“A few days.”
A wave of panic washed through her. “A few days?” She wouldn’t even know her way around the castle properly within a few days. How could she be ready to be queen and stand against a monster the likes of what she’d seen tonight?
“I know it seems soon,” he tried to assure her, “but you’ll figure things out. You always do.”
Norah snorted in frustration. “I can’t even figure out how to keep my memory loss a secret. Did you speak to Adrian?”
Alexander nodded calmly. “He told me.”
“Talk about someone figuring things out. Well… he did. So did James. I hadn’t even said three sentences, and James… told me I was lying. Which I was.” She closed her eyes, silently cursing herself.
“Don’t fault yourself for Adrian and James. I should have told them. There was no way they wouldn’t have known something was wrong. They know you too well.”
She shook her head. “It’s more than just that. I can’t do this.”
Alexander leaned forward with his forearms on the edge of the desk. “Norah, you’re going to be a great queen.”
“You don’t know that,” she said, standing and bumping back the chair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Alexander moved to speak, but then stopped. The corner of his mouth curved into a slight smile. He rolled the documents in front of him into a leather binding and rose from the desk. “Come with me.”
His sudden pivot in the conversation made her brow dip with suspicion. “Where?” she asked.
“I want to show you something.”
She hoped it didn’t involve navigating back through a series of dark tunnels. Her gaze met Alexander’s. He offered his hand.
To hell if there were tunnels. She slipped her hand in his, and his skin warmed hers. It felt nice, and right.
He led her out of the study but paused in the hall. “Wait,” he said. “Where’s your guard?”
Norah twisted a little. “They… might… be back at my chamber door.”
“Back at your door?” His brow furrowed. “You’re alone? How did you slip out?”
She shrugged as she pursed her lips to the side. “Quietly?”
His jaw tightened, and the blue of his eyes burned brighter. Norah found herself not entirely annoyed at his concern. In fact, she wasn’t annoyed at all.
“Never mind for now,” he said. “Come on. We’ll discuss this later.”
She couldn’t help a small smile.
Alexander led her through several halls, which were lit only by the dim glow of candles in chandeliers. Their shadows danced against the stone. It was the first time he’d taken her hand, but he held it so naturally, like it belonged to him.
They came upon a guarded door, and Alexander nodded to the soldier, who stepped aside. He pushed it open and looked back at her, giving her a reassuring smile.
Through the door was another long hallway that led to another structure of the castle. They walked through the arched stone, finally coming to the hallway’s end. Ahead of them, the hall spilled into a vast, round chamber, with a glass ceiling dropping moonlight into the great room below.
“Watch your step,” he told her as he started down a spiral staircase to the bottom. His fingers tightened around hers to offer support.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
As they reached the bottom, she noted large openings carved into the walls. Each opening held a stone sarcophagus. Tombs. They were tombs. And there were so many.
“Is this supposed to lift my spirits?” she asked, raising a brow. “I share how I feel woefully inadequate, and you bring me to a room full of tombs?”
Alexander chuckled. “No. I mean, yes, it is supposed to lift your spirits. Although now I can understand how this might seem very odd.” He gave her hand a gentle pull. “But I want you to see something.”
She let him pull her farther into the chamber.
“This place is called the Hall of Souls. It’s the tomb of the kings of Mercia,” Alexander told her. “And queens.”
Despite being in the home of the dead in the darkness of night, there was a beauty to it. Intricate carvings lined the walls between the cists. In the center of the room were stairs to a small platform with a singular tomb that seemed to gleam under the rays of the moon. Inset in the stone were thick strips of wood engraved with scenes of battle triumphs.
“Here, look,” he said, leading her up the center stairs to the sarcophagus in the middle of the chamber. “Only the kings and queens of Mercia have come here, with the occasional stealthy lord justice.” His face held a smirk.
She smiled back.
He reached out and put his hand on the foot of the cist. “This is the tomb of King Hagen, the original great king of Mercia, who built this kingdom many generations before you. Put your hand here,” he said, touching the engraving at the foot.
She reached out and felt the wood inset. It was smooth, almost polished.
“What do you feel?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s… smooth.”
He took her hand and moved it further to the side. “And here?”
His touch was distracting, but she forced her mind to the carving. “Um… not as smooth?”
He nodded, his golden hair catching the moonlight from the windows above. “Think of how many men must have come here to ask King Hagen for strength, polishing this wood smooth with only the touch of their skin. How many hands does that take? How many touches?”
She moved her fingers back to the polished engraving, feeling its smoothness, to where her father must have touched and his father before him.
“See, Norah,” he said softly, “you aren’t the only one who’s thought yourself lost.”
The calm of reassurance settled her, and she looked at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alexander’s lips parted to say more, but then he stopped. She glanced down at her hand, still in his. It fit so perfectly, warm, protected, and safe—the way he made her feel.
“I should get you back to your chamber,” he said, finally breaking the spell.
Right. Her chamber. She felt a wave of disappointment, and it surprised her. She forced a nod, and he led her back the way they had come.
As they walked back to her chamber, she saw Titus’s posture shift before they even reached him. Seeing her outside—he hadn’t expected this.
“Sorry,” she mouthed to the large guard as they reached the door. She turned back to Alexander.
“Good night, Your Highness,” he told her. His formality had returned.
“Good night, Lord Justice.” She turned back toward her chamber. “Sorry,” she whispered again to Titus as she slipped past him and inside.
Chapter fifteen
The door to Norah’s chamber swung open. “Rise, child!” Catherine said as she swept in. “Quickly!”
Norah sat straight up in bed. Daylight shined through the window. Had she really slept until the sun had risen? She wiped her eyes. She’d slept—she’d actually slept. And it felt amazing.
“Quickly!” her grandmother pushed again as Rebecca hurried in with a dress.