Page 37

The captain was gloriously built, and for a second she understood why he of all people, was considered a god. She hadn’tmet any other than Heartache and Warrior, but neither one of them seemed to glow like he did. Though, considering he was anactual star,there was a difference to be accounted for. The sun was on his side, casting him in pale rays of light as they punched and pummelled, dodged and drifted apart. They swung and swiped, missing and hitting.

Crimson found that she could be comfortably entertained for hours, just observing from afar like this.

With that thought in mind, she told herself to stop gawking at the man who saved her and Cobalt’s life, pulling away at last as she tried to find some respect for him. She wouldn’t very well like it if he was spying on her while she was partially undressed.

Actually, she might.

Crimson mentally chidded herself for thinking that lustful way, and pushed herself to continue her search for a decent hiding spot. There were four rooms total, even if her imagination originally told her there were five. Her mind could be overactive, and then some most days.

Daydreams were a common occurrence for her.

The first room was the one they entered into originally, a small office with his items neatly organised along the shelves that began three-fourths up on the wall. His desk was massive, mahogany by the rich red-brown of it. A black chair sat behind it, with a fat back and amber legs that curled into themselves. There were a couple leather bound books on the surface, glass pens stacked in a canister and around six drawers carved into the thing.

A rug of constellations sat underneath, detailed down to the names of the star patterns accordingly with each one. There was a bookshelf near the door, filled to the brim with books on each row. West had more books than she’d ever seen in her entire life.Ones that she would no doubt peruse in the endless hours that she’d remain here for.

The second room was the bedroom, just through an archway. No door closed off any of his rooms, and she supposed he didn’t have use for it when this entire section was a blocked off apartment for him. His bed was in the center, with another rug under it. This one held the moon in different phases, all along the navy fabric in silver. His bed was blue as well. There was a platform that it was set upon, raising it off the floor a good foot or two. The grey back came up high, curling backwards in a grey pleated board.

A dresser faced it, on the wall shared with the office. Six drawers again, with a thin closet nearby that opened towards her. She rummaged through the drawers for a good place to stash her satchel, finding the top two empty. But Crimson ultimately found it too obvious to be secure.

Then there was the bathing chamber, with a strange glass square that cut off a corner. There were silver pipes that ran all inside of it, and a handle that turned upwards. Red and blue lines had been painted on either side of it, indicating a temperature, she guessed. She’d have to ask him about that particular device later.

There was no tub, but there was a wash basin that dipped low in the ivory counter and an oval mirror hung just above it. A porcelain toilet was cleverly hidden in the corner too.

The final room seemed to be a parlour of sorts.

With a large couch against the last wall, another window behind it and cream curtains this time. There was a table before it and a tall glass lamp beside it. A couple of paintings hung on the wall, and she found herself staring at his.

It made him look regal, like a King almost.

He was stoic in it, his tall back straight. He wore his captain’s uniform with the star patches on both shoulders, as well as thecharcoal trousers she’d only ever seen him wear. His brown hair was almost black, but it was slicked back in a royal fashion that suited him well.

The painting was incredible.

Whoever had done it was a master at capturing him, down to his likeness. Save for one thing, his eyes. Crimson didn’t think anyone would be able to capture the churning sky he held in his gaze, but it was still him. She rotated away from it and made for the office once more. The drawers couldn’t all be full, if his dresser was any indication.

Crimson yanked at the top two, to her dismay finding them locked. The bottom three were occupied by books and papers and other supplies, but the last one seemed to hold nothing of importance inside it so she tossed her bag within and shut it.

It would do, for now.

A spider tapped its long legs in the far corner of the office, spinning a web of silk and gossamer as it observed her. She did her best to ignore the multi-legged creature, shuddering at the sight of it.

Boredom found her quite quickly as the hour passed. There wasn’t much to do in his rooms, and he had said something about a library before she fell asleep. That would saite her curious mind, well enough. With a quick glance out his office window, seeing if he was still in the courtyard with the other men. As he was, she snuck out of his apartment.

The door shut quietly behind her.

There was an entirely new world before her.

There were multiple versions of life that buzzed beautifully around the palace, the way that servants rushed by with hands full of flowers or baked goods, others with brooms and feather dusters. Soldiers dressed in crimson and black rotated past her onthe way to their daily duties and finely dressed courtiers became a swarm of people. She swung past them all, avoiding becoming a hallway block as she made it to the other side, racing down the hallway. Golden railings came up on either side of the courtyard where the painting of the Saints remained, decorated with flowers of all sorts. Calla lilies and cattails along with hyacinths and orchids were all wonderfully carved into them.

This place was like a storybook coming to life.

Crimson had to remind herself to keep her mouth shut because it kept trying to fall open as she explored as much of the castle as she could without diving into trouble. No one seemed to notice her, nor comment that she was out of place here. But she wasn’t. Even some of the other girls bore hair shades similar to her own, if not more vibrant.

She loved it all.

It was all so different from her life in the slums, where brown and grey and black were the colours, with a splash of red that represented death. This was rich, alive, mesmerising. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it all. Or know where to focus them either.

“Excuse me,” Crimson found a stationary guard with a spear in his hand. “Would you be so kind as to point me towards the library?”