“It’s certainly . . . uniform.” And monochromatic. “How far are we from the edge of the island?” She’d expected her fear of heights would have kicked in by now, but she felt no different than if she were standing on terra firma.
“We’re about in the center.”
“It truly is warm.”
“The climate extends for miles around the Territories.”
“Where is everyone?” Not a soul could be seen.
“I believe it’s the middle of the night. Morning comes very early here.” He pointed toward the largest building in the area, one elevated above all the rest. “That’s Skye Hall.”
“I never knew it was an actual hall.” The seat of Vrekener power.
The grand edifice was the only building with the slightest ornamentation; Corinthian columns fronted it, but like all the others, it apparently had no roof. What might be this island’s only trees grew around it.
“The building was constructed against a ridge. The assembly rooms front the elevation, while the royal residence is above it.”
After all she and Thronos had been through, the prospect of entering that hall and facing Aristo left her queasy. “Can we wait till tomorrow to talk with him?”
“Yes. We must be wed first,” Thronos said decisively.
Shit just got real.
“He might not even be in residence,” Thronos pointed out. “He often travels.”
Busy, busy Aristo. Wonder what he’s up to now . . . “Okay, then, show me your digs.” Even if there was some kind of air mojo up here, she was getting dizzy from the altitude, having gone from miles below sea level to miles above it.
“Don’t know what digs are, Melanthe.”
“Where’s your place?”
“Our place.” She knew the exact moment when he comprehended he was truly going to claim her—and soon. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his piercing gaze sweeping over her body—as if he was deciding what he wanted to do with it first. He didn’t block his thoughts, but she didn’t delve.
In a huskier voice, he said, “We live there.” With his free hand, he pointed out another structure high on a cliffside, at the edge of the village. Though unconnected to the other structures, it wasn’t more than a hundred yards or so from them.
“Hmm.” They started toward it.
“Hmm what?”
“I guess I was expecting a palace or something. Our roofless house is really close to other roofless houses, huh?” How ’bout those wedding night sex acoustics?
“We’re not without problems in our kingdom, Lanthe. We live immortal lives, yet our lands are finite. We face overpopulation.”
Interesting. “When we talk to Aristo, you can tell him we’re going to go found a Vrekener offshoot colony in a different realm. We’ll call it LantheLand.”
“As appealing as LantheLand sounds, I don’t see it happening. The Vrekeners will always live together. Our unity is our strength.” Thronos stopped to gaze down at her. “So eager to leave? When you just got here?”
“I fear things won’t turn out with your brother as you expect them to.”
“Maybe I don’t expect a resolution. Maybe I just need to say I tried.”
That she could accept. She nodded, and he continued leading her toward . . . their home.
On the way, he pointed out a trio of obelisks of differing heights. “I learned to fly by dropping from those columns—the smallest one when I was but two or so.”
She imagined him as a toddler, fearlessly leaping into a parent’s arms, wearing the determined expression she knew so well; maybe that look had been born there. His wings would probably have been oversized for his little body. “I’ll bet you were absolutely adorable.” A thought struck her. “Does your mother still live?”
“Most Vrekeners don’t go on without their mates.”