Page 44 of The Oracle's Journey

He nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips. “That’s possibly the nicest thing anyone has said about my ancestry.”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m saying them about you,” Tipping my head back, I reached for his cheek, guiding him to meet me in a tender kiss.

“Did I tell you I love you today?” he asked. When I met his gaze this time, the icy stare had been replaced with the familiar warmth I was accustomed to.

“A few times,” I answered. “I love you too.

CHAPTER 17

Emma

The Chateau de Bergellon was enormous for such a rural setting. Massive white walls and towers with black masonry accents stretched far and wide, dominating the rocky hilltop ahead of us. Slender vines with broad green leaves crept up the nearest wall and tower, their pale lavender blooms softening the otherwise stark façade of the chateau. Nicolas had described it to me many times while meeting in my dream space, and it was so much more than I expected.Grander than I’d ever imagined! My eyes welled with tears at the sight of my new home.

The town of Bergellon was coastal, but the terrain was rocky, and the road leading to the chateau had to wind around jutting boulders to maintain a gentle angle for carts and carriages. My stomach clenched into knots the entire way up what seemed to be an unending road. We didn’t look like a royal entourage—no carriage, no dowry, no trunks of fine clothes, and no knights in gleaming armor. Between my own antics and the elves’ rough handling, we looked like a band of vagabonds. If we hadn’t been on horseback, I doubted the guards would have bothered to check my credentials. They’d have just sent us away. Thank the Mother that Lhoris had secured my papers, though he’d done so for the purpose of ransom, a detail I meant to keep out of my tale to Nicolas and his uncle. At least until I could fully explain my insane manipulation of the situation and the possibility of my being set up for the kidnapping.

We crossed the drawbridge over a deep trench that likely circled all the way around the walls and greeted the guards at the portcullis. The guardsmen called for their marshal, Tibbott. He was an older, grizzled-looking knight with iron gray hair, and he was appalled by my appearance, as evidenced by his grave expression.

“I’ve had an unfortunate magical accident,” I announced sheepishly, though it truthfully covered the entire sad state of affairs in six words.

Marshal Tibbott opened the portcullis to us and sent my papers to the master of the chateau via page. We followed the marshal to the stables where we handed over our horses. Eve and Judith set about their domestic tasks. I desperately wanted Eve to stay with me, but we were in the castle now, so I had to observe propriety. Marshal Tibbott took some convincing that my elven escort was indeed serving as my personal guard, but they still had to hand over their swords for the moment. Lobikno curled his lip to sneer at the marshal, I expected nothing less, but it did not make a good first impression.

Before long, the page returned to let me know that Duke Nicolas de Rais was ready to receive me in the main hall. Every fiber of my being vibrated with nerves. How awful would it be to change into a beast at this point? Lhoris had warned me about accidental magic and intrusive thoughts, so I pushed the idea down as far as I could.

My heart pounded as we followed the page through the massive courtyard to the great hall on the other side of the castle. We passed the smithy, bath house, some vendor carts with food, and a chapel that looked to be dedicated to Genarae, the Mother and Goddess of Seasons, whose teachings dominated the northern regions. A sizable training field for the knights and soldiers lay in the middle, and gardens grew everywhere—some decorative, some edible. I looked forward to wandering through them someday soon.

The page led us through an archway and into a corridor. The bellman paused us outside the large doors of the great hall to announce my arrival.

I took a deep breath, grasped Ozanna’s hand, and gave it a hard squeeze. She squeezed back.

This was to be a formal greeting. I couldn't do a formal greeting! I frantically tried to remember my comportment lessons. They’d been wasted on that magic drunk version of myself. Then I giggled at how ridiculous it would look for a squirrel to curtsy before a throne.

I was slipping.

Beside me, Ozanna hissed something and held my hand up for others to see, though I wasn’t sure what she said.

Somebody grasped my other hand, and I found Lhoris peering down at me over his darkened glasses. Feeling anchored, I stood between my two friends. Their harmony fluttered through me, calming the frantic thoughts swirling in my head. I felt more connected to the moment, balanced, with my feet firmly beneath me on the tiled floor.

“It’ll be okay,” Ozanna said, reassuringly. “By all accounts, the man already loves you.”

I looked forward, squared my shoulders, and took a deep breath. Dropping their hands before entering the main hall, I agreed. “He does.”

Before me, Nicolas sat on the edge of his fine throne at the far end of the hall, sunlight pouring through the windows to light a path between us—the final steps of my journey. His brows were knotted, lips pressed flat, looking as nervous as I felt. That is, until our eyes met. His handsome face transformed then, lighting with that smile I’d been longing to see in reality. Overwhelmed, I sobbed, “Nicolas,” and bolted down that pathway of light towards him.

Fuck formalities.

The handful of attendants and nobility seated at long tables all along the hall murmured in shock as I ran toward my duke, barefoot. Fur and feathers gradually fell away onto the tiled floor, drifting on little eddies of air in my wake. Nicolas sprang to his feet, as though he’d been prepared to do it the moment he’d taken his seat. He only managed to straighten his cream-colored doublet and take a few steps towards me when I crashed into him. He looked me over before embracing me, and then allowed me to babble at him incoherently.

Nicolas

Chaos reigned in my hall, but I couldn’t understand why. Emmelina’s behavior should have sparked murmurs and some shuffling, not sent the court onto their feet shouting at each other. The local nobles present for that day’s meeting were elderly fellows and not prone to such passionate outbursts.

I knew Emmelina was a little wild but hadn’t anticipated this.

“Emmelina,” I said, resting my hands on her upper arms, trying to put a little space between us so I could look at her again. Tears streaked her reddened face, feathers dangled in her amber waves, and clumps of soft red fur clung to her clothes. If one could call them clothes. It looked as though she were wearing a skirt in place of an entire dress.

But she was here! Really here, in my arms and safe. Thank the Mother! “My darling Emmelina, are you okay? Do you need a healer?” She bit her lip, as if trying to restrain another sob, and shook her head.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted,” I spoke in a soothing tone, “and I am certain you have much to tell me. What do you need right now that I can give you?”

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