Page 112 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
I glance at Legion, wondering if similar thoughts plague him. His face remains an impassive mask, betraying nothing. No wonder the Six kept their secrets in Elphyne for so long. He’s unreadable.
A shiver runs down my spine as the faintest whisper of crystal song reaches my ears. But as the carriage rolls to a stop and we alight, I realize the sound comes from the wisps powering the line, echoing Lady Nivene’s story.
I flush, remembering too late that our words in the carriage can be repeated. Legion, of course, never forgot. That’s why he told me to be quiet. Somehow, this knowledge draws me closer to him while we walk toward the palace entrance.
The night presses close as the palace staff greets us at the door, their smiles professional yet warm. Their simple, gray attire reminds me painfully of Sylvanar, and I push the thought aside.
Earl Larkspur addresses us. “Our steward will show you to your chambers. Any requests should go through him.” His gaze lingers on Legion. “You’re welcome to explore, but please join us for breakfast in the grand hall at dawn.”
As he walks away with his Shadow, the Earl’s shoulders slump, their footsteps the only sound in the hushed palace. The absence of Dagda’s stone melody hangs in the air like an unspoken lament.
I search Legion’s face for any reaction to the Earl’s distress. His features remain stoic, but there’s a new tightness around his eyes, a barely perceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth.
The steward clears his throat as he addresses the remaining group. “If you follow me, I’ll direct you to our finest accommodations.”
Our group dwindles as we move deeper into the palace. Alfie is the first to go, shooting me a dark, unreadable look as he closes his apartment door. What have I done now?
The crystal walls pulse with faint light as if alive and watchful. I force myself to play the dutiful Shadow, letting Legion handle all communication. Even when Dahlia enters Ignarius’s room while other Radiants take separate quarters from their Shadows, I bite back my questions.
Finally, only Legion and I remain. The steward directs us down a winding hall and then stops beside a small, unassuming door, his lips pursed with concern. “Are you quite certain, Knight Commander, you want this room?”
Legion’s eyes narrow. “It is vexing to explain myself.”
He dismisses the steward with a flick of his wrist, then places a palm on the door.
The steward gives me a nervous glance. “If you require anything?—”
“Yes, yes,” Legion cuts him off. “Pull the bell rope in the absence of the resonance network.”
An awkward beat passes before the steward retreats. Legion’s exhale is somewhere between relief and exasperation.
“Don’t dawdle, Willow,” he murmurs, pushing open the door.
I step inside, only to freeze after a few paces. My eyebrows shoot up as I take in our accommodations. Gone is the luxury of the palace. Instead, the room is small and simple, with a single window overlooking rugged cliffs and a vast ocean.
But it’s not the view that has me rooted to the spot. No, it’s the singular piece of furniture dominating the space . . .
There’s only one bed.
Chapter 46
Willow
Legion steps inside, closing the door with a heavy exhale. I watch him cautiously, still unsure what to make of him in this unfamiliar setting. He doesn’t look at me, instead taking a quick lap around the room. His graceful fingers traverse the wall every few steps as if listening for something. Curious, I mimic his actions, but it feels like an ordinary stone wall.
“Good,” he murmurs to himself. “Good.”
With another exhale, he crosses to the window and throws it open. A blast of cold air rushes in, carrying the tang of salt and the faint whisper of distant waves. Something in his posture relaxes, the taut line of his shoulders easing slightly. The wind tugs at his long, silken hair, sending it dancing around his face like living shadows.
I glance between Legion and the wall, then back to him. “What’s the deal with the walls?”
He answers without looking at me, his voice tight, “I had to be sure the resonance network didn’t extend to this room.”
“Resonance stones,” I mutter. “The bane of my existence.”
It clicks into place—the whispering walls outside, the feeling of being watched. The stone must be mined here.
“Ah,” I say, a slow grin forming. “You wanted privacy for us.”
