“Too many.”
At her tone, and before I could reconsider it, a consideration flew from my lips. “In Estmere, it is not seen as untoward for a guest to be served privately by their host. As a way to ease them into their environment.”
Nerys stopped. For a moment, I thought she might chastise my forwardness, so I rushed to add, “I mean nothing untoward by such a suggestion.”
“Come,” she said in response. “This way.”
We walked silently through corridors of polished stone in shades of pearl and sea-green, ornate archways decorated with carvings of mythical sea creatures all along the way. Tall windows graced one side of the corridor, allowing moonlight to fill the space.
“It feels as if we are beneath the surface of the sea.”
A couple, both dressed as formally as Nerys, moved past us. My guide inclined her head in greeting as both the man and woman looked at me as if I did not belong here. Which, of course, I didn’t.
“Even when you do not see water, it’s there. There are hidden fountains and trickling aqueducts behind each wall. Take a deep breath,” Nerys said, her gown shimmering with each step.
“It smells like minerals and fresh water.”
“The very palace itself is alive and breathing in rhythm with the sea. If you feel as if you are inside it, that is intentional. Just as if you feel you are among the clouds in Aethralis.”
She stopped in front of a door. Opening it, Nerys stepped inside. It was a near replica of my own chamber, though larger, with a table in the corner, just beside a window that was nearly as large as the wall.
“We have a similar custom,” she said, gesturing to one of the seats at the pearl stone table. “Though I thought perhaps you wished to dine in the same hall as the queen.”
“I look forward to my audiences with her,” I said, sitting. “But would much prefer this.”
Nerys had made her way toward a wall. With a wave of her hand, what appeared to be a mirror suddenly rippled. I looked more closely. How was such a thing possible? The mirror had turned into water.
“My lady?” a faint, male voice asked.
“May I have wine and a meal for two, please?”
“Of course.”
As quickly as it appeared, the water was gone. I had to see for myself. Joining her, I studied the mirror that reflected back both of us. “What was that?”
“You’ve not seen mirror scrying before, then?”
Mirror scrying. I’d heard of it, of course. “I thought that skill was merely a legend?”
“I can assure you, it is very real.”
“And you are a Stormcaller as well?” I guessed.
“I am.”
Only the most powerful Thalassarians could become Stormcallers, many of whom worked at and for the palace. Of those, I guessed very few had the skill which was so difficult, not even the Keepers had seen it performed.
I’d have asked another question, but a knock on her door was followed by two servants who hardly looked my way. Putting trays of food and wine on the table, they left without so much as a cursory glance.
“They are trained to be discreet,” Nerys said, answering my silent question. “You must be hungry.”
I was more curious than hungry, but when we sat, my stomach disagreed. From salad to fresh fish, both platters were filled to the brim, reminding me that I hadn’t had a proper meal in days. Nerys poured us each the sapphire-colored wine Thalassaria was known for, though its sweetness, followed by a smoky aftertaste, took getting accustomed to.
“You are extremely powerful,” I said between bites.
“One of the women who trained me is descended from a line of highly skilled water-wielders.”
“Will you tell me of her?”