The Shadows of the Four Realms [BOOK TWO]

CHAPTER 7 - Of a Graveyard

Author's note:

1)The image above is of the portal.

2) Castellan means - one who governs a castle or a palace, like a warden

3) Regent king means - a substitute king

***

Nova woke up, naturally this time. Stretching his hands over his head, he looked at the ceiling and let out a long silent sigh which turned into a yawn. He had dreamt, dreamt the usual but there was no sweating, no crushing feeling of being in a place where he didn't belong... this was home and Althea was an angel.

But being a Conqueror, he was expected to be at home anywhere and everywhere. Any Realm. How was he supposed to do that?

Perhaps, one Realm at a time.

Footsteps rang somewhere and he jolted straight up in his bed like an arrow nocked in the face of a heated skirmish. Voices echoed from outside the closed ornate door of his white-washed chambers-

"But Mistress, why do we have to clean His Majesty's chambers every day when he is peacefully residing in his Autumn court?"

Nova put a fist over his mouth, afraid they'd hear him breathing. People would pass out with strokes if they saw him here in his bed, meanwhile absent from the Virgo palace of the Autumn Realm. Well, shit.

The Mistress, clearly the one in charge of the cleaning duties, answered, "You foolish girl, that does not mean we don't keep things clean. The Throne has blessed us all. Just go and load the fireplace with fresh firewood. And the pianoforte... not a speck on it."

Nova had no word for the feeling that coursed through his chest at her words and he recalled her name. The old Mistress Bernice was ever the fussy one when it came to sanitation and her twin, Mistress Denise the head-cook was her opposite for she always handed him bites of all the desserts; all he had to do was be a kid-which he sadly wasn't now-tiptoe to the kitchen and mischievously grin at her.

Nova realized the door was about to open anytime. Hastily, he rose and let his element spill out from his fingertips. A vagrant gust of soundless wind pushed itself on the door, latching the crossbar tighter.

"Um, Ronald, is that you inside?" The girlish voice seemed to hiss, as she banged her fists on the door, "I warned you not to tamper with His Majesty's stash of weapons. Get out before Mistress Bernice catches you. Won't save your sorry arse again."

Nova swirled to see the wall opposite to his bed where the weapons he had won as rewards in the practice duels growing up, were mounted in a design. Swords and daggers, some crooked, some needle-thin, some heavier than a mammoth's tusk, some sharper than the High Councilor's tongue, some just embellished trinkets. A light-weight larger-than-life crossbow, Summer Realm's gift; a long lance, a Winter Realm's medallion; handful of two-bladed battle-axes, Autumn Realm's courtesy. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

He shouldn't have been so ambitious, shouldn't have been so outgoing, should've just been average, for that had led his brother to envy him with all the life in him. Nova ran a finger along a crossbow, swallowing hard at his dry throat.

"Ronald! I swear-"

"I won't tamper," Nova called out, surprising himself, his voice echoing off the closed walls. "Promise. Just... cleaning."

After a beat, the girl seemed to huff out a breath and mutter something extremely foul, making Nova put a fist on his mouth stopping his astonished gasp. When her footsteps receded, he allowed himself to let out a laugh. So, now he was Ronald. And Ronald felt absolutely at home.