Chapter 2 #2
I let her see the disgust on my face at that offer, even though we both knew it was an empty one.
There had been attempts to break the magic of the pageant before, but no other emperor had managed to find a Prophet powerful enough to do it.
The magic which bound the men who wished to marry into my bloodline was fierce indeed, possibly even dating back to the time when the gods walked among us freely, when the Fallen had wielded true power.
Magdor’s son had promptly been brought to the palace the moment Father had married her, and it had been more than obvious what her intentions were from the start.
She wanted me to marry him. But Kahn made my stomach turn.
I'd rather eat glass for the rest of time than marry him.
Of course, he was offering himself as a suitor in the pageant, so I might not get a choice in the matter.
Kahn was a beast of a Fae, his Affinities clearly for strength and fighting, and he wore his brutality like a coat of arms. He was oafish and crass, violent and vulgar, and even less appealing as a match for me than the prospect of having to marry a complete stranger.
It was ludicrous that he and the other suitors entering the pageant were willing to marry someone they had never seen, but I supposed the rumours about my unmatched beauty alongside the promise of claiming the throne one day was enough of a temptation for any high-born Fae to consider.
As it stood, it was not only illegal for men to see my face – barring my father – but it was punishable by death.
And to touch me would see that death drawn out and made into a spectacle for the entire kingdom.
I took the burden of those laws seriously and despite my hatred of the veil which I was constantly forced to hide beneath, I never took it off outside of my chambers for fear of causing the death of some innocent man whose only crime was to look in the wrong direction.
All of my attendants were women, so in private I got some respite from the weight of the veil against my features, but the guards were male – of course – and I had to cover my face just to walk past them.
It was a stupid, age-old tradition and I’d be ‘Unveiled’ at the pageant as part of my twenty-first birthday celebrations.
So, although I’d get to lay down the veil for good after that, I’d also be getting an unwanted husband along with it. It just didn’t seem like a fair trade.
I wanted so much more than a life shackled to a man who would rule over my kingdom and dangle me from his arm like a bauble to gloat over.
I wanted choices and freedom and more than anything, I just wanted to rule in my own right and do all the things my people would need me to do to make them prosper.
But those were the hopeless dreams of a forgotten girl laying hidden within a pretty vessel which had only one purpose.
“ Austyn ,” Magdor snarled.
She had a very short temper and I got to the end of her fuse at least five times a day.
My personal record had been a triumphant eight.
Though goading her often came with punishments harsh enough to make me regret my actions, I always found myself doing it again, unable to simply bow to the rules she laid out for me, or willingly accept this gilded cage of a life no matter how hopeless any kind of alternative may have seemed.
“You know, when you purse your lips like that, Magdor, they look like a cat's arsehole,” I responded airily, whirling away from her so my pale blue dress twirled around my legs.
“Watch your tongue, girl.” She hounded after me and I knew she'd come here for a reason.
She always beat about the bush, never getting to the point.
I wondered if it was because she liked the sound of her own voice so much, or maybe it was just because I was her favourite chew toy.
But since I'd reached adulthood, she was finding it harder and harder to get a rise out of me. I could bait her, but my own emotions stayed locked away deep inside where no one could find them, especially not her. My defiance, resistance and outrage kept company with my heartache and fear while in every spare moment I could claim, I tried my hardest to think up some way to change this fate I didn’t want to accept.
“You know blue doesn't suit you, I don't know why you insist on wearing it,” she said sharply.
“It's my favourite colour.”
“It washes you out.”
“I don't care,” I growled. “No man can look at me anyway.”
“They will,” she hissed.
“And I will be wearing blue when they do.” I smiled obnoxiously and her scowl deepened, etching lines into her smooth forehead.
She was achingly beautiful, and she knew it.
She used it like a weapon. My father had fallen for that face the day they’d met, and I’d vowed ever since that I’d never use my looks to manipulate anyone.
I wanted to be appreciated for merits beyond my appearance, but Magdor had never understood that.
She insisted that an Affinity for beauty was a powerful gift and that it was my duty to make use of it as much as I could.
I would have argued that beauty was skin deep and not a Fae Affinity at all, but who was I to question that when I looked at all she had achieved with hers?
Besides, it seemed to me that people liked to claim Affinities for every little thing these days, aching to connect to the legendary Fae of old.
But we weren’t like our ancestors anymore.
We didn’t wield magic or live for hundreds of years.
We weren’t at one with nature and we certainly weren’t the kind and gifted fair folk the old songs gave life to.
Legend had it that the fall of the Fae had started with a simple lie.
Our ancestors had been bound to the trait of honesty, but the stories said that a thousand years ago one of them had learned to lie.
And that was the beginning of the end for us.
Lies bred deception, greed and crime, they fed selfish desires and twisted the most sacred laws of our kind.
And so over years, as our purity faded in nature so too did our magic fade from our control.
Until we were just left with talents – or Affinities – for the things which we once may have held some magical control over.
I struggled to believe that my most meaningful power if I had been a Fae of old would have been in the features of my face, even if Magdor refused to see I had worth beyond that one physical attribute.
My truest Affinity, in my opinion, was the rare one I had with metal.
I could wield blades with the skill and proficiency of any of the royal guards, but the fact that I could protect myself was entirely dismissed, and Magdor forbade me from training, saying it was a waste of my time.
But I loved the feeling of a weapon in my hand, I swear that I could almost feel the soul of a blade as I wielded it and I refused to give that up.
So I practiced in secret whenever I got the opportunity because she could go to hell.
“Why do you bother practising sword fighting, Austyn? Your future husband will be adept at that.”
“Why do you read so much, my dear? Brains aren’t required of pretty faces.”
“Why ask about politics, my sweet? Laws are only made by men.”
I sneered at the echoes of the words she spoke so often as they pressed into my skull, refusing to accept them no matter how often she tried to drill them into me.
“Kahn would like to spend some time with you,” Magdor announced, making a prickle of apprehension and defiance race along my spine.
And there it was. The real reason she was here.
“That's against the rules,” I said firmly.
I didn't want Kahn sniffing around me any more than he already had.
And the rules of the competition stated that I didn't meet my suitors formally until the first day of the pageant. I had seen enough of Kahn’s hulking form, crude manners and brutish tendencies from afar to know that I had absolutely no desire to see them any closer.
Magdor smiled broadly, raising her hands in innocence. “Rules can be bent. I am your father's empress after all. In fact, I already mentioned it to him and he's quite delighted by the idea.”
I ground my teeth, working hard not to let her get under my skin.
But she was worming her way in there, and I didn't know if I could stop her this time.
If there was one way to upset me, it was by mentioning marriage.
And worse than that, marriage to Kahn . The oaf was the size of a mountain and his entire appearance screamed ogre.
Big ears, fat jaw, dumb face. If he had a personality in that thick skull of his, it was playing hide and seek and it was winning a twenty-six-year long game.
The thought of his greasy hands touching my flesh, of his huge body crushing me down into a bed while he grunted and thrusted his ogre cock into me just made me want to-
“I can see you're upset,” Magdor said, all sweetness now that she wanted something from me.
I wasn't going to agree to this if I got a choice. But if Father had given his consent, I didn't know how I could avoid it. I may have been all defiance and strength inside my head, but on the outside, I was just as I seemed: a trapped creature in a pretty cage with my life all mapped out for me.
“It's against the rules. I don't care what Father said. The people of Osaria would be outraged if Kahn was given an unfair advantage.” In all honesty, I didn't think it would be any kind of advantage to him.
If he came near me, all he was going to realise was how sick to the stomach he made me, not gain any kind of motivation to fight for our love or any nonsense like that.
Maybe throwing up in his face is key to him pulling out of the pageant though...
“It is not against the rules to be around a man who lives in the palace and who happens to come across you dining on the veranda,” Magdor said slyly.