The next morning, Cyrene shot out of bed and hastened up the steps onto the deck. Her feet skidded across the planks until she was at the railing with her mouth agape. Still leagues ahead of them—glistening, pale, and gorgeous in the morning sunrise—stood Albion, the White City.
She had never dreamed Albion would be so breathtaking. Krisana, the central palace, had been constructed to be seen from nearly anywhere in the city as it sat high above the surrounding buildings. Rumors suggested seashells that had been laboriously crushed, molded, and reconstructed into a smooth, flawless matte surface constituted the entirety of the castle. The sectioned off neighborhoods within the city walls called Vedas that were built around the castle were whitewashed in the same fashion, but none gleamed quite as gloriously as the palace or stayed as perfectly white. The city branched out into a maze of roads and crossroads of white flattop houses and shops. From a distance, it gave the illusion that the city was one white dot on the surface of the Earth.
Their ship rounded the last great bend of the Keylani River leading into Albion and revealed the Lakonia Ocean in all its expansive beauty. Cyrene had never seen the ocean, and a knot formed in her throat at the sight. It was truly an experience that could not be equated with anything else. She had lived her life in the Taken Mountains, believing them to be the most magnificent and imposing thing in existence, and then the Lakonia Ocean shattered every preconception she had ever had.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Daufina asked, coming up behind Cyrene.
Cyrene startled, not having heard her approach. “Stunning.”
“You would think it wouldn’t be as beautiful returning to a place you lived for seventeen years, but it gets more and more so each time I return.”
“You grew up in Albion?”
“You can’t see my parents’ house from here, but it is in one of the oldest of the Vedas surrounding Krisana.”
“Were your parents in the inner circle?”
Daufina gave her a secretive smile, as if the question was controversial.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s nothing. Just old scandal.” Somehow, she managed to look gloriously regal, even with her dismissive hand motion. “My father was in the High Order, and my mother was working as a seamstress’s apprentice in the Third Class when they met. He was supposed to marry an Affiliate, but they wed. After my grandfather passed, my father left court to return to Albion to take control of the Birket House.”
“Sounds like a hopeless romantic.”
Daufina laughed. “That is my father. Probably the truest reason he was placed in the High Order.”
Cyrene wasn’t sure how that made any sense since it was all based on one’s education and what was best for the person and society. There was something about the whole ceremony that was beyond comprehension. It certainly made little sense to her why someone like Jardana had been raised to be an Affiliate. If anyone had deserved it, it was Rhea.
At the thought of her best friend, Cyrene’s excitement returned in full force. She would soon be reunited with Rhea, and she couldn’t wait to see her. A pang hit her heart at the weight of her absence.
“Come along. We’ll be there shortly.” Daufina paced the length of the deck and took a seat at a small table.
Cyrene sat across from her, staring at the White City as they approached.
Edric appeared shortly after, freshly shaven and already in his finest outfit. He smiled brightly at the two women.
“Fine day to arrive in Albion. Not a cloud in the sky.”
Breakfast along with morning tea was placed before them. Cyrene was too anxious about their arrival to engage Edric and Daufina in conversation. Her mind was elsewhere—on the city and what she would be doing once she got there.
Maelia finally made it to the deck at the end of breakfast. Her complexion was still pale, but Cyrene was just happy to see her on her two feet.
The girls went to the railing to watch as the procession ships maneuvered into the dock. Edric and Daufina joined them, smiling down at the small entourage waiting on the dock.
Cyrene observed their welcome party. Besides the guards stationed around the docks, only fifteen in total greeted them. It was a far cry from the hundreds waving their farewell earlier that week.
As they stood on the deck, Edric brushed against her arm, and his fingers slid on top of hers. Her heart sped up a million miles a minute. She was met with a quick glance of blue-gray, and she saw a mix of emotions wash over his face.
She tucked her hand under the railing, and he laced their fingers together.
He leaned in closer, whispering so that only she could hear, “I wish we could stay.”
“You’re the king,” she reminded him.
He could make them stay if he wanted.
Edric extracted his hand and nodded grimly. His lips were set in a straight line. “Yes, I remember.”
Cyrene swallowed. She hadn’t meant to push him away, but this ship had been a dream, and they were about to walk the plank back to reality.
The boat shuddered to a stop. Edric walked forward with Daufina following close behind him. He didn’t look back once. Cyrene told herself it was for the better in the long run. He knew that nothing could happen. After she spent a minute trying to convince herself of that, she trailed them to the gangway.
Cyrene landed on firm ground again. Maelia stepped off after her, clutching her arm, as she seemed to rock back and forth a few times. Cyrene reassuringly squeezed her arm, and then they caught up to the rest of the group.
“Cousin”—Edric grasped the forearm of the burly man with a full-grown beard and a round belly at the lead of the party—“it has been too long.”
“King Edric, you bless our family with your gracious ruling. May your honor forever shine upon Byern.”
Edric chortled, bringing the man into his chest for a hug. “Come, Duke Halston of Albion. Let’s make peace together over this fine day in the White City.”
Cyrene glanced over the shoulder of Daufina and stared at Duke Halston. She knew about him and his brother, Duke Wynn of Levin. They were the sons of Edric’s aunt, Princess Saldana, and Duke Reagles.
Cyrene remembered her parents speaking about how if King Maltrier had died without an heir, then their father, King Herold, had wanted to ensure a Dremylon still ruled, and the alliance had formed. They carried Dremylon blood but weren’t in contention for the throne as long as there was a Dremylon son in line.
For the first time, she truly understood Edric’s fear about the Queen’s miscarriages. She buried her dark thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.
A plump woman in a lavender gown stepped forward. She had a genuine bubbly smile, joyful round face, and a good-natured bounce in her step. “Consort Daufina.” She bobbed a short curtsy. “I have deeply missed your presence in the court at Albion. It is a great honor to see you back in the White City and looking as ravishing as ever.”
“Duchess Elida, it is always a pleasure to be in your company. I look perfectly ordinary next to you in full bloom.” Daufina touched her belly. “Not much longer I believe. A month or two?”
“Two!” she squeaked, proudly putting her hands under her belly.
“Wonderful! I do hope the King and I can make a trip down through the rainy season to greet your new boy,” Daufina said, paying her the highest compliment.
“One can only hope.” She practically bounced up and down.
Daufina introduced Cyrene, Maelia, and the other Affiliate Neila, who had just walked onto the dock. Duchess Elida welcomed them to her home and introduced an Affiliate of her own, Karra, a tan woman with dark features and a pleasant demeanor similar to the Duchess.
Duchess Elida linked arms with Daufina and walked them toward the waiting carriages. “Come along. Can’t keep the men waiting now, can we?”
The carriages were large white spectacles, big enough to comfortably fit six. Enormous all-white horses standing nearly seven feet tall with extensive feathering on their lower legs drew the carriages. While used to the guard steeds, Cyrene had never seen ones of this size look quite as elegant or as snowy white.
The horses took off, bustling the women through the city, followed by the remainder of the people who had been on board the King’s ship. The horses, luggage, and additional items that the court would need while traveling would follow them up to the castle shortly afterward.
Albion’s streets were narrower than Byern’s and packed with city folk calling out to the carriages as they passed. Merchants and peddlers flocked to the crowds, trying to sell their wares.
As they neared the Krisana castle, her eyes remained trained on the crowds, and her smile was bright on her face. Children tossed flowers at their carriage. Others danced and laughed in the streets. Girls wore flowered crowns on their heads and waved ribbons in the air. A few of the boys jabbed at each other with wooden swords. This procession welcome was a merry place with cheerful music.
A chill ran up her spine, and her eyes cast around her surroundings to figure out where the uneasy feeling was coming from. She distinctly felt like she was being watched. But how would I know when there are hundreds of eyes on me?
Cyrene’s gaze drifted to a man standing among the onlookers. With a plain brown cloak, a matching rumpled shirt, and large brimmed hat, he was much taller than the women and children around him. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t smiling. Maybe it was just the severity of him that had chilled her…
As he faded from view, Cyrene shrugged it aside. She didn’t even know why she had noticed him or why she was thinking such grim thoughts.
They passed through the final bend of the city and reached the great white gates that allowed them entry to the inner gardens of Krisana.
Up close, the castle rivaled Nit Decus, the Byern castle, in size and grandeur. Without the mountain obscuring its immense depths, the castle seemed endlessly tall with hundreds of balconies shooting from round-topped spires.
Their carriage traveled over a wooden drawbridge. Krisana had seen more battles than any other Byern city in history and had never fallen. The white exterior was reinforced with a strong fortification that had never yielded to an enemy. The entire city could crumble, and Krisana would continue to stand regally.
The carriage carted them around a circular travel-worn entranceway and stopped before mother-of-pearl double doors. They glistened and shined in the afternoon sun in such a gorgeous fashion that perfectly fitted the castle’s namesake. Krisana was the ancient word for pearl.
A man immediately appeared to help them out of the carriage. Cyrene took his hand and followed behind Maelia onto the grounds of the White Castle.
The double doors to the castle opened, and the whole party moved through the inner foyer that had a mile-high round ceiling with intricate mother-of-pearl molding, arched trellises, and a rug with baby-blue, cream, and gold colors running the length of the room. The royal throne room was at the end of the hallway and matched the foyer in construction. Interchanging white and mother-of-pearl tiles were visible on the floor throughout the room, and several glass murals of the ocean cast natural light into the center of the room. The focal point rested on the five chairs set on a pedestal, all ornate and all draped in Dremylon green.
“As Regent of Albion,” Duke Halston said, standing inside the throne room, “I happily present to you, King Edric, the great throne of Byern set forth in the White City.”
“Much thanks, Duke Halston,” Edric replied. “I trust that the city has been successful in the hands of my kin, and I will be happy for you to continue as Regent when I return to the capital.”
“It is an honor.” Duke Halston bowed at the waist.
“Now, this matter you mentioned in the carriage—” Edric began.
“Terrible thing.” Duke Halston swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly in his throat. “I almost fear suggesting it in front of the women.”
Daufina raised an eyebrow at Duke Halston, and the remaining women all looked shocked at his impropriety. To think that a woman would be any less capable of handling whatever terrible matter the Duke was about to describe than a man was outrageous. They might as well regress their society and break down the Affiliate program entirely. What is the point of having a consort as an advisor to the king if she wasn’t as capable as any man?
Duchess Elida popped her hand against the Duke’s arm. “Halston!” she said shrilly. She shot him a disapproving look.
“No offense meant, Consort.” He had the decency to look sheepish.
“Daufina presides over all matters of state,” Edric said.
“Yes, well, I meant no harm. It’s just—”
“First things first, Halston,” Daufina cut him off, holding up her hand. “I believe we should excuse some of our audience before speaking about these matters.”
“Of course, Consort.” He bobbed his head. Even as Regent of Albion, cousin to the King, and a duke, his position rested below the Consort.
The room emptied of servants, and Halston ushered out the Albion court. As everyone was leaving, Queen Kaliana strode into the room with Jardana and Catalin close on her heels. Her eyes immediately settled on Edric, and Cyrene did everything in her power to remain calm and not panic. The Queen couldn’t know what had happened on the procession ship.
Then, Edric glanced up and met Cyrene’s gaze. They both smiled, as if sharing a secret. It was only for a second, but it was enough.
Queen Kaliana shot daggers at her. Any chance that she didn’t know something had gone on between them slipped away.
“What is going on in here?” Queen Kaliana asked.
“Duke Halston has brought forward some news,” Edric said. “There have been two more deaths here in Albion.”
The room fell silent at the proclamation. Two more deaths? How can this be? Cyrene had thought that they had left the killer behind in Byern.
“Two more?” Daufina asked. “Who?”
“High Order Grabel and Affiliate Pallia,” Halston said.
“Don’t you think we should only speak about such matters in front of members of the inner circle?” Queen Kaliana asked sharply. She turned her eyes to Cyrene.
“I believe we are among the inner circle,” Edric countered. He ignored her rebuff and turned his attention away from her. “Back to the matter at hand. We cannot ignore what has happened. Zorian, Leslin, and now, Grabel and Pallia. It doesn’t seem coincidental.”
“I knew Pallia,” Daufina said. “She was as skilled with a sword as any man.”
“Grabel grew up in the Royal Guard. He, too, knew the way of the sword. He was a formidable opponent,” Duke Halston told them.
“Where were they last seen?” Queen Kaliana asked.
“For several months, Pallia and Grabel had been overseeing and assisting the river city Strat in Aurum,” Duchess Elida said softly. “They returned a couple of weeks ago to meet the procession. A good friend of Pallia’s had told her that her sister would be on the procession, and Pallia was interested in meeting her. I believe the friend was…hmm…Aralyn. That sounds right.”
Cyrene’s vision blurred. Aralyn had told someone she was coming to Albion, and that person had turned up dead. She covered her mouth in horror. Zorian had come back for her Presenting, and he had also been killed. Leslin was friends with her sister and had died after Cyrene had gone to ask for her help. Her stomach clenched, and she had to close her eyes. What could it possibly mean? It couldn’t have anything to do with her.
“Cyrene,” Maelia whispered softly.
She shook her head, silencing her friend. She couldn’t talk about this right now.
“We must send a team to investigate, especially after the manner of deaths of Pallia and Grabel. No disappearance should go unwarranted, but the signs of targeted murders…” Edric let that thought hang thick in the air.
“I’ll get a team together and see what can be discovered.” Duke Halston signaled to a High Order.
“I’d love to add my own companion. High Order Eren is quite adept in this field, and unfortunately, he has lost a brother in these circumstances,” Edric said.
“Any person you recommend, Your Highness, is of the utmost quality. I am sure of it,” Duke Halston agreed.
“I would be honored, Your Highness,” Eren said.
“It will be great to have a trusted addition from the King’s High Order. This way High Order Eren,” Duke Halston said.
The men bowed to the King, and Eren followed Duke Halston out of the chamber.
The nausea that had started at the mention of Aralyn’s name wouldn’t pass, and the more Cyrene thought about it, the more she feared that she needed to speak up. If it had just been Zorian, then maybe she wouldn’t feel the connection, but Leslin, Pallia, and Grabel too? She needed to say something. It might help the investigation.
But she didn’t know what connection she had to these murders, and drawing attention to herself in such a manner could be counterproductive. How could I possibly tell Edric or any of them that I think I’m involved when I had come here in the first place to fulfill my plan? She was risking much with Maelia, and she needed to think about that first and foremost.
The moment passed in which it would have been appropriate for her to mention her connection, and the conversation moved on to more cheerful matters.
“I believe I’m worn out from the journey,” Cyrene spoke privately to Daufina. “I need to go rest.”
“Of course,” Daufina said with a smile.
Cyrene could feel Queen Kaliana’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look in the Queen’s direction, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
“You’re in the Pearl Bay Chambers,” Daufina said. “Elida has maids waiting to direct you to your rooms.”
“Thank you, Consort,” Cyrene said formally. She dipped a low curtsy, knowing the Queen was watching.
Maelia exited with her. Cyrene’s maid approached her, curtsied, and offered herself as an escort to her new quarters. Cyrene politely declined, telling her she wanted to look around some first, and then dragged Maelia away from the woman.
They fell in step together, walking leisurely toward the castle grounds. The circular entranceway now bustled with people arriving from the procession. Affiliates and High Order walked around, speaking freely to each other. A group of horses were tied together and being guided across the drawbridge. Strong sturdy men and a few able-bodied women unloaded carts, carrying everything from luggage to food to furniture.
“I can’t believe there were two more murders,” Maelia whispered.
Cyrene nodded. “Me neither.”
“They were friends of your sisters here to speak with you.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“What do you think it means?”
Cyrene shook her head. She had no clue.
“Do you still want to continue forward?” Maelia asked.
The words stuck in her throat. Continuing forward meant leaving all she had known behind, including Edric all to find out about a book. A book that only she could see the words, that stole time, and frightened a peddler, who insisted she seek out Matilde and Vera in Eleysia to discover the meaning of it. Is it worth it?
“Yes,” she responded, answering the spoken and unspoken question.
“Okay.”
“With everything going on right now, I think we won’t find a better chance.”
“You’re right.” Maelia seemed to stand taller at the thought. “You’re right.”
“Let’s go,” Cyrene said, nudging her forward.
While Cyrene’s horses were with her in Albion, nothing was organized enough for her to find someone to locate them for her. So the girls found the first available horses, took hold of the reins with purpose, and began to slowly walk them in the opposite direction. No one even seemed to notice them among the chaos of the courtyard. Soon, they were trotting down the narrow lane outside of Krisana’s walls, away from the castle.