Page 17 of House of Gilded Nightmares

Zyren turns and shoots me a stern look. “It is your fate, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m getting quite tired of everyone telling me that,” I retort, returning his look with one equally as dark.

The hours pass, and for the most part, I speak very little to Zyren and he to me. Last night my plan to sneak away when he was asleep had been foiled by the raging of the monsters across the river, keeping us awake all night. But now that we’re nearing a town, this will prove an even better opportunity. I need better clothes, and boots, and food. If I’m lucky, I’ll find someone in town who will take pity on me and help me escape. Even if not, once we get the supplies we need and horses, I’ll have a better chance of getting away from Zyren. I may have lived a sheltered life at the Amethyst Palace, but I’d been taught how to ride a horse at least.

At times the path becomes too rocky for me to traverse with bare feet, and Zyren has to carry me over stretches of ground. I loathe everything about it, from the helplessness I feel to the strength of his arms, reminding me how very hard it’s going to be to get away from such a seasoned warrior. I hate how when he holds me, his breath tickles my face, and the leather-salt scent of him wraps around me.

I quickly become hungry again, but the deeper within the mountains we travel, the fewer trees and bushes there are. Nothing appears to be edible along the path, and there isn’t any water, either. Finally, after what seems an eternity, we come out of a narrow pass onto a plateau overlooking a verdant valley. In the center, a couple miles farther, lies a small town made of gray stone buildings. A sparkling river passes alongside it. I’ve never been so happy to see a cluster of buildings in my life.

As we pick our way down the path to the valley floor, my thoughts wander back to Eldare. Is Valaron similar to my own home? With an unsettling flip of the stomach, I realize that I don’t really know. Since the priestesses had been confined to the palace grounds, I’d never visited any of the cities or towns in Eldare. A wave of sadness moves through me, a homesickness for a place I’d never really known.

Regardless, I’m certainly surprised at the beauty of a place called the Realm of Nightmares. It seems the only nightmarish part was on the other side of the river, the misty, rock-strewn place we’d first arrived. If this place is home to nightmares, why are they trapped behind a barrier of magic? Not that I want them roaming freely, but it seems odd.

“What exactly is the purpose of the Realm of Nightmares?” I ask Zyren.

We’ve just reached the valley floor, the rocky path giving way to a vast stretch of wildflowers. Winged creatures zip about, which I think at first are butterflies. But when one lands on Zyren’s shoulder, I see it’s not a butterfly at all. It’s a tiny person with sharp teeth and black wings trailing golden dust. I raise my hand in warning as the thing lunges for his earlobe, but he lifts his hand casually and flicks the thing off into the flowers.

“What is the purpose of any realm?” he responds with a shrug and a scowl. “What a strange question.” He turns and continues walking, cutting a path through the tall grass and flower stalks.

I follow him. The meadow feels like velvet against my tired and abrased feet. “I mean, is this the place where all nightmares come from? Why do nightmares even exist?”

A deep sigh, such that his massive shoulders rise and fall. “Nightmares come from the mind of the dreamer. But then they come to live here.”

A pause, but this time it seems contemplative, not as if he’s ignoring me.

“The psyche is a powerful thing. It creates both good things and very, very bad things. Most people would go insane if they had to keep their nightmares trapped inside their heads. So, all that darkness and fear and trauma expressed when one falls asleep comes here.”

“And that’s why you keep them beyond the river. So the nightmares don’t overrun the rest of the realm.”

Zyren nods. “Nightmares are not inherently evil. But they can be…unruly.”

I shiver, thinking of the howling that had awoken me the night before. We walk the rest of the way to the village in silence, each in our own thoughts.

When we reach the outskirts of Yiltsa, marked by a building blackened from flame and partially collapsed, Zyren stops and turns again.

“It’s very important that no one knows who you are and where you came from. Stay by me, and do not speak.” His brow is furrowed, those silver eyes burning into mine.

“Why exactly is that?”

He steps closer to me, irritation roiling off of him. “If you must know, there are many who would wish to harm you or claim you for their own.”

Instead of backing away from him, which he no doubt expects, I step even closer. I’m not going to let him think he can intimidate me. “Perhaps if you would be more forthcoming with information, I wouldn’t have to ask these questions you find so vexing.”

“You seem, princess, to be under the delusion that you have any say-so in these matters,” Zyren responds through clenched teeth.

“Quite impressive the way you treat your future queen,” I snarl.

A muscle in the side of Zyren’s neck thumps. “I am your blood guardian. Our relationship does not follow traditional protocols. I do not obey you. You obey me, so I can keep you safe.”

“I will not.”

“You will unless you want someone—or something—far less charming than I am to spirit you away.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “But you said it yourself—the monsters can’t cross the river until the lunar eclipse.”

“Not all monsters wear their darkness on the outside,” Zyren says, his voice lowering several octaves. “You would do well to remember that.”

Something in his eyes is so serious, so truly concerned, that I can’t help it. A shiver runs over me. Zyren seems to take this as a sign of acquiescence.

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