All but the pastures were located at the bottom of the cliff, on the shore of the lake. When the lightbearers first settled in this remote area, some five hundred years ago, that first king determined his home would be at the top, and everyone else would be below. A team of twenty laborers were tasked with building a staircase into the cliff face, so the king and his subjects could easily get to one another. The staircase lasted longer than that original home, but even that had to be repaired every so often. Each stair was wide and made of slate, and a wooden rail ran the length of the staircase. At this time of year, it was an easy ascent, although a long one. Olivia’s father waited at the top. He was still an attractive man, she noticed, as she forced herself not to cringe under his disapproving glare. His hair was still blond; his eyes were the same bright blue as her own. His face was fairly weathered, more from the sun than anything else. His reign had been, until now, calm and with very little trouble.
