Page 82 of Dark Fate

Staircases curve up on either side, their railings crafted from gold and silver, twined into intricate patterns. The balustrades are entwined with flowering vines, nature, and artifice blending seamlessly.

“The King and Queen will meet with you tomorrow,” Baelen informs us as we take in our surroundings. “You must be weary from your travels; tonight, you shall rest and restore.”

I can feel Rhyland tense beside me at the mention of a royal audience. It’s a tension mirrored in my own chest, a fluttering unease.

Axilya nods her acceptance of these arrangements. Faderyn smiles in agreement while Lucian leans against a pillar with feigned nonchalance, his curious gaze betraying his interest. Erik stands like a statue, his eyes scanning every detail with precise attention.

“Each of you will be assigned personal attendants,” Baelen announces grandly.

My very own personal attendant? Slap my ass and call me a duchess. This is straight out of a Regency romance novel. The Bridgertons would absolutely shit a fancy porcelain brick over this lavish treatment.

Baelen claps his hands, and more attendants appear as if by magic. “We have prepared rooms for each of you,” he continues, motioning for us to follow.

Lucian's voice slices through the hush, blanketing the room, a blend of mock astonishment and trademark snark. "Well, call me a lucky bastard!" he exclaims, eyes widening comically. "Did I seriously just score my own pimped-out bachelor pad in this swanky joint?"

I roll my eyes, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room as they turn to stare atLucianas if he’s just floated in from the Netherworld or as if he’s sporting an extra head, their expressions ranging from shock to disapproval.

I shoot him a look that could freeze hell and silently shape the word “STOP,” hoping to caps-lock his manners into place before he gets us all thrown out on our asses.

Lucian grins, unrepentant, and I can't help but feel a surge of affection for him despite my frustration.

I'm led down a corridor lined with tapestries so lifelike I half expect them to come alive and walk off their looms, their threads shimmering with an otherworldly light.We stop before an elegant door carved from shimmering wood and inlaid with intricate designs that seem to move.

"Your quarters, my lady," says one of the attendants, who introduces herself as Alina, pushing open the door with a graceful flourish.

My room is like something out of a dream—a massive, moonlit bed dominates the space, the canopy dripping with gossamer curtains that flutter in an unseen breeze.

“You will have everything you need here,” Alina assures me as she flits about the room, lighting candles that fill the air with a sweet, heady scent. “If you desire anything else, do not hesitate to ask.”

I nod mutely, taking in the details—from the paintings on the ceiling that seem to move to the lacework on the curtains that look like it was spun from starlight.

Two other attendants stand at attention with fresh garments for me to change into and a tray laden with fruits and sweetmeats.

“You must be exhausted,” Alina observes, her voice soft and sympathetic.

“I’m fine,” I manage, though my body suggests otherwise, still throbbing from the ride.

Rhyland lingers at the threshold until another attendant offers directions to his room. He declines, his jaw tightening.

“No—I’m staying here.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

The attendant hesitates before nodding, “Of course, sir,” he replies before leaving.

Rhyland turns to me, concern etched into his features. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I confess, flopping down on the bed. It's like sinking into a cloud.

He sits beside me, taking my hand. “This place... we can’t trust it yet.” His intense blue eyes hold mine. “Don’t let it blind you to what’s important.”

“I won’t,” I promise, though part of me wonders if I can stay focused amidst such splendor.

How can something this beautiful be bad—be wrong? Maybe these people are good; they’re not a threat like their counterparts—theShadow Court.

Alina and the other attendants clear their throats, nodding toward the bathing chamber. “My lady, a bath has been drawn at your convenience, and we have arranged fresh attire.”

Rhyland's attendant has returned and waits by the door.

Rhyland acknowledges his attendant with a swift nod and then doubles back to me in just a few long strides, his movements fluid and graceful despite his size. Gently, he lifts my chin, bringing me eye to eye with the oceanic depths of his brilliant blue gaze, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

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