16 You Have Eyes of Glass (1/2)
Arren's shadows pushed open the door and the room erupted in hushed whispers. Isilla stood, frozen in place by the sight of the throne room. Ahead of her, down a path created by rows of seats, each one occupied by a member of the Dark court sat the throne of the Mad King.
Smoke stone darkened and twisted into figures as it came closer to the King's seat. People in dark clothes held lamps on poles, the light flickering as they gently swung. The figures in the stone moved like ghosts, their faces seemed to be watching her. A tendril of shadow wrapped around her finger and she turned her focus to Arren, already a few steps ahead of her. Move, she thought, this is all to make you afraid, it's just a trick of the light.
She took a slow step forward. Her red gown seemed bright in comparison to the rest of the court and yet she still felt under dressed. The fine fabric of their clothing apparent, even to her untrained eye. Their jewels sparkled in the swaying light.
Her attention turned back to the throne as she neared it. The power that rolled from it unmistakable. The king's darkness pooled around his feet and down the steps to the floor, thick tentacles of nightmares. Isilla clasped her hands in front of her, startled by the resemblance of the man that sat before her, wrapped in stately robes, and her husband. King Ero shared all of his same facial features. A few creases around his eyes and mouth, some silver streaks in his hair. The eyes were the one, marked difference.
Where Arren's eyes were green flecked with deep brown his father's held no resemblance. Covered in shadow, the thick darkness twisted and glowed with a sick purple light. As Arren's had in that brief moment on their wedding night.Her breathing quickened and she dug her fingernails into her palm to calm her rising fear.
Behind the king stood Lehan, smiling, his own eyes holding the look of a cat who has just gotten into some cream.
She turned to her husband but was met with a wall. His face emotionless, lips straight, eyes empty.
He bowed low, ”Father, I would like to present my wife. The Princess Isilla.”
She stared at the ground and followed his example, spreading her skirts as was proper and dipping her head. When she came up she kept her eyes down.She focused on the shifting patterns of shadow under her feet. Anything not to look into his eyes.
”I know you,” the king said softly. It felt as if a bird were trapped in her chest, its fragile wings beating against her. At her feet Arren's shadows were beginning to surround her. Thin, but solid, traveling under her skirts, wrapping themselves around her ankles.
”You would have seen her portrait I think, Father. The engagement has been in the works for some time,” he said, his voice cold and final.
”Only she was meant to be my wife,” Lehan added.
”No,” Ero said thoughtfully, ”I know her from somewhere else. Take down your hair girl.”
She could feel Arren's eyes on her now. Her hands felt like ice as she began to pull the braid apart. The court giggled as her shock of soft red hair came undone and floated around her head. There were whispers, too low for her to follow the words. She blushed, swallowing nervous breaths, keeping her eyes on the carpet.
”Look at me,” Ero ordered.
Her breathing quickened as she looked up at the king. I won't be afraid, she thought forcing the bird in her chest to be still for just a moment, just long enough to give him what he wanted.
He leaned forward in his chair, his great robes moving with him. ”You have eyes of glass,” he whispered, ”I saw you in my dream. What were you doing there? What are you?”
”Father you saw her portrait. I had a reproduction sent to you weeks before she arrived. Perhaps all of this new business with the Light Realm has stirred the memory. But if you did see her, it means nothing. She is something called a dreamweaver. They can travel through dreams. It is harmless.”
”Harmless? Is that what they told you,” he laughed. ”I knew another like her, things like her used to walk in this realm too. She was a beautiful thing who could make the darkest fears play in all your dreams. She tried to drive my father to madness and he strangled her with his own hands.” He thought for a moment, ”She will be executed immediately.”
Panic shot through her, Arren's shadows wrapped themselves around her protectively.
”Impossible,” he said evenly, his voice steady, ”She cannot be executed. She is a member of the royal family. By marriage but it is all the same.”
The crowd began to whisper among themselves. Arren had openly defied his father.
”You dare go against my order?” Ero asked, amused more than angry.
”I would never, Father. However, it is a law that has been in effect for centuries. She is my wife. The marriage was consummated, her virtue proven. I will have her locked up if you would like but she cannot be killed. That is a crime.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as the king chuckled. ”For you, of all people, to lecture anyone on crimes. Of course, you are right. My son, always so well versed on the letter and rule of our laws. But a fool all the same. We breathe the power of nightmares. You don't think that this little dreamweaver was sent to disrupt that?”
”I think,” Arren said slowly, ”That you are placing more importance on a parlor trick than what is necessary.”