The Bound (Ascension #2)(46)

“You never show your hand to your opponent,” Ahlvie said with a smirk.

“Of course not. You just cheat.”

“Now, you’re getting it.”

She shook her head and tried to put thoughts of Ahlvie, Avoca, and Ceis’f out of her mind. She had too much else to focus on as they trotted up the massive hill to Draydon Castle.





Draydon castle was an ugly blemish on a hill of an otherwise perfectly acceptable-looking city. It was like a black box that jutted out of the ground without even a fortress to protect it from attack. Its only advantage was high ground. The city itself had switched hands with so many rulers in history that Cyrene, even with her affinity for history, couldn’t remember past the last five hundred years. The current King held the land tenuously at best.

They stopped in front of the large wooden door branded with the Aurum symbol—an eagle wearing a crown of oak leaves, the symbol of the Huntress.

“Wood,” Cyrene said softly, shaking her head.

They dismounted, and Cyrene’s horse was shepherded away.

“This way,” a soldier said as the doors creaked open.

Cyrene’s mouth dropped open at the interior of the castle. It was night and day from the ugly exterior. The walls were a soft blue color with intricate molding. The floors were covered in the most elaborate Aurumian carpets that she had ever seen. Her parents had Aurumian rugs in their foyer, but they looked paltry into comparison to what she was sinking her booted feet into. Framed portraits lined the walls, and Cyrene had a hard time believing all of the beauty before her.

After a few turns, a man opened a door into a large room and stepped through. He bowed formally. “Announcing Lord Barkeley Iolair and his traveling companions—Master Haille Mardas, Madam Haenah Mardas, Master Roran Rourke, Madam Ava Rourke.”

Cyrene nearly rolled her eyes. The last time she had pretended to be Ahlvie’s wife, they had nearly been killed. She wasn’t looking forward to that cover story, but if being married kept the King at bay, then so be it.

They were ushered into the room. Cyrene lowered her face, but she kept her eyes trained on the throne room they had entered. It wasn’t half as elaborate as the one in Byern, but it was still gorgeous, set in Aurum reds and blues.

The King sat in the Iolair eagle throne. He was a red-faced, overweight man in layer upon layer of fine silks and a long fur cape that hung past his feet when he sat. He had straggly red hair and seemed to be balding at the crown of his head.

They all dipped into demure bows and curtsies befitting the royalty before them.

“Lord Barkeley!” the King crooned.

He stood from the throne, wobbled considerably, and then paraded down the small set of stairs. A group of attendants jumped forward to help him.

Cyrene nearly grunted in disgust at the drunk pig. What a way to hold court.

“Rise, rise, of course,” King Creighton said dismissively. He finally reached Orden, who stood and towered nearly a head taller than the man. The King clapped him on the back. “Barkeley, my old friend. It has been a long time, cousin.”

“Indeed it has,” Orden said.

“Years in fact. When I heard that you were in the city, I just had to see you! Couldn’t miss the chance to see my favorite cousin.”

Cyrene narrowed her eyes and waited for the punch line. The guy sounded like he was telling a joke, but she didn’t quite understand the humor in his words.

“Yes, of course, King Creighton. I am your humble servant,” Orden said sardonically.

The King didn’t catch the difference.

“Enough with the formalities, Barkeley! We’ve known each other since we were children.”

“As you wish, King Creighton.”

The King’s smile wavered, and then it returned just as quickly. “So, tell me everything. Where have you been all of these years? And who are your mysterious traveling companions?” He glanced over at them, his eyes lingering on Cyrene and Avoca just a touch longer than everyone else.

“As I told your commander, they were just people I happened to pick up along the road. I hardly know them,” Orden lied.

“How long will you be staying? Long enough for the ball, I hope! I know how you love a ball.”

“You’re throwing a ball? For the Eos?” he asked, acting coy.

“We have visitors!” he cried, clapping his hands together. “For the first time in the-Creator-knows-how-long, three royal houses are under one roof, Barkeley. It will be a splendid occasion. You and your friends can stay here until then, of course. That will give us all the time we will need to catch up.”

Orden tried not to look panicked, but if Cyrene could see it on his face, then surely, someone who had known him his whole life might be able to see it. Of course, the King was intoxicated.

“We already have rooms. Paid in advance, Creighton. All our belongings are there.”

“Nonsense. At The Lively Dagger? No Lord of mine is going to be staying at a dastardly inn. Since your Lordship accommodations in the city have gone out of use, you can stay here with me and my little Jesi flower.” His eyes sharpened for a second as he waited for Orden to disagree with him.

Cyrene nearly opened her mouth to do it herself. We can’t stay here in the castle! Kael was here in these walls, and there would be no way to escape then.

Ahlvie nudged her when he saw that she looked ready to speak up, and she ducked her head again. She needed to get herself under control. Orden had said to remain invisible.