Page 133 of North Queen
“Say nothing. You’ll be salara and above all others.” His eyes were dark, but kind. “This is your home now. This castle is yours, and you can do in it what you’d like.”
“Thank you,” she said with a faint smile.
“Good day, North Queen.” He gave her a small nod and left her to her sanctuary.
Norah let out a breath and looked around again. A sanctuary. Unlike her room, it was whitewashed and bright. She opened the doors to the balcony and breathed in the winter. It didn’t seem quite so cold.
She made her way out of the chamber and back down the hall to where her guard and new maid waited. It was the kind guard—Kiran, she’d learned from Vitalia. Another guard stood with him; one she didn’t recognize. She decided to take the king up on his statement. She could do what she liked, and she’d like to look around. “I want to see the castle,” she told Vitalia. “Can you show me around?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the maid said with a nod. “You’ll love it. And just wait until you see Ashan.”
“Ashan?”
“The city. Right outside the castle.”
Therewasa city, Norah remembered. She wondered when she’d be able to explore it. The commander had told her she needed four guards to leave the castle, but she didn’t take that as open permission. That she felt she needed permission irked her, but she decided she’d take one thing at a time.
Norah made her way around, with Vitalia quietly answering her questions as they went. The maid’s knowledge surprised her, and she listened closely. The castle was beautiful, with its arched halls and intricately designed tilework, and she found herself admiring everything around her.
A large hanging portrait in the hall caught her eye and drew her closer in curiosity. Right away, she recognized Salara-Mae, and although it looked like Mikael beside her, it wasn’t.
“Salar’s father,” Vitalia told her. “Rhalstad Ratha Shal.”
Norah looked carefully at the intricate painting. The detail was so incredibly fine that it almost seemed real. Mikael’s resemblance to his father was undeniable, but the senior king wore his hair cropped short and his beard longer. On the side of his head ran a large scar, starting at his temple and stretching backward.
Norah let her eyes move to Salara-Mae, except she was Salara then, who looked quite young but still had an elegant sharpness to her face. She was beautiful, Norah mused. “Do you think they were happy together?” she asked.
“Who wouldn’t be happy serving their king?” a voice boomed from behind, and Norah spun to see the lord commander. He wasn’t wearing his wrap, and she wasn’t sure if she preferred to see his face or not. Well, she’d prefer not to see him at all. His two dogs followed obediently at his heel, their heads low, as though prowling on a hunt. They looked menacing. Like their master.
“What are you doing here?” he asked stiffly.
“I’m looking around the castle, as I was invited to,” she cut back. “If you have a problem with that, go talk to your king.”
His eyes darkened, then he said, “I have no problems with that. In fact, I’ll join you.”
Norah fumed. Of course, he knew exactly how to control her. “No need,” she said sharply. “I was just finishing.”
The corners of his lips turned up in a satisfied smirk, and Norah raged even more inside. She turned toward the hall to her left, not knowing where she was going, but she’d sort it out once she got away from him.
“Do you seek my bedchamber?” he asked cheekily, halting her step. “Because that’s all you’ll find that way.”
Norah’s face flushed with heat, and she glared at him as she turned and headed back the way she had come. Her steps quickened as her irritation grew to anger. She hated how he could get to her.
“Is he always so maddening?” she hissed at her guard when they were out of earshot.
“No, Your Majesty,” Kiran answered.
Norah puffed a breath in frustration. “That’s what you’re compelled to say, I suppose. And does he always have those wretched creatures?”
“Cusco and Cavaatsa? Yes, Your Majesty. He’s raised them from pups.”
Norah found it hard to imagine the lord commander raising and caring for anything. “What are they? Hunting dogs?” she asked.
“Hunters of men,” Vitalia mumbled.
Norah didn’t doubt it. She slowed as the hall turned to the left and brightened into a glass ambulatory. Her irritation dissipated as she marveled at the large white flowers lining the outside of the glass and casting whimsical shadows from the sun onto the stone floor. She knelt by the glass, amazed. “Flowers in the winter?” she breathed.
“Rhines,” Kiran told her. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
