Page 24 of Fate & Monsters
A dormant part of me, the lingering glow of a spirit in this unwanted body, begged for a chance to survive. An internal struggle caused havoc in my chest and mind. Survival and self-preservation won.
“Fine,” I sighed.
The pointed tips of his furry ears twitched up and his tail slowed to a pleased wag. “Follow me,” he said, turning on his heel. Half-stunned, I studied the motion of his tail as we exited my room.
I forgot the nightmare entirely by the time the tour slowed to an end. An exhausting ordeal traipsing through dusty, cobwebbed corridors. This unsteady body wasn’t sturdy enough for the travels I used to undertake flying through with the wind. My thighs were burning and straining from fatigue by the time the sun kissed the horizon and dusk descended on the world.
Gradually, and with genuine effort, Mavros uncoiled from the tense visage of a tightly wound predator. Yes, he looked like a beast on the surface, but hours passed in increasingly cordial, almost friendly company. Fromtower to tower, from wing to wing, he relished me with tales of the castle in ages past and detailed the names of artists and crafters responsible for the expansive, and admittedly pointy, architecture and faded tapestries.
He uttered no verbal apology, but the extent of his explanations and the act of a personal tour conveyed an unspoken contrition. Perhaps he’d never learned how to apologize, or Inferni weren’t familiar with the concept. Either way, I was determined to learn, listen, observe, and express gratitude. A monster on the outside he may be, but he was trying.
Prince Mavros explained that the Throne Hall was off limits at night when he was holding court with the Inferni audiences. I quipped that I didn’t mind avoiding something so tedious. He frowned but continued.
The dungeons and armory held no appeal to me, and he huffed with exasperation when I failed to fake interest in his weapons collection. We skipped the crypts, though I noticed a flicker of tension in his expression as we did. He placed his hand on my lower back to hasten me along, and the heat of his palm thoroughly distracted me from any rising questions.
“This place looks familiar,” I mused aloud.
Mavros had the decency to look chastened, tail drooping to the floor as we passed a wide hall. “Yes, this will be the Dining Hall.” He adjusted his collar and shook off his regret. “Along with the ballroom.Then the kitchens will be this way—”
My stomach growled at the mention.
The corner of his mouth twitched, and a traitorous grin curved my lips.
The kitchens were grand. A large hearth bore a hearty fire. Several taller, lithe imps worked at the fire and central island chopping, slicing and working on more food than necessary. A pleasant sense of ease suffused me when Mavros offered a plate of vegetables with nary a mention of the meat piled onto his plate.
And the red liquid he poured into my glass… now that was a treat. A mildly sweet, earthy drink that made my head feel wonderfully light and fuzzy. My skin warmed, and a persistent grin marked my face by my second glass.
“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Mavros grumbled, snatching the empty glass from my fingers.
“No, one more!” My petulant wail should have embarrassed me, but my inhibitions were low. I wanted to clamber across the island and snatch the bottle.
A deep throaty laugh reverberated through his chest. I paused, looking at Mavros with eyes as large as our empty plates. It was a captivating sound, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The way the hearth-fire played on the curve of his horns and brightened the darkness of his fur. I wondered how sharp his tusks were jutting up against his top lip as they were…
“We should continue the tour,” his voice shattered the gratifying cloud wrapped around us. His eyes flicked up from my mouth, and I met his stare.
My breath hitched, but I nodded.
“Down this way there is a music room, though it’s been untouched for ages. The tower at the top of this wing holds the observatory. Plenty of tools for stargazing, but preferably at night,” he explained. I had no idea what an observatory was, or a solarium, when he pointed that room out next. It looked like one of the many sitting rooms, only with walls of glass. “You can see the stars on clear nights, but this room is lovely during the day. The light is warm, and the view is enjoyable.”
Wistfulness in his tone struck me. He noted my silence and looked down. There were memories hiding behind his eyes, and though we had avoided personal topics and conversations, I found myself increasingly wondering about him as the night progressed. Who was this beast, this Prince of Infernus?
And while I was interested in the places he showed me, I committed to nothing. A wall of impassivity remained firmly between me and each revelation. Curiosity did not give way to importance. Between the smog of the red drink pervading my mind and the mounting fatigue in my body, my thoughts drifted from the topic at hand.
“And here,” Mavros halted with a flourish. Mytraveling thoughts snapped into the present. “We have the library.”
“A library?” My words seemed slurred. I cleared my throat.
“A home for books.” He shoved the wide double doors and entered a cavernous darkness. I hesitated behind him, holding my breath until dozens of small lights snapped to life. A warm, golden glow swept through the space, lighting up the room with a gentle whoosh.
“Oh,” breached me.
A vast room with ceilings that stretched seemingly forever. So high and far-reaching that shadows pervaded every nook. Towering bookshelves created walls, forming a maze of polished wood and leather-bound tomes. The arched ceilings depicted stained-glass murals muted by centuries of dust. Heavy velvet drapes hung on the lofty windows, obscuring the silver light outside.
“I must admit, I saved this room for last,” Mavros said, lingering behind me.
As if tugged by an outside force, I entered the library. The spines were soft under my fingertips, worn by age and use. The perfume of parchment and leather permeated the air. I trailed my hands over shelves bearing an astounding array of books, maps, scrolls, and random trinkets.
“Why is that?” I stopped my perusal at the base of a spiral staircase leading to a mezzanine level, squeezing the wrought iron and feeling the ornate carvings.
