They led us along graceful walkways within the castle, until the austere white stone was broken by the brilliance of elaborate tapestries in vivid colours and artworks of impossible beauty as we moved into the Royal Family’s personal chambers and the wing assigned to Rivyn and his wife. The colours were almost in defiance of the white, and I wondered at the artistic rebellion.
The rooms we entered were large, airy, with gauzy curtains at the doorways out onto private terraces. Large comfortable, cushioned seats were arranged in a companionable space and servants were placing an assortment of fruits and sliced meats and cheeses as well as bottles of wines upon the table.
“Please, join us,” Rivyn indicated for Aurien and I to be seated.
Aurien drew me with him and sat us together on a seat big enough for us both. Rivyn did likewise, his wife at his side. She regarded me with large expressive eyes, but did not speak, seeming content to let the Prince do so.