Black Ice ✓ | Deathsworn #1

Chapter 37 ∞ Witness

I didn't have time to comprehend what just occurred.

Before I realized it, we lurched forward from the nauseating void Amber had pulled me through. I found myself standing—or floating—under sultry, golden lights. I didn't recognize this place. The walls were lined with thin, bamboo strips and the floors were lain with soft, plush carpet. Sweet, red lanterns hang on the corners and a familiar scent wafted up my nose. Soft music floated around me, feeding my confusion. I looked back into the void we had just passed through as it faded, watching the distortion of space disappear along with it.

I then turned to Amber. He was already see-through and faint looking, but he was fading even more from my eyes as minutes ticked by.

"What happened back there?" I asked. "I'm confused. Did that boy see me? How was he even able to do that?"

"The boy is strong," Amber replied. He brushed his wrist across his eyes, his complexion paling. So, it was possible for phantoms with no physical body to turn pale. Or was it just how it seemed to me? "There are those occasional people who can see far beyond. You have that ability because of what you are, but people like those are rare."

"Like how I'm an aberration," I said softly. "Anyway, where are we?"

"We should be back where you live."

"Where I live?" I echoed. "But I don't know this—"

The music abruptly stopped playing and I heard a loud clatter—the sound of porcelain hitting the floor and breaking. Voices rose, high and angry. There was a commotion behind the wall.

"Dragons damn you! You dare insult me like this!"

"Try to make your move, Highness, and your body will be relieved of your head." I recognized Mistress Veronika's voice ring loud with threat.

Hearing the exchange, realization dawned on me. "This can't be..." I whispered.

Had we just appeared...into the entertainment hall?

I swallowed my shock.

I hadn't gone in here ever—except maybe those few times I tried sneaking in to take a look. Nevertheless, I stayed away from this place to respect my mistresses' wishes. Who knew I'd end up here somehow, just not the way I expected?

I hesitated for a few beats. Amber regarded me tiredly.

"I need to get you back to your body," he said.

"Just...a moment," I said.

I floated towards the wall and tested if I could pass through by sticking a finger towards it. Sure enough, I couldn't touch it at all. Mustering my courage, I slipped through. My eyes landed on a wide and very spacious room. There was a tiered pedestal on the very corner where my mistresses, all beautifully dressed and made up, sat in a straight line. They had on very elaborate layers of clothing framing their delicate figures, no doubt inspiring want and admiration from the men in the room.

However, that wasn't what it looked like when I came in.

There was anger and tension. Mistress Veronika's long, beautiful blade was pressed up against the neck of a man who was regarding Mistress Lamia with ire and displeasure. Mistress Lamia was just the snow lady she was—calm, domineering, and lofty. Her white hair spilled down her neck in bewitching curls. Her silence was icy, and her eyes were sharp with resolution. The most enchanting blue color lined her lower lids, enhancing her image.

"Do not forget where you are," said the man whose neck was at the teeth of Mistress Veronika's blade. He moved forward, feet kicking aside the broken teacup on the floor.