Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,5

be allowed inside. I scowl, concerned by the lack of security in this place. What if I were a spy?

As I pass the two brutes, it strikes me that if entry were that easy, there might not have been any guard at all. I realize I’ve been cleared to walk in the royal keep ahead of time. Someone already authorized my access.

I could have come here any time, any day. As if I were welcome within these walls. As if I had every right to stroll right through the gate. As if I were part of what was left of the high court.

I’m flabbergasted, and irritated. With the guards, and with any of the lords who could have given them the order to let me through. The high queen. Her father. Her husband. Most of all, I’m annoyed at myself, because if I’d known I could have walked into Whitecroft Hall any time, without having to scramble for a justification, I might have done just that before today.

As soon as the thought enters my mind, I know I’m lying. There’s a reason I’ve avoided this place, and it has nothing to do with the ease of access.

Spotting a gaggle of imps and goblins bearing the midnight blue colors of the new high court planted along the walls, I nod in reluctant approval. There’s clearly enough security. Part of me wonders if they’d be better assigned outside of the hall, but I’m glad they’re here, guarding the most precious thing in the land.

Walking the paved corridor feels strange. The grand white keep and its arched halls has been a looming, threatening shadow for so long. I kept my back to it, pretended it didn’t exist. Pretended that the one woman I’ve ever truly desired isn’t inside, cursed to sleep her life away.

The halls are still vaguely familiar. Long ago, I studied in the chambers now converted to studies and grand meeting rooms. I’ve screwed the sons and daughters of the noblest of families in almost all of the chambers on the first and second floors to pass the time between classes. Yet, they’ve changed so much in ten years, part of me doesn’t recognize them at all.

Lavish tapestries adorn the once-bare walls; sculptures of great kings and queens of old have been carved in blocks of marble and trunks of ash. In the chambers left ajar, I glimpse more changes. Gone are the desks and bookshelves full of tales, spells, and manuals. There are elegant velvet sofas, harps, and heavy desks instead.

I imagined a temporary, hasty, makeshift travesty of a true royal keep, but my old school has morphed into an edifice worthy of the new high queen. Thus appareled, it’s easy to remember our first high queen, Nyx, had Whitecroft built herself.

The one thing that hasn’t changed since my school days is that my mind was, and now is, entirely fixated on one person within these walls.

At the gates, I’d wondered at my purpose here, but now my steps aren’t hesitant. I stride through halls and corridors, passing arches and manned terraces. I slow as I approach what used to be the professors’ dining hall, and come to a stop at its entrance.

The door is new. A carved, painted wooden piece of art, it features butterflies, beetles, and a stag painted black and red. The artful carving describes a story, a tale of sorts. I wonder if I can recognize it. I inspect each minuscule detail, as if they matter. They don’t. It just gives me something to do.

I can’t open the door. Not yet. I just need a moment to contain myself, to prepare for what I’m about to see.

My worst nightmare and sweetest dream all wrapped in one haunting vision.

There are twelve guards around me. None of them pay me any mind; I may as well be invisible. Concerns about the casual demeanor of the guards around Whitecroft spike again. Though I can’t say I care too much about the rest of the keep, this specific room ought to be protected by mistrustful, bloodthirsty knights. They should be threatening me. Demanding my purpose. Shoving me away. No one does. No one says anything at all to stop me, much to my annoyance. I would have been grateful for a deterrent.

Can I be here? Can I do this? The last time I entered this room, I broke. I lost something of myself in there. I’m not sure I’m willing to endure that again. I want to turn back, but