Daughter of Shades (The Venatrix Chronicles Book 1) by Sylvia Mercedes

Author:Sylvia Mercedes [Mercedes, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FireWyrm Books
Published: 2019-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

Ayleth left the prince’s presence so quickly, she did not realize until she stood in the corridor outside that she had no idea where she was meant to go next. The prince had invited both her and Venator Terryn to have a meal. A prince’s invitation was as good as a command, wasn’t it?

But where in the Haunts was she supposed to take this meal?

If she were in the wild forests of Drauval, she would be able to retrace her steps well enough. But in this labyrinth of a castle she felt turned around, lost. She’d focused so intently on the velvet-clad man and his pheasant embroidery, she’d not taken the care she should have in noting her trail.

She looked up and down the corridor for some sign of the other venator, but he had miraculously disappeared. Well, good. She had no desire to tag along in his footsteps anyway. Lifting her chin and deciding that it would be best to pick a direction, any direction, she chose to turn left and see where it took her.

The corridor led to what looked at first to be a dead end, but a cracked doorway revealed a narrow staircase. Probably a servants’ stair, but surely there was no harm in her using it. She was, after all a servant of the prince.

She met no one along the way and emerged a floor below in a passage with windows overlooking the lake along one wall, and pillars supporting the low ceiling. She took another left turn, stepping out of the pillared corridor into a long gallery. Here the windows were higher and narrower, casting enough light to fill the room but not enough to cause damage to the magnificent portraits displayed along both walls. In the gloom of falling evening these portraits were shadow-veiled, leaving Ayleth with only an impression of lordly men and women in various states of official dress. Gold flakes set in the paint caught what little light there was, creating an almost otherworldly shine of embellishment to elaborate collars, headdresses, and crowns.

This was definitely not where she was meant to be. With a muttered curse, Ayleth began to back out of the room, but her gaze caught on something at its far end. A single portrait illuminated by the last of the light falling through the nearest window.

Almost against her will, Ayleth stepped into the gallery, her boots clunking hollowly on the marble floor. From either side she felt the pressure of painted eyes watching her—glorious depictions of the Priestess Queens of ages past interspersed with images of the heroes and heroines of the Witch Wars. But none of these drew her attention, which remained fixed on that one image at the end of the hall.

On that one pair of captivating eyes.

This portrait was the largest of all—larger than life-size and displayed in a place of prominence. The background was black as a void, but this served only to make the golden hues of the central two figures that much more vivid, that much more radiant.

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