A Whisper of Night

20.2 || ZALYNE 🔥

"Paezdek Hall straight ahead!"

Zalyne stared at her feet as the wagon rumbled over yet another bump. It'd been a solid day of traveling already, although the better half of it had been spent trying to get across the rain-swollen Ava's River.

Nobody had spoken much since Zalyne and Brennia had entered. There were twelve girls in total, all of whom were small and scrawny. Brennia and Zalyne would've been more robust than all of them, had it not been for the alarming amount of weight they'd lost in the past weeks.

Paezdek Hall. Ominously enough, there were no legends - not even gruesome ones, whispered from ear to furtive ear - about the castle of Lady Aeslyn Norrayn. The silence seemed to possess more power than even the most awful stories of the Lion Queen.

There's power in silence, Zalyne reflected. She couldn't remember if somebody had told her that, or if she'd just thought of it by herself. She suspected the former; there was no such thing as an original thought.

The wagon rumbled to a halt. There were a few shouts outside, then a series of wet squelching. Somebody was coming for them. A ragged voice began filling the air with a simple tune, and Zalyne thought fleetingly of Luka....

Luka.

How long had it been since they'd last talked? Days, weeks, perhaps a month. She remembered how she'd argued with him right before she'd been kidnapped...he'd been so overbearing....

A sad smile twisted over her lips as she remembered his hotheaded wit, his musician's fingers. With a jolt, she realized she missed him: she missed talking to him, feeling his presence...she even missed his protectiveness. She wondered where he was now, although she suspected that he'd probably reached the Nightfire Isles already.

"Everybody out!"

One of the flags on the wagon swung open, revealing a patch of rain-soaked mud. A cold wind howled into the previously-stuffy interior, sending a racking wave of chills through Zalyne.

One by one, the girls shuffled out, leaping gingerly or stumbling into the mud. Brennia went before Zalyne, who barely managed to keep her footing as she landed.

Before her stood a fog-shrouded castle, barely half the size of Queen Lleona's palace. Zalyne could see a footpath winding up to the fortress, a series of lamps flickering weakly beneath the lashing rain like yellow eyes.

Flanked by a series of black-cloaked women, the line of new servants began trudging up to the castle.

Zalyne's heart hammered as they approached. She glanced around desperately for a way out, yet she knew that there'd be none - the castle itself was bound to be protected, and it was surrounded by three raging rivers. Unless she could smuggle herself out on a supply wagon, the way she'd escaped Aitma with Luka weeks ago, she was stuck here.

Then hopefully Lady Aeslyn won't recognize me...not if I keep to my duties....

She wondered if Queen Lleona was still looking for her, considering that Queen Astnorden now posed a real threat to her rule over Old Skeynvald. Maybe, by now, the Lion Queen would've already forgotten Zalyne's face....

But that had to be wishful thinking. Queen Lleona neither forgot nor forgave -

They stopped before the castle. The wind howled overhead, threatening to tear the flags from their posts and Zalyne's hair from her head. The flags featured the red lions of Queen Lleona, their manes as golden as the crowns atop their brows.

A gust of warmth met them as they entered.

At Zalyne's right, Brennia let out a soft moan. As quickly as possible, the servants entered the hall. The door boomed behind them, mercifully shutting out the cold.