Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 8.2 - Leavi

Dedicated to Rowan for being
Of Caverns and Casters's first online supporter <3

The doors before me are as large as the entire face of a building. The wood is so black as to almost be blue, and silver filigree swirls up the midnight mass like shooting stars frozen across a night sky. Their beauty is both breathtaking and intimidating.

The guards stop. Standing tall in front of the doors are two women with blue cloaks. The one on the left regards me. "Is this the prisoner the Princesse summoned?"

One of the men gives a curt nod. From inside their cloaks, the women each produce a pinch of green powder. Tossing it at the doors, they call, "Et væ!"

The wooden behemoths gently swing open, and the guards march me through.

My breath catches. Compared to this room, that door was nothing but the carving of a primitive. The silver marble floors shine with the white light of ten crystal chandeliers. Faint magical voices whisper in the air above.

At my feet, a deep blue rug runs from the doorway and through the open end of a U-shaped table. Like the door, silver-threading runs through its dark wood, and beyond it rises a dais with a massive, twisting tree carved of silver. The branches drip with dainty leaves, reaching up to the domed ceiling. As my awed eyes drink in the scene, they catch on the tree's inset seat—it's an elaborate silver throne. Two smaller thrones sit lower on the dias, their backs swirling into the shoulders, head, and antlers of the staglike creature from the forest. To my left and right lie tiers of empty but opulent seating, and far above, a glassed-in ring forms a viewing gallery. I feel like a tiny doll in some crystal display case.

A voice as crystalline as the room breaks through my transfixed state. "Leave us."

My eyes stop roving the vast space to fix on a woman standing on the dais. She's at least a foot taller than me, willowy and graceful. Her ash blonde hair lies on her head in intricate braids topped by a silver circlet. The chandelier's glowing gems shimmer over her layered sapphire and midnight dress as though she wears flowing water.

The guards glance at each other, but the woman stares at them unwaveringly. They release me, drop to one knee, and leave. My eyes fix on her face, struggling to place her amid the overload of details. I've seen her somewhere before. I know I have.

Frustrated, I glance at her two companions. One is a boy with hard features and the same metal shirt as the guards. A silver circlet rests on his brow. On the woman's other side, though...

The doors boom shut.

Aster. He's here, dressed not in his black, travel-worn cloak but in a dark blue one. A bronze circlet lies over carefully combed hair that I'm far more used to seeing mussed. Silver-threaded finery has replaced his sturdy traveling clothes. His eyes meet mine, but there's no hint of surprise or even recognition. His gaze is cool and level, as though I'm a complete stranger.