Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(2)
Or rather, Prince Zayne Godfrey of Edana.
“Be patient, my child. We shall find her soon enough. Then may you resume your dances among the wildflowers.”
He offered her one last smile, then strode from the room, leaving Addie alone once more. But alone wasn’t how she wanted to be right now, not while fretting about possible dangers lying in wait beyond the castle walls.
If Zayne was here, she wouldn’t be worried about a thing—having a fiancé who could transform into a giant golden dragon certainly had its advantages. Unfortunately, he was stuck in another castle a kingdom away, dutifully answering every beck and call of his yet-healing ill father. And while Addie longed to get their happily ever after underway, she knew better than to assume he could just walk away from his royal responsibilities.
Didn’t mean she had to like it, though.
With a sigh, she left her post at the window and padded across an elegant hand-sewn rug of silvers and purples, missing Zayne. Missing blue jeans and underwire bras. Missing going wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, without worry of medieval torture devices or lethal, flying arrows. Welcome to the new normal…
Ah, but the new normal was also chock-full of adventure. While she might have been too big a scaredy-cat to venture outside alone, that didn’t mean she had to sit and twiddle her thumbs either. Not when she still had half a castle left to explore.
She’d been given a cursory tour her first few days there. But several rooms on the upper floors had been intentionally passed by, their doors kept tightly shut. Her brother had promised to play tour guide as time allowed, but so far that’d been next to never. It seemed he too was just as consumed with worry about their missing sister as their father. That, or he was naturally uptight. She hoped it was the former, not the latter.
On the off chance he was around and in good spirits, Addie’s first stop was at his room across the hall first. She’d only been in her twin’s room a few times and always when he was with her. But yesterday was the first time she’d ventured in far enough to spy the beautiful, wall-sized tapestry of a woodland landscape surrounding their family crest: a silver shield inlaid with a royal blue cross, the base of which was encircled by a black dragon’s tail. Addie had reached for it, wanting to feel its silky, jewel-toned strands, but Tristan barked at her to stop. The piece, he advised, had been handed down for countless generations and was both easily stained and quite fragile.
Disappointed, she’d withdrawn her hand and stepped back. That was when she noticed movement at the artwork’s base. It had gently flared from the wall as if moved by a breeze or draft, which struck her as odd since the room’s windows were shut and a draft in that space was unlikely.
Sure, she could have just asked him if drafts were more common in the castle than she’d assumed. But this was Tristan, and a question like that might send him running off in a tizzy to their father as so many of her other questions had. Which was sad, really. When she’d discovered she had a twin, Addie was thrilled. Finally, someone who would understand how her mind worked, be wired the same as her. But where she was a rebel without a cause, he was Mr. Goody Two-shoes through and through, always following their father’s commands, always doing everything expected of him, always so freaking perfect.
And always so very opposite to her.
Addie stopped before his door, took a deep breath, and gave it a light rap.
She listened, waited. After several seconds, she carefully pushed the door open and poked her head inside. “Tristan?”
When nothing but silence answered, she maneuvered her way inside as quietly as the heavy wooden door would allow and slid it shut behind her. Inside, the room was brightly lit by the afternoon sun. But aside from the drifting and floating dust motes that danced in the air at her hurried entrance, nothing else stirred.
Nothing, except the slightest flutter along the bottom hem of that grand tapestry to her right.
Unable to help herself, Addie drew closer and reached out to touch it. Tightly stitched silken thread greeted her fingertips as she marveled at its intricate patterns. How long must it have taken to make something like this? In the modern world, a machine could be programmed to do it in a matter of minutes. But here? Unless magic was involved, this had to have taken months, maybe even years.
A cool draft tickled her ankles, and she looked down to watch the tapestry drift out from the wall by an inch or so, then settle back into place. Drift and settle, drift and settle. She squatted in her princess-y attire as best she could—damn these poofy gowns and corset-like undergarments!—and placed a hand on the floor. A cool, steady stream of air passed beneath the artwork’s hem and kissed her knuckles. But where was it coming from?
Addie moved to the tapestry’s left edge and carefully drew it away from the wall. Instead of stone or lumber, a dimly lit tunnel came into view.
“A secret passage,” she breathed, giddy with excitement. No wonder Tristan barked at me not to touch it.
Addie eased behind the tapestry and followed the tunnel a short distance, its path lit by small windows set a story higher in the castle’s outer stone wall. The corridor appeared empty and clean, not a cobweb in sight. Someone was keeping it clean, but why?
She shook her head, frustrated that Tristan wouldn’t share this delicious find with her, and continued on. Soon she found herself staring at the back of a matching piece of artwork and paused to listen for movement or voices on the other side. Again, silence greeted her. Addie gave the artwork a gentle push. It swung from the wall in a gentle swoosh, leaving space for her to step into the room beyond.