20. hideaway

20

hideaway

Lucynda

October 28th

The sun greets me in a warm caress, soothing over the chills that berate my skin as I leave the comfort of my husband's bed. I know he was up early this morning to prepare for the meeting he'll call over Hollows Trace later, which I hope to attend as well so long as Troian and I can secure the meaning of our plans today.

I'm starting to feel better about my place here as the queen, but also as Rivian's wife. As far as I know, there is no turning back. After hearing the options on how to escape vampirism, my only option is to try and work this out.

Maybe only option isn't the right term, seeing as I do really want to be here, and I appreciate the effort that Rivian is putting into his redemption. It's safe to say that I look forward to my days learning new things about him and this kingdom and my nights getting lost with him in our desires. No matter how angry I might be with him, our physical chemistry is undeniable and I'm glad to know that will always be there. Though there is a thaw. I feel it so deeply inside me. Part of me wonders if I continue to rebuild the walls he is desperately trying to knock down because I am not mentally prepared to face the fact that I do have feelings for someone who was willing to betray me.

That’s such a cliche thing to say: I have feelings for someone . Especially given the trajectory of what’s led up to that conclusion.

I stretch my body from the sleep, letting a yawn escape me before I pad over to the bathroom to freshen up. I find that he's brought some of my clothes from my bedroom's closet along with some of my other belongings, smiling at the idea that this might just be our room now.

I get busy putting myself together before I'm greeted with a light knock at the door. I turn around to see that Natasha is standing there in the doorway.

"Oh. Hi, Natasha," I greet the sweet old lady as she bows her head at me. I blush at the formality, but I guess that's something I'll have to get used to.

"Your Highness. I wanted to know what you fancy cooking for dinner tonight?" Natasha's old and sweet, weathered voice fills the silence in the air as confusion washes over me.

I've never been asked what I've wanted for dinner before.

"I'm unsure of what you mean?" I tilt my head at her and wait for her response.

"The king stated that you might want to cook dinner tonight," she says and I chew over the thought.

Me. Cook dinner tonight? Why would he think that?

"He said that cooking was a novelty you enjoyed." I let her words sink in and understand that Rivian couldn't have possibly noticed that unless . . . he had been watching. Which I know he was.

I smile at his thoughtfulness. But I'm not sure I should be taking any more free time than necessary to perform simple, domestic things. Dancing was one thing. Cooking might bring my love for my old life back to the surface; when I was able to dance freely about my kitchen, taste testing foods that only I would get to enjoy, and…

Stella.

I know he didn't mean to kill her. She was a small creature after all. But something about her reminded me of myself and I did find comfort in knowing she was there.

Suddenly, sadness finds its way back into my bones and I look over to Natasha who is waiting for me to answer her.

"I don't think tonight is a good night for this, Natasha. Maybe we can plan for a different day?" I offer her as kindly as possible, not wanting to rub her the wrong way. She simply nods her head with a small smile and agrees, "Of course, Your Highness." And then she leaves.

I turn to my reflection in the mirror and study my appearance to make sure I'm ready to go. I don't know what I can expect from today's events, but I don't overthink it too much as I turn to leave the room.

I run into Troian downstairs who seems to have been waiting on me.

"'Bout damn time, princess-" She stops herself and I see her question how she was about to approach me.

We both eye each other down for a beat. Her stare holds animosity and confliction while I look at her with hesitation. We're sisters, but I am her queen, and I tried to kill her out of a fit of fury. But she saved my ass to help Rivian, who is her brother and the reason why her mother, my mother, was in the castle to begin with, because he was trying to kill her .

What a dynamic.

"Listen, Troy-" I start but she cuts me off.

"Lucyn-I mean, Your Highness." She sheepishly rubs the back of her neck as she clears her throat. "There's a lot here, a lot we have to unpack. But I'm willing to look past it if we can agree to work together on this." She crosses her arms over her leather jacket.

I eye up the rest of her outfit, black jeans, black shirt, black jacket, black boots. Almost identical to what I chose to wear today, as if we're on a top secret mission. Except my boots go to my knees where hers are more of a combat style. And my shirt is a ribbed turtleneck while hers is more of a loose-fitted t-shirt. Her onyx-colored hair is wrapped in a tight, sleek bun that sits right at the top of her head whereas my snowy strands lay in a braid off to one side of my shoulders.

I catch a glimpse of a tattoo that peeks out from under the sleeve of her jacket. I can’t say I’ve ever noticed it before. It’s a single word inked out in some kind of fancy mix of print and cursive. I don’t want to stare too long but from here, it looks like it spells out women . It intrigues me and I want to ask her about it, but I decide to let it go knowing that it isn’t really of importance.

There are similarities in us all while we stand out from each other in the same breath. A sister I've always wanted and I might have ruined our relationship before it even truly began. But I know that just as Rivian has to work to build back what could have been with me, I have to do the same with her. So, I nod in agreement which is good enough for her.

She turns on her heel and swings her other foot out in front of her to face the door.

"Ready to go visit Mom, little sis?" She offers and I see a slight smirk curl against her naturally pink lips, where mine are colored a bright red.

I smile back at her and open the door. "As ready as I'll ever be." And in no less than a minute, we're off to the kingdom of Valor Cove.

It's a few hours later when we arrive in Vermont, a place I didn't think I'd ever step foot in again. Granted I found myself there in a fit of anger, motivated by my new vampirism and the jealous rage I felt when that bird-chick came in to taunt me and my husband. But here we are again, driving through the once gorgeous hills and rich houses reminding me all too well that the beauty on the outside does not guarantee beauty on the inside.

I thought that if we could have manifested here, it would shorten the time we spent driving but I forgot that my sister doesn't always play by vampire rules. She suggested we take the drive—she was speeding most of the time— in order to let our minds relax for a few hours before we scramble it with more family drama , she said.

I appreciated her offer, because the drive definitely soothed me over for a while; the winds blew through the cracks in the windows and the soft rock that Troian listened to settled into the silence. It was bliss. But as we turn off the highway and find ourselves on a dirt road—one I've never seen before—in the middle of nowhere, I can tell we're nearly there.

It's strange that my mother decided to hide away in a Society so close to my hometown. The town she gave birth to me in. Or at least not far from it.

Fallen Meadows is the town I went to school in, the same school where I got belittled everyday by my now deceased ex step-sisters. I'd only killed one of them that night but I know that Rivian finished the job and made it look like some kind of double murder-suicide to save my ass. Whatever the case, this town was home—is still home—to a lot of painful memories. Memories I kept bottled up, not quite tightly sealed, and now, I feel the pain flood me knowing that my mother was here all along. Or at least some of the time.

Was she here to keep an eye on me? Did she watch me from the shadows too? If so, how could she watch what I went through day in and day out without stepping in somehow?

I feel the car slow as the crunch of gravel sounds beneath the tires. I look ahead at the window and see . . . nothing.

"Cloaked," Troian says. "Just like Hollows Trace." I guess I never thought that all Societies remain hidden from plain sight just the same.

"How are we getting in without getting detected?" I wonder.

"Well, normally, visitation between societies has never been a problem, so it's not a big secret that we know where all the Nocturnes compounds are. Normally, all we'd have to do is name drop the person we're visiting and they'd let us in. We just have to follow their rules." Troian grins and something tells me that she doesn't always like to follow the rules. “I was at a party not far from here the night my brother saved you,” she adds as she looks around and so many things go through my mind. Like how small of a world this really is, and how mysterious.

To think that she could have been anywhere that night or that Rivian could have been too busy to come find his sister. Would he have never found me? Learned who I was and used me for…

I have to stop thinking about that. What’s done is done.

I look over to Troy to see her scoping out her surroundings.

When we had the little family meeting the other day, I had realized she was the only one who didn't speak up or have a secret to spill. The only thing remotely scandalous I know about her is that she's been hooking up with—or has hooked up with—Rivian's ex-fiancé,

Ugh. The word sounds hideous coming out of my mouth.

Maybe this is a chance to find out if Troy has any hidden agendas of her own. Or maybe you should mind your own business and focus on the task at hand, I tell myself.

"Travois used to visit our mom,” she disrupts my thoughts. “Or at least I thought until he confessed that he hadn't been?" She rubs her temples. " Ugh , my head is starting to spin again," she singsongs in a frustrated tone in which I giggle at.

Troy shoots daggers at me with her stern eyes and I hold my hand up in defense, palms face out as I push into the back of the seat. "Sorry," I defend myself before she continues her explanation.

"Each kingdom has an access code, one for each Royal of the kingdom. Which, I guess our mom is or was a Royal?" she questions herself. "I can't be sure anymore what's what but regardless, Ameliana had given him her code to use whenever he wanted access."

"An access code?" My eyebrows dip in confusion and she just waves me off.

"I'm sure you'll get yours soon. But what I'm getting at is, I was able to talk Trav into giving me the access code. So I'm thinking we can either use it and try our best to sneak undetected past the gate guards or…" she trails off, pointing her eyes to the ceiling of the car and twisting her lips to the side.

"Or what?" I urge her.

"Nope. That's the option. That's our only choice." She shrugs her shoulders and I scoff. “We have to enter through the gate to make entry or the cloak stays unlifted to our eyes,” she adds as she squints her eyes forward. “Once the gate is open and we pass through, we’re free to manifest the shit over to the castle.”

She explains the rules to me but honestly, I'm not really sure if I'm down to play army men through some foreign territory of another man's kingdom with my long lost sister. I’m not even used to my own castle yet, and I’m expected to trespass another to hunt down a mother who left all of us to live out this crazy life married to a vampire of a brother who supposedly has it out for my royal husband?

“Tell me about it,” Troian chimes in as she reads my mind.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all this,” I state, looking at her as she continues to assess the grounds.

But I suck in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it release. You can do this, I mentally boost myself, feeling a slight more confident already. The tickle on my tongue to tell Troian that her plan better not fail us is getting stronger but I decide to swallow my words and trust that she knows what she's doing.

"I'll follow your lead," I say to her, which has her pushing on the gas in reverse, taking us back down the road a bit before sliding into a little hidden area just out of sight.

We both exit the car and stick to the inner trees, not wanting to be seen on the driveway back up to the gate.

As we approach, birds chirp and the sun gleams off the small mounds of snow. It's still kind of chilly, seeing as it isn't even noon yet, but I grip my jacket tighter across my chest and follow behind Troy's steps.

Once at the gate, she's careful not to make too many noises so that she doesn't alert any guards that might be nearby. She peeks her head over the corner of the bricked column that reaches the gate, most likely to see if she can spot the keypad.

I try to help by thinking where I've seen our gate’s keypad but seeing anything in resemblance doesn't come to mind. I turn my head to my right to try and make it seem like I'm helping, and that's when I accidentally spot a black box tucked into a small alcove of a tree on the other side of the path.

"There," I whisper to her as I point in the direction of the keypad.

"Good job, but fuck ," she whispers back. Both of us trying our best to keep the noises to a minimum.

I kind of understand her frustration, but then I give her a pointed look as a thought enters my head. "Why don't you just-" and before I can finish making any kind of suggestion, a gust of wind flies past me, a swoosh accompanying it.

I'm nearly knocked on my ass in shock before I see that Troy had manifested herself over to the box to enter the code. I see her look at her phone to repeat the numbers. As soon as she's done pushing the numbers on the keypad, the gate starts to slowly creak open and just as quickly as she left, she comes right back but this time grabbing me in the midst of her apparitional transportation. Before I can even gasp, I find that we are tucked into the high branches of a tree. The dead leaves fall to the ground as the branch shakes lightly, but she holds us as still as possible.

"What are you-" I attempt to speak, keeping my voice scarce but she just clamps her hands around my mouth.

My eyes go wide and she lets go, moving her index finger to position upright against her lips and using another to point to her ear, signaling me to shut up and listen.

So I do. And when I focus in, closing my eyes and keeping a steady pace of my breathing, I hear . . . everything. Snow falling from the branches as the winds brush past. The whir of engines that speed off on the highway nearly two miles back. I hear water running somewhere nearby. A faucet from inside the castle? Maybe a river down the way? And then, the crunch of leaves. And footsteps creating them.

She was right to be cautious. Someone is walking the grounds. As we both peer through the branches and leaves, we can see in the distance that one of the guards approaches the gate from the otherside, now wide open.

He looks at it confused, and signals his counterpart over. I can hear them as they try to figure out how it opened. The wind hits at the right time and budges the gate slightly, causing them to believe it could have unlatched due to the wind.

"When I say go," she whispers against my ear, so low that I almost don't hear her. "Meet me at the left side of the castle." Panic floods me. I don't know if I can gauge that distance. How will I know when to stop? How do I know it'll even work? I haven't manifested by myself willingly just yet. I've only done it when I found myself at my old home, but even then I had no real idea how I did it.

Troian gives me a promising look, one that says she believes in me. It gives me hope, but hope is merely a four letter word. Just like fail and weak and dumb and can't.

I realize I don't have much time to sit here and continue to berate myself because before I know it, the gate is starting to close. The guard has walked away by now but there's only a few seconds left before the gate is closed and I know we have to work fast.

I close my eyes, hold my breath, and picture the side of castle as I wait for Troy to-

"Go," she whisper-shouts and I open my eyes to watch her disappear but when I go to look for her, I'm met with a wall of deep red bricks instead.

"What the…" I let my words fade as I scale upward, seeing no end to the bricks. I startle at the sound of the gate coming together with a ring of metal and I look to my right to see that I am on the other side of the gate, right next to the castle.

"Not bad, but you were a few seconds late," Troian taunts playfully as she leans casually against the brick building, one foot kicked back behind her to prop her up.

"I didn't know it was that easy." I look back to the building, taking a few steps back to take it all in. It's nearly identical to the one I'm used to seeing every day. The one I damn near burned down.

This castle holds more stained glass windows as opposed to the big bay windows I'm used to. And the coloring is red and black whereas Rivian's castle is dark gray and black. A few matching compound buildings are scattered about just the same but there's no cliff, no gazebo. The trees aren't as tall and the air feels different here.

"It's not home," Troy leans into my ear. I shake her off with my shoulder and she steps back. "By the way, you smell way too good to be out here doing dirty work. Tip number . . . four-thousand,” she jokes as she comes up with a far-fetched number. “Don't wear perfumes while out on mission impossibles. They'll smell you a mile away. I don't know how Lord Farquaad couldn't sense you, but it will happen." She jabs a finger into my upper arm in an attempt to be playful, but it stings against the cold air so I close my hand over the area, making a scene to rub the ache.

"I didn't really plan to be on some kind of scavenger hunt today," I snark and she just rolls her eyes.

Troian is a hunter. I can sense her excitement for danger. The need to lead and find a way to expose light in darkness and vice versa. She enjoys the thrill of the hunt and thrives in the wilderness, the nature of being a nocturnal creature all while searching for more outside of her origin. She's mysterious but adventurous and she is the only one in the whole castle of Hollows Trace who terrifies me.

"Come on, let's go before we're caught out here." She turns her back to me and jogs along the edge of the castle.

I look back to see if anyone is watching before I follow along. We reach the back end of the building where an unguarded door is, and she doesn't hesitate to try the knob. We both look at each other surprised when it opens easily, and she forces me behind her as she peers in to make sure there's no threat on the other side.

She nods her head and looks at me. "The guards will know our faces. The guards and the king and queen. The rest of these dumb idiots won't know who the fuck we are but if you sense danger, get the hell out of dodge. You can manifest out of the castle if needed, but don't worry about leaving me behind. Your safety is more important," she says and a feeling of entitlement sinks low in my gut, making me feel nauseous at her words. "Got it?" She watches me, waits for my agreement, but I hate that she thinks I'm more important than her just because I'm a queen. But I nod my head in approval anyway and follow her through the entrance.

Troian shuts the door quietly behind us as I look around. The room is dark, but it looks like it could be some kind of laundry room just based on the smell of soap alone. Or maybe some sort of bathroom, who knows.

"What's the plan?" I ask Troy, knowing that we intend to find Amy but the how is what has me questioning.

"We should stick together. Like I said, I doubt anyone will recognize us." She shrugs off her jacket and ties it around her hips, leading me to reassess the outfits we chose today. We're both wearing all black which, despite her opinion on the matter, might make us stand out.

"Uh, um…" I clear my throat, and she notices what I'm seeing.

"Right, well . . . like I said these people are dumb." She pulls on the sleeves of her jacket to secure it in place before she continues, "Travois told me her room was on the second floor. He told me that despite what we know about her being married to the king's brother, he's never seen him around. At least not with her." She peeks around the room to see if there's another way out.

That's when I notice the light peeking out from under what I assume to be a door leading into a hallway most likely, and I point to it.

"You're a lot better at pathfinding than you think," she says and it dawns on me.

"I spent a lot of time thinking I was hearing and seeing things," I admit, referring to my short time I was being stalked by her invasive brother but she disregards my statement.

"Once we find our mother, we have to act quickly. We don't want to scare her off but we need to know what she knows. About Viktrum, about Dominek. Maybe she knows more than what was given to Rivian." I listen to Troian list off a rather concise plan, quick and to the point and dejection falls over my face.

My heart has been numb for years believing my mother abandoned me for selfish reasons. And maybe that's still true, but the first chance I had to finally confront her, I tempted to rip her heart from her body. I didn't know who she was of course, but now . . . now I have to play good cop, bad cop with my mother's other daughter instead of trying to figure out how or why she could leave me like that. She has to have known that I'd need her.

I look over to Troian who, unlike me, doesn't seem fazed by the fact that we both have lived through similar situations with the same woman. She masks her emotions a little bit better than I do because she probably has a better hold over her feelings than me. Though, it doesn't get past me that I'm sure she's thinking the same thing I am. She has to be, right?

“Another tip,” she remarks. “Royals can’t die just by ripping their hearts out. That only works for non-Royal Nocturnes.” Her advice doesn’t get lost on me. She’s referring to my attempt to assassinate her. “On top of taking their heart, you must burn their body or cut off their head.” Troian opens the door with caution and looks back at me. "Don't hesitate,” I nod my head once more before we both exit the room.

The hallway we stand in is just like that of the Hollows Trace castle. Dimly lit, sconces every foot or so down the wall, wallpaper and framed portraits of God knows who line the wall as well, and the view straight down is near dark.

"We need to find stairs," she mentions as we both try to figure out which way to travel first.

"Let's go this way," we both say at the same time as we point down opposite ends.

"You're the pathfinder," she quips and holds her hand out to the direction that I pointed to—what I believe to be the front of the castle— and allows me to lead the way.

I tense my shoulders and straighten my back, feigning some kind of leadership as she follows behind. After a few feet, we walk up to a ninety-degree angle that hooks left. None of us speak a word until we know for sure the coast is clear. Hopefully, no one is as much of an early bird as my husband is. But I know the time is ticking past noon now and the need for urgency is beating in my chest, making my nerves run rampant.

After a few minutes of silent travels through unknown territory, we finally reach a set of stairs that lead upward. "Good job," Troian praises as she pats me on the back and scoots past me to start her ascent up to the second floor. I focus my ears on the surrounding areas to make sure we won't be caught by anyone as I follow behind.

I'm surprised it's as quiet as it's been. I thought for sure we'd see a guard or two by now, maybe an afternoon wanderer. I know I don't see many people in our castle but then again, we at least run into a few other Nocturnes here and there.

"Something doesn't feel right," I say to Troy, not knowing if my instincts are of nerves digging into my brain or if something really does bother me.

"First time jitters," she assures me, waving me off as she looks down the hallway and peering into any open room we approach. "They go away the more you sneak around." I appreciate her faith in me, but I still don't feel satisfied with her explanation.

Something is off.

"Don't you think we should have run into someone by now? Anyone?" I try to argue but it only earns me a shrift shush from her, which frustrates me a bit.

I get that she's focused, but I can't ignore my gut feeling on this.

I decide to pull her arm, halting her from proceeding any further and I yank her back against the wall. I place my palm over her mouth to prevent her from arguing and I mimic her gesture from earlier, pointing to my ear.

She listens. And in the near distance, we can both hear the faint sound of footsteps—lots of them—starting to make their way up the stairs in what resembles an angry mob-march.

"It's a setup," I tell her, removing my hand. "They know we're here," I add and we both lift off the wall and take off down the hallway.

"Here," she whisper-yells, pulling on a doorknob to a room hidden in the part of the stretch that isn't covered by light source.

We both pull ourselves into the room but before she closes us in, I stop and turn.

"What are you doing?" she asks frantically as I run across the hall while yanking off my jacket.

I open another door just a few down, knowing that the mob of whoever is after us is not far down, and I toss my jacket in, hoping to get rid of the scent of my perfume. For extra measure, I lift up the flowers that sit in a vase on a side table, trickle a little of the soiled water over my chest, hating the unpleasantness of the water seeping into my shirt and hitting my skin, before putting things back in order and rushing to get the other room.

Troy holds her breath as she clicks the door closed as quietly as she can and we both jog over to hide behind the biggest object we can find. We crouch behind an armoire that sits against the wall, but we position ourselves so that we can't be seen over the couch that's in front of us a few feet. I don't really take too much time to pick apart the room we've found ourselves in, but it looks kind of like an unoccupied office. Like this space has been unused for a while, the way the dust feels thick in the air is the tell.

We hear the footsteps come up to the door quickly, causing me to mold myself as far into the wall as possible, and I freeze when something clicks behind me.

Troy and I turn our heads as carefully as possible, knowing that at any moment the door could burst open up on us and we'd be caught. We maneuver gently to find that the wall behind us moved and seems to be some sort of secret entrance.

We look at each other for no more than a moment's time before we make the decision to climb in, me first and her crawling behind me. We both let out a breath as we shut the wall-door back into place, unscathed.

We're stuck on our hands and knees as the ceiling above us doesn't extend more than two feet above the floor. Where we found ourselves is pitch black and we're forced to feel our way around to determine which way to go. Luckily, it doesn't seem like there are any extra turns we have to make choices on, as the hidden tunnel leads us straight to an opening that looks like a giant air vent.

We don't say a single word as we shift to get the air grate open, not knowing if anything might echo or where this hideaway might lead, but as we slide the door open, we both climb out and my body stretches as I'm able to stand straight again.

The room is dark, but it’s graced with the lighting of one of the largest windows I have ever seen allowing for sunlight to filter through generously. I wait for Troy to stand with me before I exhale the breath I was holding.

"That was lucky," she whispers.

"Where do you think we are?" I ask as I notice the near twenty-foot walls covered in shelves on shelves of books.

There's an old leather sofa in the center of the room with a single side table and a lone table lamp. There’s an unlit fireplace placed intricately between two shelves of weathered books. The carpeting under our feet feels almost too historical to be stepped on but other than that and the air smells a bit musty.

"Well, I know we're not on the second floor anymore," I hear Troian mumble.

I turn to see that she's standing in front of the large, flamboyant, gothic-style window adorned with intricate ornamentation and scattered inside a few of the shaped window panes are richly colored stained-glass squares. I approach her by her side and look out, not needing to stretch as the window starts at the floor and goes more than halfway up the wall. It’s got to be at least eight feet wide as well.

I look down, seeing that we have to be nearly five stories high—the very top of the castle. That's strange, I didn't feel an incline as we traveled through the hidden pathway . I trace the window all the way up and passed toward the top of the window frame. I notice that all of the walls lean up into a thin point at the very top, closing in the room. It's a very well thought out design plan, and a rather intimate setting for a library. A hidden one at that.

But the chances of anyone else knowing of this room are high so just as easily as we escaped here, we can be found.

I look around the room to see if I can spot another door but come up short. I notice Troy also having the same mindset. We both walk around the large space, careful not to make too much noise. While we may be safe hundreds of feet above where the guards were tracing us in a potentially secret room, we're unaware of anything surrounding the room so we both make it a point to remain hushed. I find myself walking to one of the corners where darkness looms, noticing that the bookshelves cutoff at the end of the wall. Before I reach the back wall, I see a small alcove to the right of me and . . . stairs.

"Troy," I whisper as I wave my sister over. She comes up behind me and we both analyze. It's a steel staircase that rounds in a spiral up through what looks like a layer of flooring. It's only about six feet up from where we stand and whatever is up there seems to be boxed in with more walls.

"You or me?" she asks and I look between her and the staircase. I really would like to go up there, but I'd only be doing it for the curiosity and adventure of it all. Troian is here for answers, and while we may not have found our mother, I know she'll be on a mission to look for anything to help her not leave empty handed.

"Be my guest," I say to her as I take a step back and watch her climb the stairs and disappear, as if into thin air.