“You were honest about one thing, however,” he told her, dipping his head low enough to keep the two of them at eye level. “I don’t want to bind to you any more than you want to bind to me. You are a child, Olena, always have been, and while I see Earth has done you some good, given you at least a slightly more witty tongue, I doubt it’s done enough to erase all of your many shortcomings.”
He took another step closer. He’d kill her if he got the chance; that was so clear now that she wondered how he’d managed to mask it from everyone well enough for them to think betrothing him to Olena was a good idea. No wonder the girl had run.
“If I wasn’t clear before, so long as the Rex is alive, I will follow through with his orders. I will bind my life to yours, but I won’t enjoy it, and unless you do exactly as you’re told, you won’t, either.”
He flicked at her navy T-shirt then, sneering. “Did you wear this as a peace offering, Olena? What a weak attempt to get me to believe your story. A festival? We both know you tried to run.” He slammed both palms against the wall at either side of her head with enough force that she bounced against it. “You can’t run from me, Lissa.”
“Zane Trystan, Lissa Olena.” Ruckus had appeared at the end of the hallway. He did not look happy, but he didn’t attempt to approach them. “We’ve landed, and the Basileus is requesting his daughter’s presence.”
“Of course.” Trystan smiled a wolfish grin and pulled back, straightening his shirt. He gave Delaney one last once-over, clearly not liking what he saw, and then stepped away. “I’m sure you can take her from here, Ander.”
Ruckus didn’t respond, and it didn’t seem like the Zane really expected him to, because he kept on his way without a backward glance.
The second the sounds of his retreating footsteps were no longer audible, Delaney let out the breath she’d been holding and slid down the wall to the floor.
“Are you all right?” Ruckus was kneeling in front of her in a matter of seconds.
“He’s”—she inhaled—“intense.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” he growled. “Another would be saying he’s an asshole.”
Seeing that the subject disturbed her, he stood, holding down a hand for her to take. Once he had her back on her feet, he didn’t let go, instead tightening his grip to keep her from pulling away.
With a frown, she met his gaze.
“We just need to meet with the Basileus, and then I’ll be able to take you home,” he promised. “All this will seem like a really bad dream in no time.”
“Yeah?” She tried to focus on his words and not how comforting it was to have his hand holding hers. “That’d be good.”
*
RUCKUS AND PETTUS led Delaney off the ship and down a long hallway that attached to the castle. They moved quickly, giving her only enough time to catch glimpses of the place as they wound their way through the vast halls.
The smell was strange, foreign, a bit like mothballs and evergreen, and she trailed after Ruckus quietly, checking out the guards they passed from the corners of her eyes. And they passed many.
At each entry and exit point, there were always at least two guards. They stood tall, shoulders back, sort of like the ones she’d seen guarding the queen of England in all the pictures. Except they didn’t have poofy hats, and she found she sort of wished they did. It would certainly ease some of the tension.
Their uniforms were similar to Ruckus’s in that they wore charcoal military pants tucked into boots. The buttoned-up jackets were different, however, skintight and the color of moss, with heavy gold accents strewn about. She’d expected to see more of the silver weapon Pettus had used back in the alley against the Tars, but if they had any weapons on them, they were well hidden.
Everyone dropped their chins to their chests in a bow when she passed, but the move was mechanical, like toy soldiers, and it creeped her out.
They finally stopped at a set of tall golden doors, and Ruckus reached for the handle.
“Wait here,” he told her and Pettus, opening it just enough for him to slip through without exposing the inside of the room.
“He needs to brief them,” Pettus explained quietly. “It’s best that he does that alone first.”
Right, because it was doubtful they’d react well to the news a human had been brought in their daughter’s stead.
Delaney kept silent, partly because she was unable to think of anything to say, and partly because she was afraid that if she did, she’d lose it. The more details she paid attention to in this castle, the more it sunk in that she was no longer on Earth. The walls were a material that’d been made to appear like wood but wasn’t. She could see the metallic sheen of it from where she stood, a few feet away.
Everything was done in earthy and metallic tones; even the lighting had a gold sheen to it.
The sudden opening of the door had her jumping, and she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment when she was met with Ruckus. His facial expression was tight, and he merely nodded at her and angled his head over his shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and then stepped beneath the archway.
The room was an office, with a fireplace to the right of the double doors and a small, round black table to the far right, big enough to seat five. At the center, positioned between two large bay windows that overlooked the sprawling yard, was a desk three times the size of any she’d seen before. Her gaze immediately landed on a tall man seated behind it; he had the same inky hair as Olena. A woman stood closely by his side, hands clasped before her.
There were no computers that she was used to, but a glass screen sat propped at an angle in front of where the man was sitting. She couldn’t make out what he was watching, and there was no sound, but movement on the other side of the glass clued her in that it was a video of sorts.
Ruckus came up to her then, lightly touching her elbow as he held his other hand out toward the pair. “May I introduce the Basileus Magnus Ond, and the Basilissa Tilda Ond.”
Delaney wasn’t sure what to do, so she tried a bow, grateful for Ruckus’s steadying grip on her arm when she almost wobbled. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there, pretending everything was fine, and hoped this conversation would end quickly.
She hoped they’d put her directly on a ship headed back home.
“Ander Ruckus tells us your name is Delaney.” The Basileus’s voice was sharp, though she got the feeling he was attempting—poorly—not to intimidate her.
“Delaney Grace, sir.” Was it appropriate to call him sir? He didn’t correct her.
Both he and the Basilissa took a moment to openly inspect her. There wasn’t much to look at, of course, seeing as how she appeared exactly as their daughter did on the outside, but she held still and waited for them to finish.
“The Sutter did this?” The Basilissa, Tilda, pursed her lips in either disgust or confusion. Delaney couldn’t tell which.
“It was his device,” Ruckus said carefully, “but it was stolen by the Lissa, who used it without Sutter Gibus’s knowledge.”
“And Trystan doesn’t seem to know?”