Page 163 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
A bare corridor greeted us, with a massive stone arch at the end. This one had been carved from red marble, with veins of purple stone spidering it. And they glowed.
The same shade of purple like the flashes that haunted me.
I froze, my gasp echoing around us.
“What’s wrong?” he asked instantly, freezing right alongside me.
“I–”It’s just stone. Weird stone. This whole crater is weird. “Nothing. It’s a strange place to be in as an outsider.”
What else could I say? I’m seeing strange lights that follow me and nobody else but a child noticed?
“Are you sure?” he asked after a beat. But his voice had changed.
Not tired, not cold.
Suspicious.
As if I had anything to hide.
As if I even could hide anything from those eyes of his, which I met head-on with my own stubborn gaze. “Yes.”
Yes, I was very sure I didn’t want to give him the true answer.
“Very well, then,” he said, sounding like he didn’t believe it.
We entered the final room in silence, a sudden tension dissipating the warmth which had been slowly building between us.
This space was one large oval, with an embossed sculpture of a fallen star leaving behind rays of rock carved right in the center of the wall.
Coffins lay in alcoves on its right and left, but these ones had statues of their occupants sculpted on the lids. Some had been fierce warriors, clutching their mighty swords and shields even in the afterlife. One had a newborn baby on her stomach and a crown of spikes on her head. Another held a staff in his hands, his beard carved down to his toes.
We placed our candles on the massive stone table waiting in the center. It was carved out of the same veined stone as the arch, its middle raised in a perfect circle surrounded by a moat.
The Commander stopped in front of an alcove right behind it. A woman had been carved on top of it, long hair cascading down the sides of the coffin. She held a huge broadsword to her chest, covered by a huge wildflower bouquet. Softness and brutality intertwined.
She had a soft face with a slow smile, as if the statue was forming it now, ready to come back to life and greet us.
The Commander gave a low, respectful bow and placed his hand on top of hers. “Hello, mother. Meet my future wife.”
I blinked up at him, shocked. He wasn’t joking.
This was serious.
What did one say to their dead future mother-in-law, exactly?
“What was her name?” I whispered, feeling the weight of the moment–I hadn’t even met Waden’s parents before he’d betrayed me–but I couldn’t shy away from it.
I saw from the way his eyes lingered on me, determined and unsure at the same time, that this meant a lot to him.
“Mireya Greycrest of the Nochtvir Dynasty,” he said the name like a prayer.
I stepped closer to him, steps heavy like I was walking toward an altar. I bowed in front of the coffin, the same way he did. “It’s my pleasure, Lady Mireya. May your soul be happy and peaceful among the gods.”
I straightened with a smile the Commander mirrored.
“You know what’s funny?” I asked.
“Careful what you say in front of my mother. She was fiercely protective.”
