Chapter Forty: A Kiss on a Balcony

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'Do you understand what a risk you just--'

As soon as the door behind us was shut, locking out the memories of that dark room and the devils inside, Morwena spoke. I let her curse and complain as I led away from the house, back towards the palace. My skirts were light and netted, floating in the night's breeze. By my estimation, we had less than ten minutes to make it to the palace before sundown, and the doors would be shut until sunrise.

Ten minutes to make a journey that should take twice the time. No problem. I quickened my pace, hearing Sakura's footsteps increasing in speed too. Morwena, catching on that there would be no discussion about me selling my soul, ran faster, setting the fastest pace of all of us.

Back through the alleys we went, across emptied lawns and the few stragglers leaving to go to the party. Luckily, the streets were empty enough as we dove up the central street, lit by lamplight on either side. At the end of the street, a great set of steps embraced the road, and we began to climb.

After around fifty steps, the palace's plaza lay before us, and hundreds of horses, carriages and footmen stood around. We continued our dash, having several smirking glances passed our way but silenced when we got nearer. Heads turned, conversations muted.

I bit my lip. Not good. Did we stand out?

I smoothed my hair, wondering if it had frizzed out of place, but it appeared fine. My hands felt the rock of jewel incorporated into my hair, noticing the warm I felt from it. The Opal was still with me, and it was a comforting thought.

Running on, sweat began to bead along my back and forehead and between my breasts, and I cursed my lack of ingenuity in getting us an appropriate lift to the palace. What was another child, really? I quelled the dark thought, feeling sick with myself.

Another flight of steps after the circular plaza. This was a bridge over the immense water, a circular moat around the palace's circumference. Like in the Sapphire City, when I glanced below as I jogged by, a thousand lights shimmered far at the bottom of the water, the underwater city having its own celebrations separate to the palace's.

I frowned. It struck me as odd that the two nations did not celebrate together. I made a mental note to ask Scarlett or Fabian, if and when I saw them again.

I will, I promised, but feeling the creeping sensation that I was lying to myself.

We reached the top of the steps. A gasp broke from my lips-- I hadn't seen the palace in full view before, and would not forget the sight soon.

A hundred turrets seemed to burst from the crystal roof of the beautiful, silver building. Like an old cathedral, a large stained glass window adorned the front of the main building, along with open gates surrounded by guards. My breath vanished; I was here. The King, the person I'd been told to fear, was in this very building.

I had expected darkness and chains and perhaps a few gargoyles, but to no avail. The palace looked everything like a fairy castle in the mummer's plays that had been put on in the village. The tallest tower, in the middle, was made of what could only be diamond-- a substance I'd heard about hundreds of times, but never seen.

Diamond was far more exquisite than any of its stories had told. The tower was pentagonal, with smooth walls of sheer rock that seemed both literally and figuratively above the marble building below it.

The marble itself was a bridal white, but with flecks of silver vein running through it, giving the building an image of sunlight dancing off a water's surface. Refraction of the sun's light ensured that the whole building was still lit up, even when the sun was a mere splodge of burning red on the horizon.

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