Chapter 18
Ryzen
Morning dawned quietly for once, no incessant chirping of birds on my window rails or whipping wind. The castle was warm enough most of the time but was nonetheless warded off against the harsh winds that wreaked the Valdare Mountain thanks to its altitude.
As I got dressed in a jacket of the deepest blue, I remembered that Rorcan was off somewhere with Elva and though he kept reminding me that it was nothing serious, it seemed anything but. I knew my brother, well enough to know that he would never let anyone close unless he was absolutely certain of every detail of their life.
The corridors were quiet as I walked through them, catching glimpses of the garden through the designs in the west bluestone walls. I had to leave for Ramshore in about fifteen minutes and was pondering the readying of my transport for the journey when Lyn’s long brown hair flashed in my mind. I wondered where she was right now.
And then I had an idea.
I found my feet taking me back the west section, the sunlight streaming in through the little decorative gaps in the wall making wonderful designs on the blue marble floors.
Within minutes, my fingers were gently rapping on her door as I heard a muffled “Coming!” from the other side.
“Ryzen,” she said on a breath as she opened the door, her hair tousled. “Good morning.”
“Morning Lyn,” I said as she led me inside. I narrowed my eyes at the sheets that were lying in a heap on the floor and the white nightdress that she was still not out of. In normal cases, I would be distracted by how thin the material was but that was before I caught sight of her face.
“Is something wrong?” I asked as I took in her red-rimmed eyes, so at contrast with the blue that now seemed dull.
She blanched for about a half second before she said tightly, “Not at all. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Why?” For once, I didn’t feel like making an inappropriate comment.
“Um…”
I shook my head in an attempt to clear it as I saw how she wrung her hands together.
“I’m prying.” Crossing my arms behind my back, I tried to keep my face blank.
Shaking her head, she said, “How can I help you?”
It was then I remembered what actually I was here for. “Right. I have some business to take care of in Ramshore, eastern coast of the Isles,” I began as she smoothed down her hair. “I was hoping maybe you’d like to come with me?”
She blinked. “You want… er, why may I ask?”
I shrugged, not letting on that I didn’t exactly have an answer.
“I prefer your company to my steward’s. He’s a bit of a bore when it comes to conversation.”
She laughed then, and I thought it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
~
Ramshore was situated at the eastern end of the Southern Isles, its waters a lovely shade of seafoam green. It was titled one of the most beautiful cities in all of the South, Riveria obviously being the first. And it was named rightly so.
Streets of cobblestone filled with music and the thick salty breeze, illuminated by dancing firelight all over. The people of Ramshore had always been happy, seeing as they had no shortage of food or wealth. Ramshore was where the most wealthiest of families resided, upper class ladies in gowns of the finest silks and the gentlemen in their famous suits of velvet, smoking chimneys out of their tobacco pipes.
But it was also one of the most dubious places after nightfall, predators of every kind out on the streets, smugglers and pirates. Cunning geniuses who would rob you blind of your money and get away with it with far too much ease.
The Steward of Ramshore was a family friend, Bastian Ptorik, a fine huntsman and a clever gambler. No matter that gambling was banned long ago in the South by my grandfather, the High King Jorei, he was unbothered by matters of the past and was quite eager about matters of state and his rise to power.
It was all these things I told Callyn as we sailed across the Alhara to our destination and she took in every word with genuine curiosity. I found myself unable to stop; unable to stop talking with her, unable to stop gazing at her as we docked at Ramshore.
She gasped as she took in the thick green forests that surrounded the city.
As we got down, the tiny seafoam waves rocked our boat, the color so alluring, the color the same as Lyn’s dress.
Bastian was waiting for us at the pier, clad in a suit of the darkest red velvet I’d seen, his midnight black eyes twinkling in delight.
“Looking mighty fine, Bas,” I said by way of greeting as we clapped hands.
“Looking well yourself Malavek.” I grinned at him as he ordered his men to take in our luggage to his estate where we’d be staying. “And who’s this lovely creature?” he asked, his gaze settling on Lyn, who gave him her hand and a polite smile.
“Ah, this is Callyn Alcoff. She’s a friend.”
Lyn cut her eyes to me at that, a question in them. I shook my head ever so lightly.
“I wasn’t aware you’d be bringing company to a routine visit,” he said, his eyes raking over her, her hand still in his, her skin so pale against his rich dark one. I had the sudden urge to bark at him.
“Like I said,” his eyes finally met mine at the slightly firm tone, “she’s a friend.”
He seemed to understand.
“Well then, welcome to Ramshore Ms. Alcoff.”
To be continued…