Authors: Karpov Kinrade
Tags: #vampire, #paranormal romance, #fantasy romance, #twilight, #outlander, #demons, #Romance, #young adult romance, #vampire romance, #shifters, #fairies, #fae romance
I open it and see a four-poster canopy bed with cream and gold bedding. A fire roars opposite the window, and a small couch, chair and table are set to one side. An armoire and dresser with a vanity are set on the other.
"You have your own private washroom," he says, pointing to a door by the dresser. "I'll leave you to freshen up and then we venture forth. I've taken the liberty of providing suitable clothing for you. Please use them."
I look down at my jeans and t-shirt. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You are being presented to our people as the future Princess, and Queen. You cannot arrive looking as you do."
When he leaves, I drop my bag on the floor and look through the dresser and armoire. It is filled with silks and satins and shoes I'm not sure I could walk in. There's a knock at the door, and before I can answer an older woman enters. She's dressed in a long black dress that is entirely functional. Her hair is greying and pulled into a tight bun. "My name is Mrs. Landon, and I've been sent to help you dress," she says in a British accent.
"I'm quite sure I can dress on my own, but thank you."
"Nonsense," she says. "I'm here to help." She opens the armoire and pulls out a sleeveless white satin gown. "This goes well with your complexion. Now off with your clothes."
While I undress self-consciously, she hands me lace panties and shoes that match the dress. Once I've put on my undergarments, she has me step into the dress, then she buttons up the row of satin buttons on my back. There are no zippers, and I wonder how I'll ever get this off. Once she is done, she pulls my hair into a French twist and then directs me to sit in front of the vanity while she does my makeup. I barely recognize myself when she's done.
She hands me a long coat of soft white fur—faux I hope—and nods her head. "That will do well. Be off with you now. The Prince is waiting."
"Where am I to go?" I barely remember the layout of this place.
"Down the stairs. Just keep going down. You'll find a door at the bottom. Knock and he'll let you in."
I reach for my bag but she shakes her head. "You're not to bring anything with you. Just what you're wearing."
"Fine, but I want my necklace." I put the pendant on before she can protest, then pull the coat around my shoulders and leave the room. I find the winding stair case and follow it down. It stops at different levels in the mansion, but I keep walking until I find myself standing in front of an elaborate door carved from a very rich wood. I knock and wait. Asher opens. He's dressed formally, in a tuxedo of sorts, but not a modern one. It looks custom made and like something royalty would wear before clothing was mass produced.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees me. "You clean up quite well."
"I wasn't dirty," I say, stepping into the room with him.
It's nothing grand. A small room—relatively speaking—with stone walls, bookshelves lining them, a lone desk with a chair in the corner, and a mirror.
The mirror is the most remarkable piece. It's tall and smooth, made from a golden wood carved into beautiful images around the glass. Mermaids and dragons and fairies and all manner of fairytale scenes play out in the designs. I run a hand over the rich wood and shiver.
"That is our door to your new home," he says.
"Like a portal?"
"Exactly."
I can see myself in the mirror, my red lips and white dress, pale skin and black hair pulled up. Asher stands next to me, but he is invisible in the mirror. "So it's true? Vampires don't have reflections?"
"We can," he says. "Just not in mirrors. We'll show up in film and water reflections. But mirrors, all mirrors, are doorways to us, and thus do not allow reflections, but rather glimpses into another realm."
"So we could have gotten to your world through any mirror? Even one at my house?"
"We could get there using a pocket mirror if we so choose, though that manner of travel is a bit... pinched."
"Then why all this?" I ask, waving my hand at the extravagant mirror before us.
He shrugs. "What can I say? We have a flare for the dramatic. Are you ready?"
"If I'm not, would that change anything?"
"No. Not a thing. I was just trying to be polite."
"It doesn't suit you," I say.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Why can't I bring my own stuff?" I ask. I'm mostly missing my phone. My one life-line back to my friends and my mother.
"You will see soon enough. Modern technology does not work in our world. We cannot bring anything with us that was made with machines or advancements our world doesn't have."
I frown at that. "Why?"
"It's part of our curse."
He offers me his arm, and I take it, trying not to let my hand shake too much.
And then he pulls me into the mirror.
I close my eyes, half expecting to crash into glass, but instead I sink into thick liquid. It doesn't feel wet, and I can still breathe.
My head spins, and lights and shadows play against my eye lids. I'm scared to open my eyes, to see what I've committed my soul to.
"You can look now, Princess," Asher says. "You're home. Welcome to hell."
––––––––
"Beware the princes of hell."
—the Warden
I
open my
eyes and suck in my breath. I was expecting fire and brimstone. Pain and suffering. Endless torture. What I see is something out of a fairytale. We stand on the bank of a lake, having just stepped through a large, ornate mirror that matches the one in the mansion back home. It's night, and a full moon is out. Another moon, a crescent one, hovers by its side. The stars are bright and big in the dark sky, much larger than the ones in my world. Before us, water stretches out into the distance, shimmering in the moonlight, and beneath the dark surface something glows a pale blue.
"Those are moon fish," Asher says, noticing my stare.
I look around and see more of them. I want to dip my hand in to splash at them, but for all I know they are carnivorous and would eat me as much as play with me. It's a peaceful moment, but I haven't forgotten where I am and why.
"We don't call this place hell," Asher says. "Here, it is known as the Isle of Inferna." He turns back to the mirror we just came from and places a hand on it. When he pulls his hand away, the reflection of the mirror shifts, the glass swirling in colors until a new image appears. At first, I can't tell what I'm looking at.
"This is Inferna," Asher says, pointing to what I can now see is a map. It looks like a floating island with seven concentric rings in the middle. I touch the center, which all the rings seem to protect, and the map zooms in, showing me a three dimensional close up of a grand castle.
"That's High Castle," Asher says. "I will be taking you there directly."
I shift my finger to see a wider view again. "What are these circles?"
"Those are the seven realms, each ruled by one of the princes. There are other maps of our kingdom but it's best seen from an enchanted mirror. For safety reasons, however, there are no mirrors allowed within the realms. Anyone wishing to travel by the gateways must come here, to the edge of the outer region, and then use the canals to get where they wish to go."
That's when I see a boat float up to the shore and stop for us. "Aren't we a bit overdressed for travel by boat?"
There is snow on the ground, and my heel sinks into it as I follow Asher towards the boat. I would have stayed in my jeans if I'd known we'd be traveling this way.
He side-eyes me. "Your dress will be fine."
I sigh as Asher climbs in first. Colorful pillows are artfully arranged on the wooden seats, and the prince sinks into them, watching with amusement as I navigate my way onto the precarious floating wood. It sways and I stand still, one foot on land, one in the boat.
Asher chuckles. "It's charmed to always stay upright. You can't tip it if you tried." To prove his point—or terrify me—I'm honestly not sure which, he grabs the sides and shakes the boat.
It moves, but only a little. He grins. "See? You're safe."
Emboldened despite his attitude, I climb in and recline against my own pillows. They are surprisingly comfortable.
Asher says something under his breath once I'm settled and the boat begins to glide through the water. "I've never been on a boat before, but I'm pretty sure it usually involves motors or rowing."
"Your world may have the marvels of electronics, but we have magic. In a toss between the two, I'd always choose the latter."
My eyes widen. "Magic? Real magic?" For some reason, this is harder to grasp than demons and vampires, though I'm not sure why. Particularly since I just traveled to another world through an enchanted mirror.
"Real magic. Wielded carefully, of course. In the wrong hands, magic is dangerous. There are laws about the proper use of magic, for everyone's protection."
"So you can wield magic?"
"Not exactly. I—really anyone—can use a spell once it's been cast. But vampires and demons cannot cast magic."
"Then who casts the spells?"
"The Fae," he says, then falls silent.
I have so many more questions, but he doesn't seem to be of a mood to talk anymore, so I entertain myself by getting to know my new world. The lake we've been floating on has begun to narrow, taking us into a canal with forests on either side of us. We pass between two giant walls that span as far as I can see. At least six stories high, they seem carved from one mass of gray stone. Above us, connecting the two walls, hangs a metal gate forged from interlocking beams.
Asher notices me looking. "So we can close the canals during an attack."
"From who?" I ask.
"Enemies my people have made. They live in limbo, the Outlands, beyond these walls."
I raise an eyebrow. "And how often are you attacked?"
"There are occasional raids. But first, they must deal with the archers on the walls. If they make it past, then we have soldiers on the ground." He speaks casually, as if this is the day to day of his life. Will I too, one day, speak of raids and battle so easily?
We pass the walls, and the temperature drops, and I pull my coat around me, shivering at such a sudden change in climate.
"We've entered my brother's realm, the Prince of War," he says. "It's miserably cold here this time of year."
Majestic mountains topped with caps of snow reach into the sky, and trees so tall I can't see their tops line the shore. In the distance, a castle forged from stone is carved into the side of a massive peak. Purple flags fly from two towers, depicting a white wolf. "Do other people live here?" I wonder out loud.
"Yes. Each realm has its villages, its center, and its populace. Most are demons but there are other kinds here as well. It's important you always stay within the realms. We aren't the only race inhabiting this land, and believe it or not, we're the good guys. You don't want to go beyond the gates, if you value your life. Or your mother's."
Asher's voice drops to a low rumble, and I shiver at the weight in his words. What kinds of creatures live outside the realms that would have vampires scared of them? I can't even imagine. "Speaking of my mother, when will I get to see her?"
"We will head there first, to set your mind at ease. Then you will be assigned a realm to begin your stay with us. My brothers were meant to decide the order while I retrieved you."
"The order?"
Asher looks over at me and smirks. "Yes, the order. You must spend time with each of us before you make your choice. You'll have a month with each prince. At the end of the seven months, you will decide who amongst us will be your mate and future king."
"So my mother has to live as a prisoner for seven months? What if I decide sooner?"
His smirk disappears and he leans closer to me, his cologne making my head spin. "Be very careful, princess. My brothers are ruthless demons who have lived more lifetimes than you can imagine. They have their own agendas and will do whatever it takes to accomplish them. Do not be hasty in this. Not only are you sealing your own fate for all eternity, but our kingdom's as well."
"Why?"
He blinks. "Why what?"
"Why leave such an important decision to an ordinary human? Why not just fight it out or use magic or something to decide the next king?"
He leans back and crosses his hands over his lap. "Why indeed. For starters, you are far less ordinary than you imagine yourself to be. And then of course you know the rest of the answer." He chuckles. "You are the chosen one, there is a prophecy, and danger, and, of course, my sexy charms. Isn't that what you said in the hospital? You weren't wrong, princess. You weren't all the way right, but you weren't wrong."
I glare at him. "Thanks. That clears everything right up."
Our boat turns, and the landscape changes once again. It's still cold, but not nearly the frigid weather of before. We are no longer surrounded by the ruggedly wild forests. Instead, we travel through a city full of tall buildings that look grown from stone and trees. A white marble tower blocks out one of the moons, green vines spiraling up from its base. Immaculate gardens adorn almost every dwelling, full of silver and purple flowers, their sweet aromas fresh on the wind. Everything looks smooth and polished: elegant symbols carved into the walls, delicate archways crossing over cobbled streets. This time I do see an occasional person walking around, alone or with one or two others. It's late, but the city is lit with light from glowing blue orbs that seems to hover in the air. "What is this place?" I ask.
The prince smiles, and for the first time it seems to be with genuine pleasure. "This is my realm. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Very," I say honestly.
"It is my pride," he says, then laughs. "After all, I am the Prince of Pride."
I can't help but laugh with him at his own stupid humor, and for a moment we share in a very normal camaraderie of two people enjoying something lovely together.
"My location is less than optimal," he says, "placed between the wild lands of War and the dreariness of Envy. Honestly, he really needs to do something with his life. His land could be beautiful, in its own way. It's heavy with red clay that bleeds like blood into the snow in winter, and he gets the most dreadful storms, but the rock formations that litter his coast lines are actually quite dramatic and stunning, if paired with the right architecture. Unfortunately, he has no eye for design and thus his realm languishes under his artless care." His voice is full of dramatic despondency, like a petulant child who didn't get his choice of toy for the holiday. "You'll see what I mean soon enough. We're almost there."