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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T he echoing boom of the outer gate lowering beyond the portcullis shattered my fragile sleep and I pushed myself up onto my elbows with a sense of certainty in my gut.

“He’s home,” I breathed, tossing the thick furs from my bed and scrambling to remove myself from the tangled sheets.

The door to my bedchamber was thrown wide and my handmaid, Getta, stumbled over her own feet as she hurried into the room, her dark hair twisted into a knot on the back of her head and eyes smudged with last night’s dark makeup.

“Is it him?” I barked, stripping out of my nightshirt and striding across the cold room towards her naked.

No matter the season, the Stone Castle never grew warm, and in the depths of winter, its grey walls seemed to suck the heat from the air itself.

There was no denying the beauty and majesty of this place perched upon the great land bridge which connected Mount Tilor and its smaller sibling Mount Hevast, but something about the hulking building meant it had never felt much like home to me despite the years I’d now spent living within its walls.

My rooms were adorned with portraits and tapestries, wildflowers of every variety blooming along the brickwork in shades of yellow, orange and red among a carpet of green moss, yet it still had a sense of emptiness to it.

Particularly in the years which had passed since my betrothed had set off to infiltrate the air kingdom stronghold of Ironwraith.

At first, the months had crawled along, then they had begun to drag.

I was an unwed bride, caught in the limbo of waiting for my betrothed to return from war.

It wasn’t an uncommon fate for those of us unsuited to join the warring armies, but most grooms returned to the homeland between battles at least long enough to complete their wedding vows and plant the seed of new life into the womb of the women left waiting for them.

I hadn’t even been able to follow my betrothed into war and earn my own esteem on the battlefield thanks to the condition which I had been born with, causing the degeneration in my bones which had already put a limp into my step despite me only being twenty-three in years.

So here I had festered in the cold and dank embrace of the Stone Castle in the heart of the Stonebreaker stronghold of Raglith – one of the five largest Earldoms in the land, and in my opinion, the greatest of them all.

Not that I’d been idle throughout the long delay for my betrothed’s return.

Though my scheming could wait its turn on the list of my priorities now.

“A single rider approaches from the north, Lady Septa,” Getta informed me while simultaneously hurrying to the chest which housed my best gowns.

“Word is that it can be no other than your Lord, for he is the only lone Stonebreaker they are awaiting a report from at The Horned Table this week – all other expected parties are far larger.”

I nodded, shaking out my red hair and crossing to the bowl of water which had been left out for me to bathe with last night. It was frigid now, of course, but I had no time to wait on someone to heat it for me.

I bit down on my tongue as I washed myself, Getta ripping the cloth from me the moment I was done and dropping it on the floor so that she could hoist the dress over my head.

The material was emerald green and sheer, allowing more than a glimpse of my naked skin through it as she pulled it down over my body. Only two thin strips of velvet hid my hardened nipples from view, the lines of thicker fabric meeting at my navel to create a sliver of modesty down my centre too.

I’d schemed and traded countless secrets to earn the coin for such a gown, but it had been a long three years awaiting my betrothed’s return, and I aimed to take him to my marriage bed as soon as possible.

Word had reached us almost a month ago of his imminent return, but the path across the northern lands of our great nation were rough going and hard passed, meaning I had been left awaiting his return more eagerly than ever in the intervening time.

Things had gone better than I’d hoped – rumours of his great accomplishments while spying on our enemies already having spread ahead of him.

I was eager to be there when Earl Tarlord received him and heard the full account of his tales.

Luckily, my years in the Stone Castle had been spent gaining the favour of the Earl and those he held closest. I was certain to be allowed to attend The Horned Table for the return of my soon-to-be husband.

Getta shoved me down into a chair and began combing my red hair with such vigour that I was surprised great clumps of it didn’t fall around my feet. I made no complaint as she tugged and twisted, placing a circlet of antlers over my brow before braiding my hair around it.

She stained my eyes with dark liner and lips with winter berry juice before yanking me to my feet and practically hurling me through the door.

I called my thanks to her over my shoulder as I began to hurry towards the Earl’s hall where he would be waiting to receive my betrothed.

Pain splintered up my right hip as I pushed myself faster than my body liked, and I curled my fingernails into my palm to distract myself from the agony of it.

I usually worked harder to hide my weaknesses but on this occasion, I cared more for my attendance than the whispers which might follow in my wake.

The curved corridors of the Stone Castle burrowed through the ground beneath the grand rooms above, no windows marking their grey walls, though plenty of greenery and flowing blossoms hung from the walls to add cheer to the gloom, thanks to the earth magic of our people.

I passed spiralling wooden stairwells which headed to the upper rooms but ignored them, my eyes fixed on the farthest of them all, the base of it marked by a pair of wooden stags who reared up to battle across the bottom step.

I winced from every step I took with my right leg but refused to slow my pace even a little.

The bells echoed out from the towers which lined the highest peaks of the castle, the tolls audible from miles around as they resonated through the valleys between the surrounding mountains.

A grin bit into my cheeks as I pushed myself harder.

The ringing of the bells was a great accolade reserved for only the most honoured warriors and they were tolling for the man who would soon be my husband.

Between his newly founded reputation and the connections and alliances I had been painstakingly forging for us in the Earl’s court, we were certain to be ranked among the most prestigious of families in the whole of Avanis.

I almost collapsed against the wooden stags as I reached them, my hand flying out to grasp the foreleg of the closest carved beast while I sucked a breath in through my teeth. I hadn’t taken my tincture in the rush to leave my chambers and I was already missing it desparately.

I dared a peek up at the twisting staircase which loomed ahead, the climb more daunting than I wished to admit. The great hall was on the seventh floor, and I was loitering below ground. Despite my best intentions, the climb to my destination seemed nigh on impossible now that I was facing it.

It wasn’t often I had to navigate my way to the highest floors of the castle, and when I did, I always planned for extra time, making certain to spend the day gradually moving between the upper floors one, or perhaps two, at a time so that I never had to embark upon a climb of more than a few storeys at once.

I had feared his arrival would come with such short notice but I hadn’t let myself balk at the prospect until now.

“Are you climbing, Lady Septa?” a low voice asked from behind me, and I flinched at the sound of August’s barely-concealed sneer. The Earl’s advisor was among the few in residence at the castle whom I’d failed to win over in my political games, and he was the last person I wished to see now.

“Just admiring this craftsmanship,” I said, relaxing my grip on the stag’s leg and running my fingers over the carved wood instead.

“All this time in Stone Castle and you’re yet to have gotten used to the grandeur and intricacies of the magic which surrounds you here? What a simple life you must have led before joining us.”

I bristled at his less-than-subtle jibe but refused to show any outward reaction to it, instead offering him a beaming smile.

“All the time in the world wouldn’t ever be enough to get used to the wonder of our Earl’s stronghold. Perhaps you might benefit from spending a little more time appreciating its splendour.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, his voice as oily slick as his dark hair which clung to his scalp as though afraid it might slide free at any given second.

“But in this moment, I am more concerned with hastening to The Horned Table to greet our esteemed warrior upon his return. I shall leave you to your admirations and see you at the summit – assuming you are not…waylaid by fate along the climb.”

I bit my tongue on a reply as August strode away up the stairs, his burgundy cloak sweeping out behind him, shrouding his narrow frame.

He was no warrior, but he was an acclaimed strategist as well as the Earl’s spymaster, always coming and going like smoke slipping between stones, appearing at a moment’s notice and then slipping away again just as fast. It was his plan which had seen my betrothed sent to Stormfell before I had manged to make it through my nuptials.

I had him to thank for the years spent lurking in this place, awaiting the return of my only hope for greatness in this life.

I hated to admit that my fate was so deftly tied to the prospects of my future husband, but despite my knack for political games and alliances, the truth was that my family had little left to us beyond our name.

Our fortune had run dry and we needed my marriage to return us to the position of power we’d once claimed.