Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Running my fingers over the velvety backs of the chairs, I continued forward, feeling like I was walking through someone else’s living quarters, where gold was clearly a theme in the décor.
And the dining chamber was no exception. Gold accented the round dining table and chairs made of the same light-colored wood as the massive table in the Solar. It also framed the windowed dome above. At least the King’s Solar wasn’t drenched in crimson like many of the chambers in Wayfair were.
Between the lack of crimson and all the glass, I had to think this section had been built when Atlantia ruled the realm. Possibly even before that. Knowing that Atlantians had once occupied this wing made me feel a little more comfortable.
I pushed open a set of double doors trimmed in gold. “Goodness.”
My hands fell to my sides as my wide-eyed gaze locked on the canopy bed on another raised platform. It was absurdly large, wide enough to fit at least four or five people, and so long I had to wonder exactly how tall the person—or small army—this bed had been constructed for was.
Opaque curtains had been tied back against the posts, revealing a mound of pillows at the head of the bed and neatly tucked blankets. It looked soft, and I had to resist the urge to dive headfirst into the heap of pillows.
I looked up. Unsurprisingly, the ceiling was made of glass, which explained the thick curtains surrounding the bed. Once drawn, they would block out the light streaming in from above and the floor-to-ceiling window that made up the wall. The shutters on an oval-shaped window were cracked open on the other side of the bed, letting in a bit of cool, fresh air. There was a thickly cushioned, light-gray sofa that honestly could’ve doubled as a bed. A dark-gray quilt was draped over one of the two armchairs across from it, and a low table sat between them. Two doors opposite the wall of windows drew my attention.
There had better be a massive tub behind one of those doors, or I would riot.
Opening one, I was surprised to find a large wardrobe—no, not a wardrobe. What had Casteel called this? Our rooms in the palace at Evaemon had one of these. A…walk-in wardrobe? This one wasn’t nearly as big as the other, but it was still unnecessarily large, especially considering we had so few clothing items. The proof was in the handful of Casteel’s things hanging from the rods.
A still-packed saddlebag hung beside a cloak that I thought Kieran had worn while we were on the road to Carsodonia. Then again, it was just a plain cloak, so it could be anyone’s.
My gaze lifted to a wooden box engraved with the Atlantian Crest. I stretched up, running my fingers along the smooth wood holding the gilded bone crowns we’d once stored in a cigar box.
I walked on, spotting a few of the tunics and breeches Tawny must’ve brought with her. Did she know I was awake? Guilt crept through me. I knew she had to be worried, and instead of being, well, weird, I should have been assuaging her concerns.
Telling myself that I would see Tawny soon, I looked over some of the other items hanging there. Tunics. Gowns. Leggings. I tugged a gown out, seeing that it would likely fit, which meant it probably hadn’t been something just lying around. The Ascended were impossibly thin.
Letting go of the gown, I spotted the chest. Kneeling before it, I opened the lid to find a small arsenal of bows, arrows, short swords, and steel and bloodstone daggers. There were even a few shadowstone blades, though I had no idea where they’d come from. I exhaled long and slow as I spied a bundle of black cloth. I picked it up, recognizing the weight immediately. Unfurling the soft material, I revealed the bloodstone dagger and a thigh harness.
A mix of bittersweet emotions swelled within me as I stared at the blade Vikter had given me. It had saved my life more times than I cared to count, and I felt like it was an extension of me. But as I ran my finger down the crimson blade, I knew I could no longer look at it without thinking about the wolven the bone handle had been crafted from.
Placing the thigh harness on the floor, I wrapped the cloth around the dagger again and laid it next to the harness. I grabbed a shadowstone dagger, revealing a large burlap pouch beneath it. Curious, I loosened the tie and reached inside.
My hand brushed against the softness of leather, and I wrapped my fingers around a dagger’s smooth, tapered hilt.
A bone dagger.
Letting the pouch fall back into the chest, I stared at the blade that could’ve killed Casteel.
That had.