Perhaps prudence and quickly managing one's emotions was a skill that one must possess to be a maid in the Grand Duke's castle because Crisseda seemed to have gotten ahold of her shock and was leading Elara down the grand, winding corridors. The echoes of their footsteps blended with the murmurs of servants hard at work.
They reached a pair of heavy wood doors, polished and dark, detailed with intricate engravings of wolves prancing around underneath the moons. The other doors she'd passed hadn't had such engravings on them, she'd noticed because she was taking everything in this castle in with wide, curious eyes. Was this room prepared for her because he planned to have her pretend to be his lover?
Crisseda stepped back so that Elara had full access to the door. "This is the room, miss. His Grace instructed it be prepared with the utmost attention to detail. If anything is not to your liking, please don't hesitate to let me know."
"Of course," said Elara, as she moved forward to push back the heavy doors.
Like the rest of the castle, this room was breathtaking. Sunlight spilled in from floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a view of snow-tipped mountain peaks and the sliver of a river cutting through earth in the distance. Deep blue drapes embroidered with silver vines and tiny stars cascaded down to the polished floors.
The centerpiece of the room was the giant canopy bed. The dark wood of its four posts gleamed, as if it, too, had been waxed and shined. A canopy of blue velvet was tied back exposing the bed dressed in soft layers of blankets and cushions dressed in deep blues and pristine whites. At the foot of the bed was a carved chest, bound in iron with a lock fastened in the shape of a crescent moon.
At the front of the room was an intricate hearth, every bit as pretty as the one at The Moonlit Stag. Its mantle was decorated with slender vases of autumn blooms that filled the air with their sweet, spicy scent. Above the hearth, there was a tapestry depicting the moon goddess, Lunara, standing between a man and a woman. She was placing the moon in the woman's hands. Two armchairs curved in on the hearth.
After she'd thanked her, Crisseda bowed and said, "I will be back when it is time for dinner. His Grace has instructed you dine with him. If you need anything before then, don't hesitate to ring the bell." And she glanced over at a giant rope in the corner of the room. "If not myself, another servant will rush to serve you immediately."
When Crisseda was gone, Elara sank into one of the high-backed chairs surrounding the hearth. Its velvet cushions bowed pleasantly under her weight, and the heat from the fire seeped through her clothes and seemed to warm her down to her bones.
She looked back over her shoulder again. Her eyes traced the elegant furnishings and carefully thought-out wallpaper and couldn't help but compare it to her apartment back home. This room was easily the size of her whole apartment and without all the chipped paint and the radiator that broke every month and the sizeable rent.
With thoughts of her apartment came thoughts of her life. How much time had passed in her world? If it was the same amount of time as this one, she'd already missed work. She imagined Mr. Stultus must be giving poor Carmille a hard time, forcing her to take on Elara's work since she was his next favorite victim right after Elara.
And what about her family? Her mother might not worry if she didn't text for a day or two, but what would happen when a week went by or two or three and they still couldn't find her? They were supposed to be having a family movie night that Saturday. When she didn't show up for it, her mother would definitely know something was up.
Or maybe time had slowed down or stopped altogether. She hoped that was the case. She hoped the unnatural occurrence of being sucked into another world had confused time enough that it had stopped. That way, her family wouldn't have to worry about her.
Or maybe time is faster there than here and a week has gone by already.
Pangs of guilt ate away at her at the thought and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Focus, she told herself. Sitting here worrying over it would do her no good. She knew what she had to do to get back: aid Caspian in achieving a better end and he would pay those priests to send her back to her world. When she'd promised to help him, she meant that promise with every cell in her body. She had to be strong enough to keep it. Dwelling on her family, on the time that might be passing even as she sat here before the fireplace, wouldn't help her be stronger.
It would only distract her.
When she opened her eyes, they fell on the tapestry above the hearth. The Isyndor family was said to be blessed by the gods. The novels said the first king had proven himself through thirty-three labors. It was after its completion that they granted the king the most prosperous land that sat in the center of the world, and with that land, they named him the world's first king. He and his bloodline would be blessed forever, and in each generation, one child born of his line would be the True Ruler of Isyndale. Sometimes, they were male, and other times, they were female but the True Ruler of Isyndale had to take the throne or else they said the gods would rain fury on the kingdom and take it back for themselves.
Their spouses are usually blessed by Lunara. The Day of Eternal Night mentioned that the goddess's blessing manifested in different ways, and one could never predict how it would change those who accepted it. The ninth ruler of Isyndale's royal consort, King Rysamyr, could cast healing magic so powerful he could return the dead to life. The fifth ruler's consort, Queen Marigold, could see visions of the future and held space in the king's council due to her abilities.
Sighing, Elara traced her fingers over the smooth material of the journal Caspian had given her. She'd been lugging it around with her ever since she'd stepped off the carriage because she didn't want to risk it falling into the wrong hands. The intricate scenery of the tapestry blurred before her as her mind filled with thoughts of home and hopes that her family--whether time had slowed or stopped--was alright.
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As promised, Crisseda returned right as the sun was beginning to set. She knocked softly at the door and when Elara urged her to come in, she stood in the doorway and said, "Dinner is being served, miss. The Grand Duke requests your presence."
Right. They were supposed to be pushing the facade that the Grand Duke was madly in love with her. She nodded and placed her journal in the large chest at the foot of her bed, locking it with the key she'd found on the nightstand and tucking said key in between her decolletage. She had never been more proud of her large chest than she was in moments like this.
She followed Crisseda to a set of large double doors. They were carved in dark wood and embossed with a silver Ygdriss tree. Elara only recognized it because the author mentioned it in her forum with pictures and a lengthy explanation on its history.
The Ygdriss tree, the author had written, was inspired by the Ygrassil tree as many of you may have already guessed. In the world of The Day of Eternal Night, the Ygdriss tree is the beginning of all life. It's guarded by Forensa von Ygdriss and her descendants, the world's only Elves.
Crisseda pushed the doors open and the room beyond unfolded with elegance. Vast but still maintaining an element of privacy, the dining room was lit by a chandelier. This chandelier was different than the one in the main hall. Instead of blown glass and crystals, this one was lit by hundreds of candles that bathed the room in a warm, intimate glow.
A long dark mahogany table dominated the majority of the space, set with pristine white linens and glittering silverware. Candles in silver holders were spaced at intervals, their flames steady and bright. Elara suspected they were kept that way by magic because the candles didn't even so much as flicker. Servants were posted along the walls, waiting to aid with dinner when needed. When she looked up, she saw the ceiling was clear and exposed the evening sky. The first moon and a small batch of stars could be seen among the hues of deep purples and blues as the suns set.
Caspian, who was already seated, stood when she entered the room. His lips pulled back in a smile so convincingly genuine, it took Elara's breath away.
Whoa, she thought, eyes wide. A smile like that should come with a warning label.
But she glanced at the staff who were watching them curiously and then looked back at him, pulling her lips back in a smile she hoped was as convincing as his.
"Hello, Elara, I trust your new chambers were to your liking?"
"Yes, they were. Thank you...Caspian."
She heard the surprised intake of breaths from the servants and looked carefully into Caspian's face to see if she'd offended him. She'd only said it because she was sure that was the quickest way to get everyone to believe the two of them really were lovers. If she'd offended him in any way, he certainly didn't show it. He pulled out the chair next to his at the head of the table.
"Please, sit."
She crossed the room, the folds of her dress whispering softly against her skin as she moved, and sat in the gilded chair he'd pulled out for her. When both she and Caspian were seated, he reached out and placed his hand on hers, a gesture full of implications.
"I understand that falling from your world to this one must have been...confusing for you. Are you well?" He spoke in a way that was just loud enough for the servants to hear but quiet enough that it didn't seem like he was forcing it.
Elara forced herself to relax under the warm press of Caspian's calloused hands. The traitorous thundering of her heart was a lost cause, of course, but that really couldn't be helped. Her favorite character was literally touching her. His fingers were curled around hers so intimately that she thought, surely this was unnecessary. She knew it was all part of the act, but the gentleness in his eyes was unnervingly real.
She took a deep breath and returned his smile with a look of what she hoped was tender familiarity. "It's been...a lot," she replied, and the slight tremor of her voice wasn't an act. "But being here with you has made it easier."
That much was true. Getting to look at her favorite character day in and day out was a fair trade for being dragged into an unfamiliar world with no family and no friends to get her by. Not that she'd had a lot of friends to begin with.
Caspian squeezed her hand, the steely depths of his silver eyes melting under her gaze. It was as if he was truly captivated by her response.
Damn, he's good at this. Was this ever described in the novel? I'm pretty sure I'd remember if the author mentioned his acting skills. Maybe that was also a part of some hidden notes, just like the flushing toilets and running water.
The quiet shuffling of the servants told her their act was working. She could feel the curious gazes burning hotly on their interlaced hands, and hear the shuffling as maids nudged each other in disbelief. If Elara knew anything about workers it was this: they loved to gossip. Tomorrow, news of this would spread like wildfire all over the castle. The stoic, enigmatic Grand Duke had fallen madly in love with the Otherworlder who spoke to him with ease and familiarity. Part of her was looking forward to what kind of stories would have circulated by the time she woke up tomorrow--perhaps they'd she say bewitched him. Either way, it was a good place to start.