Page 50 of House of Gilded Nightmares

“Zyren?” I prompt after several moments.

A deep breath in and out. “I—”

Hoofbeats break Zyren’s confession, close and coming up on us fast. He yanks me to my feet and we have just enough time to pull on our clothes before five riders burst into the meadow. My heart climbs into my mouth, scanning to see if their tunics are black with a red emblem. I breathe a partial sigh of relief when I see they’re deep blue with gold embroidery. But that relief is short-lived when the riders surround us.

“Guardian!” one of the riders calls. “We’ve been searching for you for weeks!”

Zyren raises a hand in greeting. “We’ve had a long and arduous journey. We narrowly escaped the Septarus and stopped here to recover before the final stretch to Selaye. We’ll be most grateful for a ride.”

I see one of the riders dart their eyes to our boots on the ground a few feet away. I try to keep my cheeks from flaming, grateful it is night and they cannot see.

“We cooled off in the river. A moment and we can be on our way,” Zyren says, tone neutral, as if he had not a care in the world.

When we’ve pulled our boots on, Zyren helps me up behind one of the riders. Another rider offers to walk the final couple of miles to Selaye so Zyren can ride his horse.

And just like that, we gallop off to the crown city of Valaron and the fate that awaits me.

Part Three

Chapter Nineteen

After leaving the meadow, we gallop along the river until we pass the huge lake that has been my beacon the entire trip, the lake that sits below Selaye. A winding road beyond cuts up into the mountain, ascending steeply in a serpentine pattern. Trees block much of the view as we climb, so I catch only glimpses of the mountain above, or a flash of the city lights, or a panorama of the valley that is now below us.

My mind whirls and my stomach threatens to empty its contents. Now that the moment has arrived, I’m utterly terrified of what lies ahead. I don’t want to be queen. I don’t want to marry a stranger. And I certainly don’t want to be responsible for the fate of the world. But what really burns in my head like glowing coals are Zyren’s words spoken right before the riders found us.

What was he trying to tell me that’s so important?

Whatever it is, the opportunity has passed. He can’t very well tell me while galloping on switchback roads. I’d also noticed a shift in his demeanor at the appearance of the riders. Whatever the exact role of a guardian in the Court of Nightmares, he does not trust these men. There’s a formality between them all, no hint of companionship.

When, after nearly an hour, the road takes a sharp turn and Selaye is suddenly sprawled before us, I gasp at the sight of it.

It is vast, which is unsettling after traveling through the wilderness for two weeks. Having never gone beyond the walls of the Amethyst Palace, I’ve never seen a city of this size before. Nestled in a valley between the highest peaks of the mountain, all the glowing lights look like a cascade of spilled golden coins, a dragon’s treasure gleaming in the darkness. Waterfalls cascade throughout the valley, and lush gardens stretch between the buildings.

The palace rises in the distance, carved into the mountain itself. Gleaming columns of white stone, grand archways, bright lights throughout. Blue banners fly from each precipice, bearing a golden crescent moon and two arrows crossed. Even growing up as I did, the grandeur of it takes my breath away. I want to look over at Zyren, but I dare not.

The road turns from hard-packed dirt and gravel to smooth white cobblestone. It leads through the center of the valley straight for the palace on the far side. We slow the horses to a trot as we approach a huge gateway framed by two enormous blocks of white rock carved to look like crescent moons facing away from each other. Several guards are posted there. They look incredibly bored until they see me in the midst of the group, and then their eyes bulge and they shoot each other meaningful glances.

As we pass into the city, beautiful stone buildings line the road on either side of us, many with small courtyard gardens and statuary out front. Side roads spiderweb out from the main one, and I look down each, burning with curiosity, taking in everything I can. It fills me with wonder, which helps to combat the fear in my heart. The streets are quiet. It has to be close to midnight by now.

Too soon, we have passed through the city and enter the huge palace courtyard. More guards watch the gate here, which is a twin of the city boundary gate, though smaller. A tall stone wall surrounds the courtyard, restricting access to the palace. My chest tightens. Everything tightens. It reminds me far too much of the Amethyst Palace and the very small cage that was my world for most of my life.

We dismount the horses and approach the broad stone steps leading to the main entrance of the palace, a huge set of ornate wooden doors, flags flying on each side of them. The group of guards standing there all nod their heads in deference to Zyren, murmuring greetings by title only, just as the riders in the meadow had. I risk a glance over at him. How lonely he must have been all these years, his life tied up in his oath to guard me, no lover of his own, everyone treating him with a distant reverence. He does not meet my eyes when I try to catch them.

A man exits the palace dressed in fine attire, an embroidered satin shirt and a long cloak lined with velvet. He bows before Zyren and then turns his eyes to me. “I am Hebiah, the king’s advisor. The king is waiting for you both in the throne room.”

Zyren’s eyebrows raise. “At this late an hour?”

“Our scouts announced your arrival quite some time ago.” He offers a wan smile. “The king has long awaited this day, and he does not wish to wait any longer.”

I see a muscle in Zyren’s jaw twitch. “Of course,” he says. “We won’t keep him waiting.”

Hebiah leads us through the palace doors into a grand hall two stories high with a sweeping staircase on the far side. It’s so large it seems the mountain itself must be hollowed out to accommodate it. Torches lit with ice-blue flames illuminate the space. We follow the advisor up the stairs. At the first landing, we take a smaller staircase that spirals upward. It circles the hall below five times, landings at each floor before we reach the top. We come out onto a long hallway with ornate arched doorways leading into a massive throne room, which in turn has open arched windows overlooking the city below.

And there, sitting at the far end of the room on a massive throne made of black stone, is the king.

I have had two weeks to prepare myself for this moment, but none of that helps in the least now that the time has come. My palms break out in a sweat. My stomach clenches and flips simultaneously. The pulse in my neck thrums so quickly I’m afraid I’ll lose consciousness.

I don’t know how I’m going to stand before my future husband, knowing I’m in love with the man at my side.

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