Relinquish(83)
Sunlight streams naturally through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled colors across the polished floor. Huge paintings hang in thick wooden frames, lining the walls as far as I can see down either hall. I can’t help but wonder what the rest of the palace looks like if the foyer is as grand as this.
A door to my right opens, appearing seamlessly from the decorated wall. A squat man with a rotund belly and pointy shoes shuffles toward me, his face glowing with happiness. “Ah, you have finally arrived.” He grabs for my hand, but I draw away. He looks only slightly flustered by my dismissal as he laughs. “I’m sure all of this is slightly overwhelming. It just takes time to adjust, dear.”
“Who are you?” I ask, staring at the balding patch near the crown of his head. It looks unusually slick, as if he actually buffed it to look shiny.
“I am the royal steward.” He bows low in greeting. “The king is anxious to meet with you. Please, follow me.” He waves a hand and totters off. “He’s waiting in the throne room.”
I fear the stability of my voice so I simply nod and walk forward, but Drakon snatches my arm. He releases me instantly as the steward turns back and bows low. “I look forward to serving my new queen. After you meet King Aloysius, you will feel like a brand new person.”
My gaze narrows at his pointed statement. “Don’t think I will forget your treachery or how you’ve tortured Bastien. You pose a threat to the king. That is not something I’m likely to forget even when I’m under his control. I would tread carefully if I were you.”
Drakon scowls and seizes my arm. “Right this way, my queen.”
He yanks me down the hall, leaving Alesta to stand with her mouth gaped open with confusion. I glance back at her. She tries to smile but doesn’t quite pull it off. I look forward, lifting my chin high. I will not show fear.
The hall we pass through is lined with paintings that look oddly familiar to me. “What are these?” I ask without meaning to.
Drakon casts a severe glance at me. “You don’t know?” I shake my head, staring in wonder. I can tell these are of Earth. The colors are bold and vivid, normal. “These were once landmarks from your planet. The pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall in China, the Eiffel Tower, and the Statue of Liberty.” He points at each in turn. An ache forms in my chest as the images go on and on, depicting a world I never had a chance to know.
My mind screams at me to turn and run, but there is nowhere to go. Even if I could escape the palace, it would be pointless. I stand little chance of escaping this planet and zero chance of outrunning my destiny. Drakon would hunt me down and return me to this very spot, and I would be forced to let him.
“Come, come. It’s this way,” the pudgy steward calls. His coat flaps whip about him as he faces forward once more.
A single tear falls down my cheek as I arrive at the door. The last heartbroken cry of my heart is for Bastien, and then… all falls silent as an odd sensation washes over me.
The doors open to reveal a man standing at the bottom of a set of steps that rise behind him, leading to a golden throne. The man appears both noble and kind. His shoulders are broad, his arms and chest well defined from years of labor, although I can’t quite figure what sort of labor would be required of a king. His hair is dark and cut short, lying across his head in such a way it complements his angular face. Flecks of gray are interspersed with his neatly trimmed beard.
Although he appears to be nearly thirty years my senior, I find him pleasing to the eye. A man sure to catch any girl’s attention.
He stares at me from across the vast room, his expression anxious. As I step forward to go to him, I realize his eyes are dark, like the bark of a maple tree back home. A royal blue and golden cloak billows about him as he raises his hands in welcome.
“How long I have waited to finally meet you, Illyria.” My steps seem almost wooden as I approach. He closes the gap between us and takes my hands in his. They are soft yet boasting of strength with his firm grip. “You are far more lovely than I had imagined.”
Oh, how disgusting. Don’t touch me!
He raises my hands and places a kiss on each of my fingers. My smile falters. This feels familiar yet foreign at the same time. The king’s crown glints in the lights above, capturing my attention. My heart hammers in my chest. I’m fearful it will give me away.
A blush rises up from my neck as he steps back to admire me. His gaze lingers long over my curves, his smile growing broad as he finally sweeps back up to meet my nervous gaze. “You are perfect.”
“Thank you, my king.” I dip my head and bow as Alesta had shown me. Drakon reaches out to grab me before I tumble completely.