The Obsidian Marks ✔️

| Chapter Forty |

4,697.

Iliya lost herself among the amethyst and jade, eyes marking each and every quartz. She'd surely missed some, given her mind threatened to wander every few paces. Chunks of obsidian melted from her vision, disappearing into the grass and once night clung to their clothes like wet blankets, her gaze blurred.

Beside her, Sorein stayed eerily silent. He fidgeted with something inside his pocket, a rhythmic movement that was obscured by thick wool.

Of course he'd known it would be cold.

Azuris was bleeding into winter, as opposed to Chiori's sweeping summer.

When they approached a large castle with spiraling pyres and flat-top roofs, she froze. Admiring the carved archways and ancient engravings, Iliya held her breath as she took in the cold, gray stone constructing towering walls with plush moss pillowing either side of the walkway. Orderly wilderness.

Rugged with softer features.

Gems embossed the arches with wards etched beside them– burnt into the very rock itself. The path stretched into two, one leading to a statue of Heithos and another to Nimian, the goddess of life.

Their union created the Fae.

At least, that's what Iliya was told. Everything felt debatable, lined by the weight of her pack.

Before she knew it, they stepped silently into the castle halls. No servants or staff. The interior felt small and warm, paintings of the world lining the halls. Every country represented themselves in the subtle colors and landscapes.

Sorein gestured to a flight of stairs, curving as if carved from the walls themselves. He spoke in a dull whisper as he monotoned his instructions to Ezre, expressions tight.

Stay away from the East Wing.

An order.

The words struck a nerve in her chest.

Iliya drifted closer to his side, leaving the oddly comforting presence Noah provided at her side. He hadn't stepped more than a foot away since he'd caught her crying on the dock.

Surprisingly, Ezre hadn't even flinched at the command.

Elliott and Denick, the guard, followed Ezre through the chamber. Their voices disappeared in a faint echo, leaving the three of them standing there awkwardly.

"What now?" Iliya sighed, scrubbing the exhaustion from her eyes.

Her silent prayer for normality would go unanswered for several days, she was sure.

"Now you go to your rooms and we prepare for tomorrow," Sorein answered, his voice colder than before.

She frowned.

One moment, he's teasing her at the docks and offering lessons about the island. The next, he's aloof and jarring to share breath with.

"What's wrong?"

The Prince stiffened, his gaze locking onto hers.

"Sorein, I don't understand, what–"

"You should stop."

Iliya bristled, her eyes narrowing on him.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what? What's in the East Wing?"

Sorein jaw ground into itself.

Noah chuckled. "This never stops being uncomfortable, does it?"

She shot an apologetic glance at him, her attention still tethered to the strange emotions clouding Sorein's eyes. He was hiding something.