It wasn’t the attendant that arrived first.  There was a rattle at the door and then a muffled voice from outside.  Olive couldn’t recognize the words, but she certainly knew the tone.  Someone was cursing under their breath.  There was a pause, a moment of quiet, and then a crash against the door that made her yelp in surprise.  Then, painfully, the door swung open on its hinges.  On the floor lay a shattered lock, at the feet of a man holding a sword.

Olive was frozen in place.  Her heart hammered in her chest.  She felt like a small rabbit in front of a hawk, looking for a place to flee.  The man grimaced and hastily sheathed his sword.  Then, he stepped inside her tiny room.

“Uh, hi,” she said weakly.

He ignored her.  Perhaps he couldn’t understand her, as Tiyrus could.  He stared at her instead, openly raking his eyes up and down, and he didn’t seem to like what he saw.  His lips were turned down into a dour grimace.  Other than his severe expression, he was quite handsome.  Dark red-brown hair, like dried rose petals, and striking amber eyes.  Did everyone here have unusual eye colors?  Or was it related to magic?  Was this a mage as well?

He wore sumptuous clothing.  A long tunic like Tiyrus’s, gray, but subtly embroidered with vines.  A jacket lay over top of that, landing just above the knee.  His boots were halfway up the shin and fastened tight around his calves with buttons inset with rubies.  Like Tiyrus, he wore a pin on his jacket, but it was worked in gold instead of silver.  Across his shoulders was draped a chain made of gold, alternating between the emblem of the sun and panels adorned with more rubies.  A single ruby teardrop dangled from one ear.  

Was he a noble?  Should she bow?  It all felt so unnatural to her and while she didn’t want to be difficult to the people who had taken her in, she also wasn’t particularly keen on how he was staring at her.  Like he was deeply unhappy at her mere existence.

Something flickered inside.  She knew that she could be… difficult.  Stubborn.  It wasn’t that she was trying to be confrontational, it was just that she had opinions and wanted them to be heard.

So when he stepped forwards, closing the distance between them, she held her ground.  Lifted her chin and stared him directly in the eyes.

Her heart hammered.  He was standing too close.  She could smell him, an earthy smell, with a hint of flowers.  Like he’d just come inside from a garden.  He raised a hand and she started to take a step back, then steeled herself.  No.  She wouldn’t be intimidated.  

He grabbed her chin.  It happened so fast she didn’t realize what was happening, not until his fingers were pressed against her skin, his forefinger resting on her cheek.  For a moment, she was too stunned to react.  Then, as he tilted her head slightly to better study the earrings she wore in one ear, her outrage asserted itself.

How dare he?

And she slapped his hand away.

“You don’t just touch someone like that!” she snapped.  

It didn’t matter if he understood her or not.  Her tone was enough to convey how angry she was and that was all she cared about.

He didn’t seem surprised.  He only dropped his hand to his side and looked at her for a moment.  The earlier tight anger was gone, replaced with a careful calculation.  Then he gave a soft laugh under his breath, then turned on his heel and briskly walked away.

Breathless, Olive sat down in the chair to recover her wits.  Just what was that all about?  Still, despite how unnerving the encounter was, there was at least one benefit.

The door lock was broken and the door hung open.  In fact, Olive realized after looking at it for a moment, she wasn’t sure it could close anymore.  She smiled to herself at that.  Should she stay here?  Wait for the attendant that Tiyrus had promised?

It wouldn’t do any harm to just look around outside a little bit, she thought.  She didn’t have to go far.  And even if she did, what could happen to her?  She was in a royal castle.  Perhaps she’d wander somewhere she shouldn’t be and the guards would return her to her room and that would be it.

She hurried from the room.  The hallway was plain and narrow, with arched recesses at periodic intervals that held candles.  There were no windows.  This was either underground or deep within the interior of the castle.  The stone floor was wretchedly cold beneath her bare feet, so she wanted to guess it was underground.  For a moment, she considered which direction she should go.  They both looked the same.

A brief flutter of movement caught her eye.  A sparkle from a boot as the wearer vanished around a corner.  The man from before hadn’t quite left yet.  Olive followed without hesitation, walking as quietly as she was able.  She felt a tremor of fear, but she pushed it down.  It would be fine.  She could always feign ignorance if someone got upset.

She followed the man up a spiral staircase.  There were a few more hallways and then she found herself in a far newer part of the castle.  The stone floor was replaced with carefully cut marble tiles.  Thick rugs ran down the center of the hallway.  There were tapestries and paintings on the walls.  Sculptures sat on pedestals.  There was a wide array of designs, a dazzling variety that baffled Olive until she remembered what Tiyrus had said.  Tribute.  All of this was tribute from an array of different cultures.

Her attention turned to the windows.  There were no candles here, for the windows stretched all the way to the arched ceiling and sunlight poured through.  She moved towards them, eager to see what the exterior of the castle looked like, when a voice stopped her.

She turned towards the speaker.  It was him again.  He watched her from the other end of the hallway and the sunlight made it seem like his amber eyes glowed from within.  Was he… waiting for her?  He gestured and while it was slightly different than what she was accustomed to, Olive recognized the intent.

He wanted her to follow him.