The Rise of the Dawnstar (The Avalonia Chronicles Book 2)

to dinner, and I took it, not wanting to be rude to our host. He had been hospitable, and it was good of him to warn us about what was happening in Neris. But I did think it was quite the coincidence he was traveling to Calos at around the same time we were. I shook my head as if to shake off the silly thoughts that entered. Coincidences happened all the time, but my intuition kept telling me I was not wrong to be suspicious.
The dining room was a large, high-ceilinged hall with intricately embroidered tapestries lining the cold stone walls. Four places had been set at one end of the massive oak dining table, which was beautifully decorated with flowers and large silver candelabras. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, and I was glad for it.
Brandon held my chair as I sat down next to Kalen and opposite Rafe, facing the three large windows shut against the biting chill of the mountain air. Huge brass chandeliers hung from the rafters of the ceiling, generously lit with thousands of candles that warmed the room with their golden glow.
Brandon took his place at the head of the table as white-gloved, liveried footmen stood in a line, each one holding a large platter topped with a silver-domed cloche to keep the food warm. Once we sat down they came over to serve us one by one, opening the cloches with a flourish and revealing the delicacies underneath.
Brandon looked amused at the portions I took on my plate, but I was so hungry and everything looked so good I couldn’t resist. There was fig-glazed roast pork with a rich red wine sauce, a chicken and leek pie with a buttery crust, honey-roasted vegetables, roast venison wrapped with crispy bacon, honey corn bread, lemon curd tarts, and steamed treacle pudding with a honeycomb cream. Brandon raised an eyebrow when I asked for my third helping of treacle pudding. Rafe, of course, was used to my appetite and seemed entertained by Brandon’s expression when I polished off all the food.
After dinner was done, Brandon walked us to our rooms himself through long, drafty corridors to the east wing, as moonlight bathed the old stone castle in a spectral white sheen.
“I know you must be tired, and I won’t keep you,” he said, bowing to me at the door of my room. “I will send your breakfast up to your room in the morning so you can rest. Take your time getting ready.”
Rafe ignored Brandon. “We will leave at daybreak, Aurora. The faster we get on that ship to Brandor, the better.”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” said Brandon, a wry smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
Rafe’s eyes narrowed.
Brandon took my hand gently and brought it to his lips, his cerulean-blue eyes never leaving mine. “The journey to Calos is not long. But I do look forward to getting to know you better, my lady.”
I could see Rafe scowl behind Brandon. Blushing, I gently pulled my hand away. “Thank you, Brandon. Goodnight, Rafe,” I said quickly and opened the door to my room.
It was big and ornate, with a large wooden four-poster bed hung with dark green velvet and trimmed with gold. There were only two windows, and they were shuttered. The castle, although warmed suitably by large stone fireplaces, had a very cold and dismal sense to it. It felt as if the rooms had never experienced any real warmth.
There was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” I called out, whirling around.
The door opened and two young housemaids came in, along with three footmen who were carrying a large wooden tub. They set it down in the center of the room and proceeded to fill it up.
A bath! That would be perfect. It had been days since I’d had a real bath, in a tub, with soap.
The maids insisted on helping me undress. They put me in the hot tub and soaped me with a lavender-scented soap from head to toe, washing all the dust and dirt of the long journey out of my hair.
The younger maid, who had soulful doe eyes under thick lashes, dressed me in a bright green robe and sat me down in front of the ornate dressing table, brushing my hair until it shone. “How lovely you look, my lady. I was shocked when his lordship asked us to open this room and clean it. It hasn’t been used for years.” She put the brush down. “Now, however, I can see why he wanted you in this special room.”
I turned to look at her, a sudden chill scuttling down my spine. “Why? Who did this room belong to?”
“This was the room of our mistress, the Lady Riora, madam,” said the older maid, looking down her hooked nose at me as she adjusted the white cap tied under her sharp chin. “Lord Delacourt’s late sister.”
Orange and gold flames flickered and crackled in the fireplace, which had recently been lit with dry wood, and I wondered why Brandon had put me here. Wouldn’t it have been easier to put me in smaller guest quarters? Sleeping in a dead woman’s room that hadn’t been used for over twenty years seemed too creepy.
I thanked them, shrugging off the eerie feeling that had crept into the room.
The maids had the tub cleared away just as another showed up with a little silver tray carrying a mug of warm vanilla milk, topped with thick cream and dusted with cinnamon.
Brandon was very generous. But what did he hope to gain by helping me?
I left the candles burning and shot a fire strike at the fireplace to reinforce the flames, and the fire roared to life. At least I was next door to Rafe and Kalen’s room—I was glad they were within shouting distance.
I had a few sips of milk and lay down on the plush bed, covering myself to my chin and snuggling under the warm blankets. I stared at the