I pondered who his woman might be. Surely Rylander had many lovers, but for the king to know about her, she must be special, possibly a royal. An image of Rylander wrapped in pale arms and privileged, uncalloused hands came unbidden. Disgust slithered into my belly and twisted. I blamed the feeling on hunger pains. Why would I care who Rylander bedded? He meant nothing to me. I’d prefer he get it out of his system before joining an all-female crew for a long journey at sea.

“You, too, Edgar. Leave us.” King Delphi flicked his hand toward the exit as if to hasten Edgar’s departure.

“But, Your Majesty…” Edgar’s colored eyelids narrowed on me. He didn’t trust me. Smart man.

King Delphi lifted his chin. “We shall be fine. Please, leave us.”

Edgar bowed to each of us in turn and left the throne room.

Once he passed through the door, the king placed his hand on my lower back, leading me out of the throne room through a back entrance. Though his touch was light, his palm warmed my tunic like a miniature sun.

We walked in eerie silence through the halls. My gaze flitted to the hundreds of trinkets and trappings in every direction. The crystal castle’s reputation for extravagant décor and lavish adornments hadn’t been exaggerated. Mosaics of griffins, Cava’s symbol, flew in etching on the floors. Gilded moldings framed the corridors’ red velour walls. From Midas’ touch to a Sisyphean task, Pandora’s box, and Achilles’ heel, the gods and their stories resided in the castle through sculptures, paintings, tapestries, and painted vases. I wondered if the gods adorned Mt. Olympus with equal veneration.

As I followed the king around the bend, the path narrowed like the tissues around my lungs. The weight of his silence pressurized the air, squeezing my ribcage in a relentless vise that would only release at the command of his voice. Strangely, it reminded me of the breathless moment trapped inside Rylander’s diamond eyes when we first met.

Subjects and servants milling between the dozens of rooms bowed as we took the corridor to the right, and the king finally spoke. “This is a wing dedicated to guests of the Royal Throne. You will reside here during your stay in my kingdom.”

I searched for Rylander standing in wait among the chatting noblewomen, bustling ladies’ maids, and a small group of noblemen sipping on crystal glasses of spirits.

The king studied me. “He is not here. He stays in the west wing with the royal family.”

My brow raised in question, but the king instead asked one of his own. “What do you know of your father’s death?”