My eyes widened as I stepped forward.
The courtyard was pristine.
Beautiful.
Smooth cobblestones pressed into the soles of my slippers as I stepped out of the tunnel’s door. Rivin closed them behind us, and I saw the heavy doors were inlaid with a metal that sparkled silver in the sun, making elaborate designs that reminded me of the crawling ivy that used to grow on our estate’s walls. Intricate metalwork that must’ve taken months to craft by a skilled hand.
The tunnel led out to a courtyard terrace. There was a curved stone staircase to our right, the steps smoothed from time. The staircase had beautiful carved banisters, black, spindly vines trailing up them, wrapping around the stone, blooming with vibrant indigo flowers. The whole courtyard was filled and spilling with lush plants, tumbling over weathered walls.
But my gaze was drawn back to the terrace and the magnificent view that it afforded beyond.
We were situated at the shores of a sea, judging by the salt in the air. The sunlight dappled over the calm waters, gleaming like a pile of jewels. The water stretched wide, as far as I could see. To the right, set deep into the land away from the cliffs, I spied tall mountains jutting into the clouds, taller than Mount Hara, even.
Without thinking, my feet guided me closer toward the edge of the courtyard so I could get a better look. I hadn’t seen such a breathtaking sight. Ever. We had lakes in the Collis, but some were so small they could only be considered ponds. If this truly was a sea…it would be the first I’d ever seen.
A familiar hand wrapped around my forearm, making me gasp as it tightened. When I looked up, Azur was glaring at me. He tugged and I was forced to turn away from the view, catching sight of Rivin’s speculative look.
My husband released me when we began to climb the stairs, turning his back on me. I watched him ascend, frozen at the base.
“This way to the keep, Kylaira,” came Rivin’s voice, gesturing up the staircase.
Azur stilled.
His hand clenched on the banister, crushing a withered vine from the crawling plant, and he threw an unreadable look over his shoulder at Rivin.
Then he continued on his way, his wings flaring wide as he ascended the curving staircase to an upper level of the terrace. He’d replaced his gauntlets, I noticed, and they glimmered in the sunlight almost as much as the sea. Made of the same metal that was hammered into the wooden door.
My knees were shaking as I followed, unsure of what I would find at the top. Unsure of what my life would look like after this moment.
Looking over my shoulder, I caught one last look at the sea and drew in a deep breath. The higher we climbed, the clearer the view became.
The stairs were short, but the air felt thinner on Krynn. By the time I reached the top, I was gasping, my lungs tight. Then my eyes swiveled to what Rivin had called the keep.
Now I understood what he’d meant.
A towering, beautiful, glittering fortress lay before me. A house—if it could be called that—that likely spanned the entirety of our estate in the Collis. The architecture itself was eye-catching, with strong, unforgiving beams of stone meeting graceful swooping arches of windows and sunrooms. There were two towers I could see from this angle—one at either end of the keep. Watch towers? I wondered.
I was too busy gaping up at the beauty of the house and its surroundings—bracketed by the majestic mountain range to the right and the shimmering sea at its back—that I failed to notice the line of Kylorr—close to twenty individuals—that were spilling from a massive set of doors.
Rivin nudged me forward. Azur had already reached the first of the Kylorr—an older male with a streak of white running through his auburn-colored hair—and ducked his head to speak with him.
Most of the Kylorr were males, I noticed. Out of the twenty of them, only three were females.
Keepers, I thought. Keepers of the keep. They were staff, judging from the similarity of their dress.
And they were all looking at me with undisguised interest and careful expressions.
“That is Zaale,” Rivin told me gruffly, gesturing toward the older male that Azur was speaking with in low tones. “He is the head keeper of this house. You will likely see him more than your own husband.”
I turned my head sharply to regard him. He pulled me to a stop, giving the keepers time to look at me, while Azur finished his conversation.
“Why are you doing this?” I couldn’t help but ask.
The scar that ran down his left cheek pulled when he frowned. “Doing what?”
“Helping me,” I said, my voice strong and unwavering, though inside I had never been more afraid, standing on the outskirts of this beautiful house.
“Is that what I’m doing?” Rivin asked, his voice surprisingly hard and dark. He narrowed his eyes on me, his blue gaze flashing with an unreadable expression. He chuffed out a harsh, short laugh. “I suppose I just know what it’s like.”
I didn’t understand what he’d meant by that, but before I could ask, Azur’s cold voice slid between us.
“Ludayn.”
“Yes, Kyzaire?” came one of the female keeper’s voices. An oddly small Kylorr stepped forward. Her wings were fluttering, and I couldn’t help but notice that one dragged on the ground as she walked.
The female had hair the color of the indigo blooms I’d seen below on the terrace. The color stood out against her gray skin, making the strands appear almost dirtied and dull. Her bright yellow eyes flitted with what I guessed was nerves as she waited for Azur to speak.
I’m not the only one he frightens, then, I couldn’t help but think.
“From this day forward, you will be the Kylaira’s keeper,” my new husband informed her coolly. I couldn’t help but notice the looks of disbelief that were being tossed around by the males in line or the pressing of the remaining two females’ lips. “Serve her well.”
“Y-Yes, Kyzaire,” Ludayn gasped out, her eyes going wide. “I will not fail you.”
“Take her up to her rooms,” Azur ordered.
This whole exchange happened without him turning to look at me once. And yet he captured my attention so thoroughly. I could still feel the scape of his teeth against my throat. I shivered in dread.
Take me up my rooms, Ludayn, and keep me there, I couldn’t help but plead with the small female in my mind. As my keeper, keep me away from him.
Ludayn’s gaze strayed to me, and I felt Rivin nudge me again.
“Go,” he murmured. “She will take care of you.”
Behind him, I could still see the shining waters. The sun was already setting, and I hadn’t realized it. Space was disorienting. All I knew was that I felt like I could sleep for days.
It felt like I was outside of my body as I moved forward. But Azur was already speaking with Zaale again. As I passed him, I heard, “I’m going to meet with the patrol on the northern borders. We will meet once I return tonight.”
Northern borders?
“Yes, Kyzaire,” Zaale said. “Will you need to feed once you return? I can schedule to have a giver come—”
“No,” Azur cut in. I froze when those fiery red eyes turned to me, and he could barely conceal the cold malice in his voice. “I have a wife now, after all. It is her blood that will sate me. Rivin, let’s go.”
My throat tightened. I might’ve gasped in dismay, my heart giving a thunderous boom.
With one mighty gust, his wings unfurled and propelled him into cleanly into the air, swirling dust and warm air all around me. Even though the dust stung my eyes, I couldn’t help but watch, lips parted, craning my neck back, as he launched himself into the sky and then soared like a bird high above us, dipping and weaving. His speed was unfathomable, the span of his wings even more massive that I’d original believed.