28. CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28

DANIELLA

The next morning, we got on the road early. As much as we would’ve liked, we weren’t going to be traveling to Nerethien using our transfer token. It wouldn’t do for a dignitary such as Earl Qierlan to simply appear when he hadn’t been invited.

Mythorne hadn’t reached out for an alliance, and though word had been sent to the Unseelie King, he hadn’t replied, which apparently wasn’t uncommon for the monarch. It seemed he enjoyed being an asshole and making himself feel important.

This was the reason Kalyll and I exited Qierlan’s castle riding horses and being followed by a small retinue that would tend to our needs while on the road for the next day. Jeondar and Arabis were with us. They were in the guise of the earl’s and Mylendra’s attendants, respectively, also aided by Naesala’s potion, the others—Kryn, Silver, Cylea, and Larina—had snuck out of the castle before sun up and were likely already waiting for us in the Unseelie capital. Lucky them.

The real earl and his daughter remained behind, the former asleep, and the latter stashed away in Kryn’s bedroom. I felt at ease as we departed, trusting that they would cause no trouble. Earl Qierlan hadn’t awakened all night long, so I’d drained him again, then we transferred him, along with the guard and attendants, to the dungeon cell Kryn had prepared for them during the night.

I only regretted I would miss seeing his face when he woke up and found himself weighed down by heavy chains—nothing like the Qrorium ones we’d used on Kalyll in Imbermore, shadowdrifters were especially powerful when they first came into their abilities—but strong enough to hold him. And the bonus? Kryn told us, wearing a too-satisfied smile, that no one went to the dungeons. Ever. I was sure he would’ve also loved to see his father’s expression when he realized he would not be selling his daughter to Mythorne.

In the end, three days of quiet travel ended up being better than I expected. Kalyll and I rode ahead of the group, and we had time to talk and be together like never before. We’d been through so much together, peril a constant shape looming at our backs. And though this time we were headed straight into danger, we were able to find some much-needed peace.

Every day, we kept our new appearances in place by drinking one of the potions, and I watched with concern as our supply dwindled.

Too soon, our journey was over, and after we crested a steep hill on the third day, we caught our first sight of Nerethien.

From this distance, the city appeared to be a dark and dirty place. The streets were narrow and winding, and the buildings squat and cramped, except for the large, black-stone palace that loomed at the north fringes.

My horse’s hooves seemed to grow heavier as we started our descent toward the city. I knew it was my imagination, but I felt as if even the animal feared the place.

As we reached a cobblestone road that led straight to the Unseelie palace, my first impression proved right. The city wasn’t pleasant. The air was thick with the smell of sewage and smoke, and rats scurried through the gutters, bold and fat. I sensed an edge of desperation from the people and wondered at the levels of crime and disease in these unhealthy conditions. Their poverty was evident in their rags and sallow faces. Here, unlike Elyndell, the houses ran in rows and left no room for nature. There were no hanging bridges going from tree to tree, no dwellings that grew and morphed from thick trunks. No moss-carpeted paths, no flowers.

Everything and everyone appeared lackluster. Compared to the splendor of Elyndell and Imbermore, Nerethien seemed to belong to a different realm altogether.

A dirty-faced child stood on the side of the paths and held what appeared to be a doll made from scraps. She stared at us with big violet eyes, a pair of iridescent wings hanging limply behind her. Her insistent gaze seemed to pierce through me and made me squirm on my saddle and resent the fine dress and jewels I wore.

I thought I couldn’t feel any worse until, gradually, the look of the place began to change, giving way to larger and better-looking homes. The changes happened at a steady rate until we arrived at a grand palace that was as opulent as the outer edge of the city was drab.

“I knew it was like this,” Kalyll said. “But seeing it with my own eyes…” He couldn’t finish and just shook his head, appearing troubled.

I never imagined that things could be this bad in Elf-hame. The disparity in wealth was staggering. How could anyone live with themselves when others suffered, and they were responsible for it? Mythorne was supposed to take care of these people. Instead, he only took advantage of them.

As we approached the guarded gate, my heart started pounding. At first, I tried to disguise my fear, but in the end, it was easier to allow my gaze to dart from side to side and my chest to move with agitation. Mylendra would’ve felt the same or worse, after all. So why not let it show?

It wasn’t until Kalyll reached for my hand, and we rode into the castle after announcing who we were, that I managed to gather my strength. I had to usher Dark Dani forward, and it was all right. There was nothing wrong with fighting darkness with darkness.

The ancient castle loomed over the city, its massive dark walls casting shadows over the surrounding dwellings below.

We dismount in front of a large arched entrance, flanked by two towers. The doorway was made of stone and covered in intricate carvings, the same as the towers and their battlements. The structure was a formidable sight, clearly built to withstand outside forces. It seemed a place of mystery and intrigue, somewhere I’d rather not visit.

A spindly man dressed in a long black tunic very similar to what human priests wore greeted us at the door.

He showed two rows of pointed teeth as he grimaced at us. I wondered if he thought he was smiling.

“Earl Qierlan Goren of the Fall Court, and his lovely daughter Mylendra Goren. Welcome to Highmire. Your visit is unexpected, to say the least, and I must immediately inquire as to its purpose.” The male’s smile/grimace died a slow death with each word, leaving only suspicion behind. If this was how they received their supposed allies, I didn’t want to know how they treated their enemies.

Kalyll didn’t bat an eye, however, and when he spoke there was nothing but surety in his voice. “I am here to talk to the Unseelie King, not one of his… subordinates.”

I nearly choked. The animosity that hung in the air felt like a shroud descending over us. Did Kalyll know what he was doing? God, I really hoped so. Treating the Unseelie King’s emissary badly didn’t seem like a good idea, but then again, appearing weak probably wasn’t one either. There was a balance, I supposed. A game that Kalyll had been raised to play. I had to trust this situation was in the best hands possible.

The subordinate as Kalyll had blatantly called him showed his teeth again, though this time the gesture could not be confused with a smile. Not even close.

“This subordinate has the authority to kick you out,” he barked, spitting saliva.

This time it was Kalyll’s turn to show razor-sharp teeth. I blinked in surprise. It wasn’t known that Earl Qierlan was a shadowdrifter, and Kalyll had just made the decision to reveal it. I had no idea what consequences the Earl would face once the secret was made public, but perhaps Kalyll believed that the male deserved whatever was coming to him.

“Go ahead and try,” Kalyll growled. “I’m sure King Mythorne will have no difficulty finding someone to replace you. People like you are as common as dirt. I should know because when one displeases me, I simply find another one.”

The male took a step back, his eyes narrowing with caution. Surely, there were guards he could call to help him throw us out the door, but I had a feeling he sensed “the earl” would be done with him before he could utter a single word.

“So what shall it be?” Kalyll demanded.

“The king is busy. He can’t abandon everything anytime a minor court member arrives unannounced.”

“Now you are just being petty.” Kalyll laughed. “But that is fine, we’ll wait. I will, however, make sure the king hears about your behavior toward someone who comes to offer troops and alliance for the upcoming war. C’mon, darling, we will sit over there to wait. I know you’re tired from your long journey, but just hold on a little longer. Meeting King Mythorne will be your recompense.”

The male whirled on his heel and walked away, his long black robe sweeping behind him. As we sat on a velvet upholstered bench, Kalyll squeezed my hand and gave me a reassuring smile.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d had to wait for an hour, but within the span of ten minutes, a page boy came to fetch us and guide us deeper into the palace. As our steps resonated across the dark cavernous halls, my hands began sweating. We were willingly moving deeper into the devil’s den.

The thought occurred to me that we might end up in the same dark cell from which I’d rescued Kalyll only days ago. If that happened, I feared no one would be able to find us ever again.

Pushing my worries aside, I matched Kalyll’s firm steps and pushed my shoulders back, determined to portray nothing but strength.

After we entered a dimly lit area, the page boy paused, then made a sweeping gesture with his hand. After that, he exited and a set of double doors closed behind us with a clank. A few torches glowed from their high perches on the slick dark columns that lined the path ahead. At the end of the long corridor sat an empty throne lit from behind, two guards standing at either side. Someone had a flair for the overly dark and dramatic.

We walked forward, our steps echoing as they would in a mausoleum. We stopped a few steps from the dais, and I had to stop myself not to gape at the baleful throne, which seemed to be built from veined black marble and bones.

The Unseelie King entered from one side and sat down. He crossed one leg and propped an elbow on the armrest of his grotesque throne, one index finger tapping his sharp chin. He was a tall, thin male with pale skin, a hooked nose, and shoulder-length white hair. His demeanor was full of impatience and annoyance, as if the existence of others were a nuisance to him, as if it made him angry that others breathed the same air he did.

“My King,” Kalyll said, after swallowing the bile that acting servile in front of this male must bring to his throat.

I paired his bow with a curtsy as I held Mythorne’s inquisitive gaze. He was getting an eyeful of my boobs, which meant the revealing dress I’d chosen was doing its job.

Mythorne lifted an eyebrow, as if unsatisfied by the proffered respect. When Kalyll frowned, Mythorne’s eyes lowered to the floor. Taking the hint, Kalyll bent a knee, teeth clenched. I did the same, bile burning in my throat. It was humiliating.

After the shortest bow in deference, we stood back up. Impatiently, Mythorne waved a hand and glanced to the side of the dais where he had entered. He waved again, inviting someone in. Footsteps sounded, and a person appeared beside Mythorne. I nearly choked and had to look to Kalyll for an example of how to remain composed. I honestly didn’t know how he managed to look so calm at the sight of Cardian at the right hand of the Unseelie King. Or how he bowed when what he clearly wanted to do was chop their heads off.

“What do you think of this, Cardian,” Mythorne said. “He comes to offer me troops that are already at my disposal.”

“The gall of it.” Cardian smirked.

Kalyll slowly glanced around the throne room as if searching for the subordinate. He seemed to ponder for a moment, then decided to go for shock value.

“Nonsense, I’ve come to offer you a wife.” He took a step to the side and made a flourish in my direction.