and work up my courage, opening my mouth. But I don’t get a word in.
“Now come this way, please.” She has to grit out the word “please,” as if my offer was that shocking, or troublesome to her.
Only a sigh escapes my lips. I can’t fight any of this. Focusing too much on that will overwhelm me with everything that’s been taken from me. The best thing I can do, for now, is try and survive.
I can’t pass judgment on this life until I try and live it. Hopefully it will surprise me. And, if it doesn’t…I just have to remember that my presence here has put an end to the Weakness in Capton and has ensured another one hundred years of peace.
The castle is more of a fortress that’s been built directly out of the mountainside, and I wonder what it’s meant to keep out. Cut through the fortress’s center is a single pathway of stone, two portcullises on either end. The cobblestone road has been smoothed with time; deep ruts from carts span the length of the path.
This is the only entrance in and out of the city, I realize. If the city is to be taken, the castle must be taken first.
A third portcullis is between the two entrances of this long tunnel. Behind it is a small underground courtyard lit by torches mounted on soot-stained walls. They illuminate two heavy doors.
“What’s that way?” I point to the far end of the tunnel.
“None of your concern.” The woman stops, hand on her sword. “We’re going this way.” She motions to the doors.
“Is it beyond the city?” I ask anyway.
“Yes. Which is none of your concern. Now come.”
Her soldiers must’ve heard an unspoken command to them; the legion now surrounds us in a semi-circle as if they’re guarding from invisible attackers.
Left with no other option, I follow her up to what must be the castle’s entrance. The guard’s eyes flash a bright blue at the doors and then she turns to me. “These doors are magicked shut. It’ll do you little good to try and flee.”
“Why do you think I’ll have reason to flee?” I ask, as if the thought hadn’t already crossed my mind…more than once.
“Hopefully you won’t.” That answer isn’t exactly promising. She pushes on the doors and they open up to a landing at the foot of a long stairwell.
“What is your name?” I ask.
She seems to debate telling me. Perhaps forcing Eldas to admit his name is what forces her to concede. “Rinni.”
“Are you a general of some kind?”
“Are you always this incessant with questions?” Her words are sharper than my pruning shears.
“Maybe.” I shrug. Then repeat, “So, you lead the soldiers?”
“At times,” she says finally. “I am considered King Eldas’s second by many.” I could almost see her weighing her options and what it would mean for her not to answer my inquiries. It makes me wonder how much sway I have here.
I may be a human in the city of elves, but I am their queen. I have magic that the Elf King himself and a legion of his elves came to Capton to get. I glance at the ring on my left hand. It weighs a thousand stones.
At the top of the stairs is a room with soaring ceilings weighted down by heavy iron chandeliers. Candles drip stalactites of wax toward the dark wooden floor we now stand on. Two more stairways, one on either side of the room, arch up to a landing and then out to a mezzanine balcony that circles the hall.
Between the stairs is a wall of leaded glass. Intricate designs have been painstakingly woven between the thousands of tiny shards. They cast a lacy pattern on the floor. It’s the only thing that’s soft, or bright, in this cold, drab place.
“Come, your chambers are in the west wing.” She walks up the left stairs and I follow her up to the balcony.
“Is it always so quiet?” I whisper so I don’t have to hear my voice echoing in this cavernous, empty space.
“Yes.”
“What about people who care for the castle?”
“There are some servants.” She doesn’t look at me when she answers.
“Where?”
“Just because you do not see them, doesn’t mean they’re not here. It’s improper for common folk to see the Human Queen before her coronation. So the staff here is kept extremely small and out of sight.”
“I’m sorry for the extra work they must have to do by being short-handed.” Though, they do have their wild magic,