what’s Lamia?”
“The village.”
>
“The houses you saw on the way in,” Mike added.
“Oh, okay.” I nodded and looked upon the forest of trees, all so green and thick, shading what I could only imagine were a hundred great spots to take one of those books from the library. The trees became thicker and taller the further inland they went, making me wonder if that’s where the Stone of Truth was. “Well, I love it here already,” I said after a few deep breaths of the pine-scented ocean air.
“You’ll love it even more when you see your wardrobe and your bathroom.” Morg stole my hand and led me away from Mike, who followed, groaning.
Across from my bed, the open sitting room looked inviting, with a throw rug over a settee, and a fireplace set below a giant mirror. I pictured winters snuggled up in that settee by the window, listening to the rain, reading a book.
“Okay, behind door number one,” Morgaine said and pushed it open, “is your bathroom.”
The light was out, the curtains drawn, so all I really saw in the giant space was ceramic tiles and a giant bath in the nook of the window, which faced the front of the manor. “Nice.”
“Yep,” she said, then closed the door and dragged me to the second one. “And behind door number two—”
I didn’t even need to hold my breath; my body did it for me. White shelves covered nearly every wall, with clothes hanging from rails in between. There was a full-length mirror and a few silky ottomans I could sit on to tie my laces. One might say that it was a dream closet, but I’d never have been able to dream this up. Vicki might though.
My smile dropped, seeing the empty side of the wardrobe: David’s side.
“So, you like?” Morgaine said.
“No.” I shook my head. “I love.”
“Good. Now, all your stuff has been unpacked for you.” She walked over and opened a drawer, showing the sweater I packed this morning. “And those clothes we picked out of that catalogue are all here too.” She propped her hands on her hips, shutting the drawer with her shin. “You’re all set to be queen.”
“Great,” I said and stepped out of the wardrobe. “But… after a nap.”
“Point taken.” She moved away from me and linked arms with Mike. “Come on, Soldier, time to let this princess sort her head out.”
“If we leave her until she figures her head out, Morg, it’ll be the turn of the century before we can return,” he said.
“Hmpf!” I looked at the pile of pillows on my bed and considered ditching one at his head.
They just laughed and closed my door behind them, leaving me standing alone in what felt like an empty space.
A clock on the wall in my sitting room kept the pace of my heart, and I stood there with one foot on the corner of a Persian rug, the other on the wood floor, imagining myself in this space—seeing my days, seeing moments I might spend with David—which made me think about our fight.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and checked my messages and emails. Nothing. He was still mad at me, I knew it, but I didn’t quite understand why. I mean, yeah, Mike and I had to be here together, but that just didn’t explain his “I don’t know what it is, but something’s different” comment. Or whatever it was he said.
Hi, David, I texted. Got here okay. All is well. In case you care.
After a moment of consideration, I deleted the last line before pressing send, then wandered over and slumped down on the settee by the giant window, where I spent the better part of the afternoon in my own head.
Never a good place to be.
2
The only real sign that my body was making the slow change from human to the strong Lilithian vampire was the skin under my wedding band. Sharp snaps of electricity weaved around the tips of my fingers, making them warm, making anything I touched hot or sometimes dead. Flowers, grass, they wilted under this blue light that I could summon from within me. But my skin, despite my wedding band becoming almost red-hot, did not melt. And I always felt like it should; like I was pouring acid over a glass screen poised directly above my hand; as if I’d escaped a penalty that I knew I deserved.
Power of this magnitude always had a consequence. David had even made me take my engagement ring off—afraid the electricity would reflect off the cut angles of the diamond and shoot something I hadn’t intended to. But it was more likely he was afraid I’d lose it. I wasn’t sure how much he paid for it, but when I found the receipt one day, he all but leaped across the room to stop me looking at it.
I hugged my knees to my chest on the settee and smiled, remembering that moment: he was so human then, jumping around the house, holding that receipt out of my reach with a big smile on his face. He could’ve just run vampire style, but he chose to play keep-off the human way, because he liked the playful flirtation—with me. He liked me. Wanted me.
I flicked the light from my fingers into the cold fireplace, where it flamed blue against the lighter fluid on the wood there for a second then flickered away to embers, giving me a sharp ache in my temples.
The stress of worrying about David, worrying why he hadn’t texted me back, was making my flame weak, my shot less powerful, and the headache I got from using it more severe.
“Amara?”
I lifted my head from my knee and looked over to my bedroom door. “Oh, hey, Morgaine.”
“Hi. Um, just wanted to let you know Arthur Knight arrived a few hours ago. He’s asked to see you.”
“Oh, really?” I stood up. “I didn’t think he was coming until later today.”
She looked out the window. “Your Majesty, it is later today.”
I looked out the window at the setting sun turning everything bright orange, casting scarlet shadows across my floor. “Oh. Right. Okay, tell him I’ll be down in a sec. I just wanna get changed first.”
She laughed. “Why?”
I wandered over to my wardrobe. “Because… I don’t know, it seems almost wrong to go meet a High Councilman in a pair of jeans.”
“If he’s faithful to the new Order, Amara, he’s no longer a High Councilman.”
I shrugged. “Still. I’m making myself more presentable.”
“Okay, fine, but hurry up. I need to discuss a few things with you on the way down to the Great Hall.”
“Like what?” I said from my wardrobe, slipping into my blue cotton dress.
“Like what you can and cannot say to him.”
“You mean like David being ali—”
“Shh!” She appeared in front of me, cupping her hand over my mouth. “What is wrong with you?”
I frowned, peeling her fingers away. “What?”
“You can’t say things like that aloud here; the walls have ears. And especially do not say it to Arthur.”
“I’m not stupid, Morgaine.”
“I know.” She softened. “There’s just a lot at stake.”
I nodded. “I am reminded of that daily. But I really don’t think Arthur’s a traitor.”
“Amara, he is a traitor. Maybe he doesn’t plan to betray us, but that means he’s betrayed a king he was loyal to for centuries.”
“Guess that makes sense.” I followed her out to the corridor, feeling the warmth of the ending day fill every corner of this manor, giving it a safe, kind of familial feel. As we reached the landing on the second floor, the spicy scent of curry and boiled rice made my stomach groan.
“Hungry?” Morgaine said.
“Yeah.” I lopped a hand across my gut. “I couldn’t eat all day.”
“Do you want something now.” She stopped with her palm flat on the heavy white door to the Great Hall. “Arthur might get bludgeoned by the ogre if you don’t eat.”
I shook my head, more than a little eager to see what was beyond those doors. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. It’s Arthur I’m worried about.”
I smiled. “He’ll be fine, too. I have way too much respect for him to become… tempestuous.”
“Hm, yes, he does command a certain amount of respect, doesn’t he?”<
br />
I watched the memories of past moments warm her eyes, then moved in to link arms with her. “Come on, let’s go see him.”
The second-floor landing continued into the Great Hall, opening to a grand staircase like the one in the front entrance, while mahogany-paneled walls and gold-framed mirrors made the huge space look as majestic as a palace. But all else in the world faded when my eyes travelled past the paintings and stopped on the west side of the room, where a grand piano sat proudly in the square of light coming through the giant window.
“No one told me there was a piano.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s been there for years. David learned to play on that, you know.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “Arietta taught him.”
“Here. At Loslilian?”
She nodded and started down the stairs.
“Did you ever meet them—as boys?”
She laughed. “Yes. Many times.”
“Gross. Didn’t that make it kind of weird dating David then?”
“Not really. I hadn’t seen him for about twenty years before I dated him.”
“Oh, okay. That’s not so bad.”
“So”—she pointed to the middle of the room—“that table there is where we dine formally each night.”
“Right.” I cringed at the length of it: enough to seat about forty people. “I was going to ask if that’s where we sacrificed lambs, but thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
She groaned, her hand sliding over the railing as she continued down the stairs ahead of me. “You might wanna get that ogre in check, Majesty.”
“Sorry. Didn’t realize sarcasm was against the rules here.”
“Amara. Stop it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
She just shook her head then tilted it, so her voice projected further. “Arthur.”
I hadn’t noticed him standing by the fireplace, looking up at a giant painting of a woman. He turned, taking his eyes off her brush-stroked face only as we approached. “Morgaine.” He took her hands and leaned down to kiss both her cheeks. “Lovely to see you again.”
“And you.” She stood back, keeping hold of his hand for a second more. “May I present Princess Amara?”
Dark Secrets Box Set Page 141
