closed in, one next to her and three behind. She could practically feel their stares stabbing her back.
Go ahead. Get an eyeful.
The afternoon sun warmed Maud’s skin. She guessed the temperature was somewhere in the mid-eighties, and the breeze was downright pleasant. She had a childish urge to climb onto one of the textured protrusions of the parapets, strip off her armor, and sunbathe for a couple of hours.
Ruin kept spitting out questions, periodically pausing for Arland to bark an answer.
“Third Regiment requests permission to enter negotiations with the architectural guilds to update their Chapel Hall.”
“Granted.”
“Second and third companies of Fourth Regiment request permission to settle an inter-unit dispute via champion combat.”
“Denied. We don’t parade our rivalries in front of wedding guests from other Houses. I want the full write-up of this dispute on my tablet within the hour.”
“Knight Derit requests transfer out of Second Regiment.”
“On what grounds?”
“Irreconcilable differences with his commanding knight.”
“Inform Knight Derit that I declined his request and that he has misconstrued the nature of his relationship with Commander Karat. They aren’t married. It’s not a partnership of equals. Commander Karat says, ‘Do this,’ and Knight Derit does it, because that’s what knights do. It’s not a complicated arrangement, and if he has further difficulty understanding it, he needs to hang up his blood mace and look for a different profession more in line with his delicate nature. Perhaps flower arrangement would suit.”
Maud hid a smile.
The carved doors swung open at their approach. They walked through them and into the shadowy hall. The air here was cooler. Tall windows spilled narrow blades of light into the hall, drawing golden rectangles on the stone floor. Shadow, light, shadow, light…It reminded her of the north wing of Castle Ervan. The last few weeks before their exile, she’d walked that hall expecting a dagger in her back at any moment.
The male retainer next to her gave her a startled look.
Maud realized she’d switched her gait. She was gliding now, silent like a wraith, each step light and smooth. Next to her Helen desperately tried to imitate her, but her legs were too short, and she ended up gliding two steps and skipping forward on the third.
The hall ended, splitting into a Y-intersection of two hallways.
Arland raised his hand. “Enough.”
The auburn-haired knight clamped his mouth shut, biting a word in half.
“Dismissed.”
The four retainers and Ruin did a 180 and hurried back the way they came.
Arland invited her to proceed down the right hallway with a wave of his hand. “My lady.”
“My lord.”
She turned right, and they walked side by side to a door at the end of the hallway. It slid aside at their approach.
“Your quarters,” Arland said.
Maud glanced inside and froze. A spacious bedroom suite stretched before her. A big arched window in the opposite wall betrayed the true thickness of the walls, a full three feet of solid stone. Delicate glass ornaments, so fragile they looked like they would shatter at the first sign of a breeze, hung from the walls, glowing with gentle light.
On the far left, an enormous bed waited, big enough to lay four vampire adults comfortably, and equipped with an artfully arranged pile of pillows and a soft red comforter. Its legs were carved into tree roots, its headboard was a tree trunk, and the tree’s carved branches provided the canopy. A rug spanned the length of the floor, painstakingly depicting an image of a female vampire knight fighting a murr, a massive crocodile-like reptile, in a dozen shades of red, burgundy, and white. Beyond the bed, a door stood wide open, showing her a glimpse of the bathroom with a colossal stone tub. Next to it another door, heavy and plain, waited for someone to open it.
On her right, a fire was laid out but not lit in a fireplace that was tall enough for her to walk into it. A collection of chairs was arranged before it, around a low table. A large banner of House Krahr stirred in the breeze, dripping from the wall next to the window, so if someone sat in the largest chair, the banner would serve as the backdrop. Maud squinted at the chair. A small crest was carved in its back, two stylized fangs.
It was a beautiful room, elegant in its simplicity, and timeless, every line and every angle a perfect blend of function and aesthetics. She couldn’t have made a better room for herself back at Dina’s inn, if she tried for a week.
“No.”
“Are the quarters