Page 36 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

My enemy.

He stands in the way of my duty. And I still don’t know his true intentions. He could very well be deceiving me, attempting to earn my trust, to then betray me in the end.

That show of vulnerability in the woods was a mistake.

Besides, it doesn’t change anything. My duty lies in Illnamoor.

“If I’d known you’d be so displeased, I would have been more careful not to wake you,” Asheros jokes, his tone light. His words pull me from my thoughts. “Perhaps I’ll take it upon myself to smooth out this portion of the road.”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes.

Asheros laughs, the sound rich and full. It’s like the sweetest of berries, the kind that melts the moment you place it on your tongue. Refusing to obey, my mouth curves into a small smile.

“Well, it seems you’ve chosen the perfect time to wake,” he says, amused.

That instantly piques my curiosity. “How so?”

“We’ve just about arrived at our destination.”

“And where is that, exactly?”

The amusement doesn’t fade from his voice. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

“So you’ve said, every time I’ve asked.” I cross my arms, turning my face halfway to his so I can see him out of the corner of my eye. “I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.”

Asheros’s lips part into that sinful smirk. “Do you doubt me, Bladesinger?”

I fight the grin tugging at my mouth. “You haven’t given me much faith.”

He places a palm to his chest, feigning pain. “My heart bleeds.”

“Perhaps I’d believe you without all the dramatics,” I say, waving a hand.

Asheros laughs again, and damn him, I laugh, too.

We break through the last of the tree line and approach a manor house. It’s not nearly as grand as the manor I grew up in, the home of the Head of House, but it’s stately all the same. Constructed of precisely cut stone bricks, the building has a perfectly symmetrical angled roof made from similarly colored stone tiles. They glint a reflective gray-blue in the light of the setting sun—meaning there’s steel mixed into the material.

While the manor itself is evidence enough that whoever lives here is wealthy, the steel-infused roof tiles make it obvious. The more metal one has in their possession, the wealthier. To have metal as part of something immovable, like a home, says much, if not more about a family’s status.

As we near the manor, I make out more details. Finely trimmed shrubs line a cobblestone pathway that leads to the entrance. Thick ivy climbs the manor’s stone walls, reaching all the way up to the roof. At the center of the façade sits a small set of steps that open to a heavy, well-crafted wooden door. Even stripped of its bark, I can tell the wood is native to the area, most likely harvested from the very forest we’ve traveled through. Those same tall trees form a protective barrier around the backside of the manor though there’s not much before it gives way to a much larger clearing.

There must be a town nearby—perhaps Ethelwyn.

Once we get closer, Asheros tugs the reins, and the horse slows to a stop. He dismounts and offers a hand to me, but I don’t take it. Swinging my leg over the horse’s back, I hop off. My feet touch the ground, landing in the soft grass.

Asheros doesn’t comment on my refusal to accept his gesture. Instead, he turns to the others, who, like us, have dismounted their horses. Taking our mount’s reins, he walks the animal over to Orim. They nod to each other. Asheros must pass on a wordless command, because Orim and Ronan lead the horses behind the manor.

“Come,” Asheros says to me, motioning his head toward the wooden door.

Taking a breath, I do. I walk slowly, though, and do my best to take in my surroundings should I need to describe them at a later time. Savell, Gryska, and Kheldryn follow at my heels, arranged around me like a semi-circle.

I let out a breathless laugh. They seem more concerned about me trying to run than Asheros. Granted, I would be, too, if I was in their position.

At the top of the small set of steps, Asheros pulls open the wooden door and waits for me to enter. Once the others pass the threshold, Asheros lets the door close behind him. I wander deeper inside, surveying the space.

We’re in a foyer. Flanked by two doorways on either side, a staircase leads upward to the next floor. The door to my left is closed, but the one to my right is open. When I step into that room, my face is warmed by the heat of a fire burning in the hearth. There are two large armchairs on either side of the fireplace adorned with light-blue cushions that seem to be made from a plush material. There are end tables by each one made from the same wood as the door. Matching bookcases line the far walls. Where I’d expect to see dust between volumes, I find carefully tended shelves. Two shiny, golden paperweights sit atop the books, evenly spaced apart, gleaming in the low light.

My mouth perks up when I see them. The paperweights must be made of gohlrunn—a weighted gold alloy used for crafting expensive items that hails from Cryssa’s home Court, Gold.

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