Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 15

It was near dawn by the time Arysa neared the outskirts of Reldik city, one of the eight capitals of Rahaida. It was home to the Moonwick family, longstanding rivals with the Rosewoods, but loyal to the Royal line. They were the only noble family not to assist in active war or trade efforts and successfully walled off their city from the outside world.

The tall stone gateway was silent except for the beat of Xaro's hooves. The grass in the surrounding fields was yellow with death, and grain fields were empty but for dirt and dust. No one greeted her at the gates, and inside all was deathly still. The lower town seemed for all appearances empty and void of any life.

Arysa dismounted and made her way to the iron gates. She shook them to gauge their sturdiness, then called out in case anyone was nearby. There was no answer. Arysa stepped back and took stock of the situation. There was no other entrance into the city, and clearly no one had come by these gates in a very long time. She walked back to Xaro and led him towards the gates. She tied his reigns to one of the bars and fed him a biscuit to hold him over. Then she walked alongside the wall towards the section where the old battle of Dudain had taken place. Seventy years ago, the gates had stood there, but after the battle, they built up the wall where they'd stood and transferred the entrance to a place more defendable, but the wall here was still battered from the beating it had taken. Arysa adjusted her gloves and reached up to one of the jagged outcrops. She dug the toes of her boots into a weathered dent and began to climb. It was a long way up, and Arysa was already exhausted from the night's ride. When she finally reached the top she rolled over onto the parapet and breathed out a heavy breath. Her stomach rumbled and her heart pounded. She stared up at the stars and the cold wind ruffled her hood. Her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision before dragging herself off the walkway and using the roof of a nearby home to drop to the ground.

By the time Arysa reached the upper town, it was the darkest hour of the night, and dawn wasn't far off. Her legs burned and her breath trembled. She ached everywhere, and she had a hard time keeping her eyes open, but at least she was seeing signs of life. The streets were clean, and the homes and shops taken care of. There were brooms propped up alongside doors and curtains closed over windows. The fire bins were even still warm.

The Reldik castle loomed up ahead, darker than the night, its sharp-tipped spires like spears impaling the heavens. The style of this castle had always made her uneasy. It was too sharp and cold, decorated to look like the lair of some evil monster, not the home of a prestigious Rahaidan noble family, but the old Moonwicks wanted to dominate and impress, and they lived up to their goals.

The castle doors were sealed shut when Arysa approached, but two guards stood outside, sitting on the stone steps and playing a game of dice. They were too drunk to notice Arysa approaching, and only when she snatched their bottles out of their hands and tossed them over her shoulder did they realize she was there.

"Despicable." She sneered, watching with disdain as they stumbled to their feet and drew their swords. "You do realize we're at war, right? What good you'd do Lord Moonwick if half the city were dead in their beds before you even realized they were there?"

"Who even are you?" One of the guards asked. He squinted as he looked her up and down.

"I'm here to see Lord and Lady Moonwick. The King sent me."

The other guard scoffed. "The king?" He chuckled. "As if."

But the first pressed his lips together. "You got a seal?"

Arysa smiled and tugged her glove off. She slipped the royal seal off her finger and held it under the torchlight. The guards' eyes widened.

"Member of the royal court." The second breathed. "For real."