Page 20 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 20

“ W e’ll start at the kitchens,” Ulrich stated while I struggled with the small easel strapped around my neck.

The pouch around my waist clattered together with my koal—far more than I ever needed to map out a palace.

“Why the kitchens?” I enquired.

Ulrich smiled at me. “Because they lead everywhere . They are the veins of my palace.”

“Who uses them?”

Ulrich led the way through the palace, toward the kitchens I had surprisingly not yet visited.

“Myself and my troll ,” he replied. “Olen as well. Those who need to get around quickly.”

I pondered his words while we talked, noting down on my parchment the path we took from the library. Down stairs I hadn’t known existed just beyond the table I’d come to claim.

The stone staircase spiraled down with small windows providing red light as we descended.

Every few feet a door would appear, jutting off from the stairs but Ulrich ignored each one.

I, however, did not.

I scribbled the stairs and each door we passed, making sure to note the size of each one and the strange markings carved into their surfaces. I wanted to ask what they all meant, where they all led, but somehow I knew I would find out eventually.

Ulrich’s cold filled the staircase while we walked, making it hard to take in a full breath. And so, by the time we reached the door he stopped at, I was struggling and huffing loudly.

“Do you need to begin training your body, Brenna?” Ulrich laughed.

I threw him an irritated glance, bending at my waist to catch my breath. “No.” I gasped in more air. “I need you to control yourself and not take all the available air.”

He laughed then shoved against the door before him.

Scattering echoed just beyond the threshold, and I followed close behind, watching troll dip down in respect. My eyes took in the kitchen, marveling at the grey stone and copper pans lined across the wall. The hearth, massive and taking up one wall, had a roaring fire lit with a copper pot hanging on a hook before it.

And the smells—making my tongue salivate instantly.

“These are the kitchens,” Ulrich spoke.

“I’m aware,” I replied.

A troll appeared, slightly taller than the rest, bending at its waist. “Your grace,” it said softly, its voice deeper than I had expected for such a small creature. “My people do not make deals.”

Ulrich’s eyes met mine and he smiled. “Gard, my wraith is not here to help me claim a soul.”

My blood boiled at the word.

“She is here to map for me. I am showing her the passages.”

Gard stood, its red eyes studying mine. “Am I required to allow it to assist in my kitchens?”

Its voice was nearly frantic as it asked its question.

Ulrich laughed. “No, Gard, she is assisting me with a personal project. You all can return to your duties. She will not return to your kitchens after today.”

Gard nodded its head then dipped away. The noises of the kitchen resumed with spoons clattering against pots and pans and shuffling feet echoing around.

Ulrich snapped his fingers, pointing to his side.

“I am not an animal,” I said, standing beside him.

“I’m aware,” he winked.

I stared at his eyes through his favored black mask. The green, brighter than usual behind the dark color.

“Why the masks?” I slammed my mouth shut as the question left my lips.

Ulrich smiled. “Why not? It’s been a long-standing tradition in the Unseelie Court. One I am not inclined to end for your comfort.”

My hand instinctively went to the ribbon around my head and the silver mask resting on the bridge of my nose.

Ulrich turned on his heel, leading the way through the kitchens. When we’d crossed the surprisingly large space, he stopped before four separate doors.

“This one—” He pointed to the left. “That goes directly to the ballroom. A set of stairs going up two stories right to the left-hand corner of the room.”

His hand pointed to the door beside it. “This one leads to the troll personal quarters, of which I cannot show you yet without Gard’s permission.”

I stared, unmoving and listening intently.

“Are you not going to record this?” Ulrich asked.

I shook my head, pulled from my intense focus.

“Oh yes,” I muttered, pulling up the easel and marking down a few rough sketches with notes beside them.

When I lifted my head once more, Ulrich continued.

“This one—” he pointed to the door on the far-right, “leads straight down to the docks and city street.”

“For provisions,” I whispered.

“Correct,” Ulrich replied. “And this one—” He pointed to the door near the middle. The third-one from the left. “This one holds all the secrets.”

My pulse picked up while the words left his lips. The chance to explore secret passages in an ancient palace was enough to make my head swim with ecstasy. An experience I’d dreamed of having throughout my long life. A longing I had each time father and I visited Aesir.

“Would you like to go first?” Ulrich asked.

My hands trembled, making the koal in my hand shake against the parchment. “You lead the way,” I managed to reply.

Despite how enamored I was with the exploration, I would not place myself in a position that would allow him to be at my back. I wasn’t a total fool.

Ulrich nodded with amusement in his eyes, and he pushed the door open, stepping through with his hand waving for me to follow.

I gripped the easel and the koal in my hand as I stepped through then gasped at what I saw.

Before me was indeed a passageway, all lit by bright, unmelting candles but above was a brilliant unending skylight with the moon like a painting above.

“How is this possible?” I asked, spinning in place with my head craned up.

“Excellent builders who knew how to execute my vision,” Ulrich replied.

I pulled my eyes from the beauty above me and stared at the king. “How old are you?”

He stopped his steps, turning slowly to meet my eyes.

“There is no number in existence to recount the years I’ve lived.”

“That’s impossible,” I replied.

Ulrich smiled, stepping back and motioning to his body. “Look at me, Brenna. How old would you say my body appears to be?”

My blood rushed through me, and I turned my head. But his shadows had gripped my chin before I could fully cast my gaze away, forcing me to look upon him once more.

“Answer the question,” he commanded.

I shoved away the shadows, my fingers going through them eerily. I studied his features. Only I could barely study a single one beside the youth in his hands and body with his beard and mask covering his face.

“Well,” I sighed, “if you didn’t hide behind that mask, I would be able to tell you.”

His smile crept across his lips. “How old is Oberon?”

My mouth opened then closed suddenly. Shock ran through me. I hadn’t considered Oberon’s age. He was older, that much I knew with the white to his hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but I hadn’t ever stopped to wonder just how old he was.

I rubbed my temples. “I do not know,” I admitted.

“You are nearly one-hundred and fifty years old,” Ulrich stated. “Your father is, what, eighty years your senior? Perhaps a little more with his fae blood?”

I nodded.

“And your grandmother? Is she half or full fae?”

“She is half,” I replied.

“Explain that to me,” Ulrich steered the conversation. “That makes your father half-fae as well.”

“There is always half-fae blood within my bloodline. My father married a mortal making me still half, but I was expected to marry a full-fae man to continue the half-fae tradition.”

“That did not work out.”

My stomach dropped and I stared in both rage and shock. “I am aware.”

“You wouldn’t have outlived him.”

“Are you intent on reminding me of my mortality and ticking lifespan, your grace?” I snapped.

Ulrich leaned against the wall. “No. You were the one questioning ages.”

“I only wanted to understand how long you’ve been terrorizing our world, your grace.”

“Your world,” he winked and shoved away from the wall.

Leaving me to catch up behind him with my tools clanging together as though I were nothing more than a mare saddled with provisions.

“Why do you have no magic?” he asked, staring down at me.

My brow crumpled. “What?”

“Your father has abilities.”

“I—” My head shook. “Yes, the water calls to him.”

“Not you?” Ulrich stopped his steps.

“No, your grace . Nothing. I’m as close to a mere mortal. As defenseless as one as well,” I snapped.

“That’s unlikely,” he replied.

I scowled. “Will you stop your questioning and resume showing me whatever it was you were intent on showing me?”

His grin was wide and he turned back on his heel, continuing his trek down the hall. His hand ran down the stone walls. “When you leave my kitchens, you walk a while before any entrances appear to the rest of the palace.”

My hand began to move while he walked, scribbling and noting his words. We stopped every so often while Ulrich allowed me to roughly sketch the long hall. Making sure I was recording the passage as accurately as I could.

We rounded a corner, and I let out a gasp.

We were standing in what appeared to be a foyer with entrances to candle-lit hallways surrounding us.

I stepped to the middle of the room, spinning in place, realizing it was circular.

“This is magnificent,” I whispered in amazement.

“I know,” Ulrich replied.

I didn’t turn to meet his eyes. Not with the beauty before me. It was a labyrinth and a puzzle all at the same time. I counted each passageway, stopping when I’d completed my observation.

“Twelve?” I questioned. “Like…”

“A clock,” Ulrich interrupted. “Running a palace is like clockwork. Something you’ll learn when you take over from your father.”

I dropped my head, unwilling to hear those words when I wasn’t sure I would claim my own birthright.

“The building of the palace started here,” Ulrich muttered, and I looked up, watching him run his hand around the walls, waving his hand through each open hallway as he passed them. “I had to have a place to access every point of my home if need be. While also having a place to retreat to if a threat came upon it and my people.”

My hand stopped noting his words and I lifted a brow.

“There’s nothing in our world more dangerous than you.”

Ulrich’s hand dropped. “I am not the most dangerous being in your world, Brenna. I would advise you not to forget that.”

“Impossible,” I objected. “No one else in the world terrorizes as you do. I have never in my life seen so much violence and death since arriving here.”

“The most dangerous monsters are the ones who lurk in plain sight, undetected, trusted, and knowing,” Ulrich replied coldly.

My body shivered at the cold now layering over the circular room. The koal in my hands trembled and I stepped back. Ulrich was tense where he stood, his shoulders heaving and fear coursed through me in response.

Had I awoken that monster that had appeared on the beach once more? Had I unintentionally sparked his hidden rage?

He stood, running his hand through his hair before shaking his head.

“We’ll start at twelve,” he said as though nothing had happened.

“Twelve?” I questioned.

“On the clock?” his hand rose pointing across the room. “I told you the room is mimicking clockwork. I will take you down this hallway first.”

I nodded nervously, adjusting the easel on my neck and quickly marking the room before following behind him.

The hallway was like the other, with candles lining the walls, only there was no skylight. Ulrich followed the winding path, stopping at the first door.

He pushed it open, allowing me to peek into the room.

“A closet,” he laughed.

I scoffed, thumping him on the chest as I backed out.

His laugh stopped abruptly, and his head snapped down in my direction. My hand went to my chest in response.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“That was a playful gesture,” he said blankly.

I stepped back. “It won’t happen again.”

His gaze met mine and he blinked then nodded before heading back down the hall. Too stunned to speak, I met his pace, marking the winding turns of the hallway and the lack of additional doors.

We walked for too long, causing me to worry I had truly been a fool to follow him when he stopped, and my face slammed into his back.

The contents of my pouch clattered to the ground and sticks of koal scattered along with the other contents of the pouch.

“Fuck the Gods,” I groaned lowering to gather my supplies.

I reached the koal closest to me when his palm wrapped around mine, pulling my eyes away from the floor.

“It’s just koal,” he said, handing me a handful I hadn’t seen him gather.

I nodded, placing it into the pouch before standing.

“I was startled,” I whispered.

Ulrich nodded his head, an odd distant stare in his eyes as he turned away from me and shoved on a door I hadn’t yet noticed.

“Twelve is my favorite hallway,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“Watch.”

Cold air hit me right in the chest as he shoved the door open and then I smelled it—the sea.

The easel and pouch were on the ground before I could consider my next move, and my feet were moving at an unnatural speed.

The sand crunched beneath my shoes, and I kicked them off, gasping at the cold from the winter air. I threw my hands out, spinning under the moonlight, breathing in the smell of home.

“Gods,” I cried, placing my hand on my heart. “Oh Gods.”

The cries were unstoppable and surprising when I’d gone to the secluded beach just earlier in the day, relishing in my hour of solitude in the water. Only, I hadn’t realized another, possibly even more secluded beach was closer to me than the one across the city.

I lowered, sinking my knees into the sand, throwing my mask to the side before I dug fingers as deep as they would go.

“What is this?”

I pulled my eyes to the king, finding him unmoving and staring at me. His body rigid, his hands softly trembling at his side.

“My beach,” he muttered.

“I do not understand how your home is built,” I replied, laying back into the sand.

“You’re going to get filthy,” Ulrich said above me.

I closed my eyes, allowing my body to sink into the miniscule fragments. “I do not care.”

I wasn’t sure how long I laid on the beach. My hands were splayed out above my head and my legs out at the sides, turning my body into the same shape as the creatures lurking deep in the sea lapping at the shores a short distance from me.

Despite being lost in my peace and comfort, I was still aware of the towering body near me. Watching me. Silently.

A predator watching his prey.

Eventually I broke, not able to ignore his presence any longer.

Sand stuck to my dress and hair while I sat up, cocking my head to the side. “Why two private beaches?”

Ulrich’s gaze went to the water behind me. “Reminds me of somewhere.”

“Where?”

His response was a whisper, too quiet for me to hear. But his shoulders slumped in defeat while his mouth barely moved.

I pulled my knees to my chin, observing the king now lost in his own thoughts and memories. Wondering if perhaps I should leave to allow him privacy.

His body suddenly relaxed, his tight shoulders loosened and he offered me a smile.

“Care for a swim?” he asked.

My neck twisted while I glanced back at the sea. I wanted to, so badly my bones ached, but I did not want to be alone in the water with him. I most definitely did not want to enter the frigid surface with only the winter gown I had on my body.

“I do not have my suit,” I replied.

“And?”

I stood, brushing as much sand as I could from my dress and shaking out my hair. “I’ll freeze.”

“I’ll warm you,” he replied.

“No.” I stepped back toward the open door. “I would rather not.”

Ulrich’s eyes gleamed under the moonlight. “Perhaps another night?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I continued my retreat back to the palace, picking up my supplies as I went.

The door shut loudly behind me, but I held my head high. Cursing myself for allowing him to walk behind me.

By the grace of the Gods, my scribbles and notes allowed me to reach the foyers of Ulrich’s passages but once we’d arrived, I could not understand which way to return.

Ulrich approached by my side, pointing a few hallways down.

“Hallway three leads to the floors with the bedrooms.”

“Thank you,” I replied, ignoring the sand still falling from my dress as I walked.

“You are welcome to use twelve for your daily swims,” he said quietly.

“I do not think that is necessary.”

Ulrich grasped my wrist, stopping me in my place. “I would prefer you to stay close, Brenna. Use these passages to my beach.”

I pulled away. “No, I will use the tunnel I found on my own to go to a beach far from you.”

His eyes widened. “And if I command it?”

“Try and stop me,” I challenged.

The same hum that had coiled around us on the beach picked up, lifting my hair. The sound of sand falling filled the space alongside the hum.

“You will use my beach,” Ulrich said slowly.

My body buzzed with his words, and I shook my head. “No.”

His grin went wide.

A deal .

The words infiltrated my mind, blocking out my thoughts. Then it was gone, as quickly as it came, and I glared at the king.

“No,” I repeated.

He blinked at me, taking a step back.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “I can’t save you should the need arise.”

“I only need saving from you, your grace,” I bit back.

“Words to regret, Ursa, ” Ulrich muttered.