And therefore, as cool as a castle would likely be, I had to admit I was sad that our adventure was ending.
I noticed the sun was setting as I twisted in the saddle holding Aggie carefully. Dusk was settling. Soon it would be night.
Then I sat forward, lifted my eyes and stopped breathing.
Oh.
My.
God.
I stared.
It was… it was… indescribable.
It wasn’t just a castle. It was a castle and a city. An actual city.
I hadn’t seen one of those in this world and let me tell you, it was a-freaking-mazing.
The city started at the bottom of a steep, huge hill. Even at our distance (we were still quite far away), I could see flowers burgeoning everywhere. If my eyes didn’t deceive me, even some of the roofs had flowerpots.
But there were also colorful awnings on the front of some buildings, some solid, some in stripes, all in different colors. They decorated in lanterns too, also all different colors, dripping from the eaves and it looked like on the sides of buildings and even on the streets. They also fully utilized black wrought iron, there were iron whimsies shooting in the air, curlicues decorating the sides of buildings.
Magnificent.
A winding, blond, wide, clean cobblestone road led up the steep hill that was covered in what looked like adobe, terracotta tile-roofed buildings with their flowers, awnings, lanterns and iron whimsies. The road, too, was set with flowers liberally and lit with tall, curlicued, black iron street lamps.
And at the top of the hill was the best of it all.
A huge castle shooting straight in the air made of a mellow cream stone with an abundance of arched windows that blinked in the waning sun, high turrets piercing the sky with colorful pennants flying, balconies here, there and everywhere dripping with flowers through their contrasting ivory-stoned balustrades – the entire building made of smooth, rounded edges and circles.
To the left, there was emerald green sea (yes, emerald green) and I could see islands close and far and ships (also lit with lanterns) bobbing. To the right, fields of forests and rolling hills. Beyond, the landscape was a patchwork quilt of different crops. And to the front, a sea of wildflowers, ablaze with color even in the diminishing light.
Totally something out of an animated movie.
We had nothing like that at home.
It was unbelievable.
“My God,” I whispered as Salem clattered over a bowed, wooden bridge that spanned a wide, rushing, crystal clear river.
“Welcome to Bellebryn,” Tor muttered behind me.
“What?” I asked distractedly, still dazzled by the view.
“We just crossed the bridge into Bellebryn, my land,” he explained.
I blinked and even though I didn’t want to tear my eyes away from the sights they beheld, I twisted to look up at him.
“You own all of this?”
Tor looked down at me. “No, I own the castle. But I rule it all.”
I blinked again.
“Rule it?”
“It’s mine, not part of my father’s kingdom. Everything from the river to the sea to the forest is ruled by me.”
Holy crap!
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes,” he grinned, “really.”
“So, your Dad gave it to you at birth or something?”
He shook his head. “No, Cora, I conquered it.”
I blinked yet again then whispered, “What?”
“I conquered it.”
“You conquered it?” I breathed.
“Yes, love.”
Holy crap!
I turned to face front and I could see why he would want to. It was amazing. But I didn’t get it. Why would he do that? Was he the marauding kind of warrior?
I didn’t know if that was good.
“I don’t get it,” I told him.
“Get what?”
“Why, when you stand to inherit a kingdom, would you conquer this land?”
“This isn’t the only land I conquered and all of it was my land, my birthright, wrested from me, or, more aptly, my father. I just took it back.”
I twisted again to look at him.
“What?”
His arm about me gave me a squeeze and he explained, “Remember what I told you about Dash not being a soldier or warrior?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“My father isn’t a soldier or warrior either.”
Whoa.
Tor went on, “He’s a good man. A kind man. A benevolent king, fair and generous. His people love him. But even though he has great skills in some ways as a leader, in others, he does not. Furthermore, he had the misfortune of finding, falling in love with and wedding women who were, by all accounts, lovely but who had weak constitutions. My mother died while having me.” Oh dear. “Dash’s mother died from flu six months after he was born.” Oh shit. “And Orlando’s mother never fully recovered from his birth and died two years after in her sleep.” God, that sucked. “My Father loved them all and became more and more heartsick with each loss. He was raising three sons alone and although he is king, he fully participated in our upbringing and therefore his mind was on other things. The ruler of the neighboring kingdom to our north coveted areas of ours and with my father’s heart not in it, this king was able to conquer vast tracks of my father’s, and thus my, realm. My father did what he could in his state to fight but did not succeed in keeping his kingdom safe.”
All righty then. Maybe everything about this world wasn’t hunky dory.
Tor kept talking. “King Baldur of the north is not a benevolent king. He is not fair or generous. He is greedy and ruthless. His taxes are high. His tactics are cruel. Therefore, our people, as ruled by him, were suffering. So, when I came of age and finished my training, I felt that not only was it my responsibility to re-secure the land that was my birthright, it was my responsibility to safeguard those living on that land who were still my people. Therefore, I petitioned my father to allow me to build a personal army of warriors to do these things. He agreed, I chose my men, trained them and then we advanced.”
His eyes went over my head as I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was saying and as he gazed at his personal princedom, he continued.
“It took five years and too many lives, but we did it.”
Five years!
Tor looked down at me and continued, “And now my people are thriving and safe. As this was the most beautiful of all the territory we secured, I petitioned my father, as a gesture of gratitude to my men, to confer Bellebryn onto me. All my men and their families live here. It is not just mine, it is ours, the sun, the sea, the forest, the town bustling with trade, a kind of tranquility after years of war, a gift for their sacrifice.”
I stared up into his beautiful, scarred facing thinking of the other scars on his chest and back, the way he wielded a sword, how armed his cave was and his recent words.
Oh Lordy. I was thinking that Prince Noctorno Hawthorne was not just not so bad but that he might be pretty freaking amazing.
And I was thinking after all my time with him, all I knew, all I continued to learn, that I was sinking into some pretty deep trouble.
I turned to face forward again and even though my heart was beating hard in my chest and I was finding it difficult to breathe, I felt something should be said.
So I said something.
“It’s beautiful, Tor. Every inch of it. In all the beauty I’ve seen since I’ve been here, this is by far the most beautiful. And I’m glad you have it after what you and your men endured. I hope it brings you peace, being home.”
He stilled behind me but after a second, his arm slid up to my ribs and tightened and I felt his lips touch my neck in a soft kiss.
Then, in my ear, he murmured, “It does, indeed, bring me peace to be home.”