Page 56 of Stolen
She walks to an elegant armoire that blooms open like a flower when she touches it.
Inside are lotions, oils, perfumes, ribbons, and even brushes made from bristles that shimmer like spun starlight.
“Are these for me?” I ask, my voice soft.
“Yes, Lady Jules. The Eyrie recognizes you now as Lord Alaric’sviyellaand will attend your needs and desires.”
“Wow, this place is incredible,” I whisper, my mind full of wonder.
She bows slightly, eyes suddenly more serious. “Magic lives in everything here. And you may find that it responds to you more than most, but I beg you, be careful, my lady. Not everything is as it seems in Nightfall.”
I swallow and nod.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the sheet.
What did she say before her warning? The Eyrierecognizesme?
The idea of this ancient place having a cognition is frightening and wondrous. I make a mental note to ask Alaric about it.
“Take your time,” Shade says, heading back toward the doorway. “When you are ready, you’ll find your gown waiting by the mirror and a tray with some pastries and tea.”
“Oh, where will I find Alaric?”
“Do not worry, I will take you to him when you are ready.”
And just like that, she disappears, the doorway sealing behind her with a gentleclickthat isn’t mechanical—it’ssentientsomehow.
Like maybe the castle really is watching. Listening.
Maybe even welcoming me.
I turn back to the tub, the water glittering like moonlight melted into silk.
My heart thuds, loud in the quiet. But not afraid. Just awake.
I step forward, let the sheet fall, and descend into the warmth.
As I sink beneath the surface, something inside me unfurls.
It feels pleasant and alarmingly content.
Everyone I’ve met,Alaric, Shade,and everything I’ve seen so far,mainly the Eyrie, makes me feel like Nightfall is special.
Like I’m destined to be here.
Like it might be the home I’ve always yearned for.
And maybe, just maybe, I really do belong here.
Chapter12
Alaric
The Eyrie—Rooftop
I feel like a green-as-grass boy waiting to see his first crush round the bend of a sunlit trail. It’s absurd. I’ve faced down armies, ruled tempests, and outmaneuvered kings and monsters alike—but this?
This anticipation, this fluttering madness just beneath my ribs?
