6. Ayna
Ayna
Life at Erina’s palace has become an endless sequence of dreading the next dose of the magic-nullifying drug. Had the substance at least made me delirious, I could have lived with it, but all it does is create endless hours of nausea and weakness.
The only good thing is that Ephegos has decided I’m no longer worth his time. He sends guards to inject me rather than bothering to do it himself. Then, when he was the one to dig the needle into my arm, at least, I knew where he was and what he was up to. These days, I have no indication of what the traitor Crow is doing, if he’s plotting new terrors, or if he’s simply waiting for his plans to come to fruition .
It’s been three weeks since my escape and recapture, and all I can show as progress is that I’ve learned that begging isn’t beneath me. Every day, Erina parades me in front of his court, and every day, I plead with the guard who escorts me to the reception rooms and formal banquets to check on Kaira for me when the king won’t allow me to see her. I’m not foolish enough to believe any of them will hear me. Their sepia palace guard uniforms tell all about where their loyalties lie. As for the blue-and-black uniforms of the military Ephegos now leads, they appear all too often in the pompous palace, shiny weapons on their belts and stern expressions on their faces as they scan the courtiers walking the hallways.
Today is no different. An older guard is escorting me to lunch with the King of Tavras, his lined face set in a stone-like mask and his hard blue eyes on the path ahead. It’s the third time he’s taking me. In the beginning, Erina tried to never have the same person accompany me, but it seems he’s run out of trustworthy men to haul me from room to room, so I’m starting to recognize the faces showing up at my door with orders to make sure I follow the king’s summons.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I frown at him, fighting to keep a dignified posture despite the weight of the drug lingering in my veins like lead. All I want is to lie down and curl up in a ball until it passes. One of the maids forced me to drink some water earlier so I wouldn’t faint, and as I notice the cluster of people by the throne room door, I wish I hadn’t and would lose consciousness instead of another moment under the scrutiny of Erina’s loyal followers .
The guard faces me, gray brows rising high on his forehead as if he can’t believe I spoke to him. “Lunch and a harp concert.”
I bubble a laugh that sounds like I swallowed dried moss, and his features turn into a grimace.
“Harps?”
The man nods, placing one hand on the pommel of his sword while he guides me along with his other hand. “Hurry, Lady Wolayna. Your future husband doesn’t take kindly to being left to wait.”
As we continue down the hallway, I spot Lady Andraya’s grizzled hair among the onlookers. Her dark eyes find mine across the room, and she inclines her head the way she did the last time I saw her.
“She’s a wild one, that lady,” the guard comments as he notes the direction of my gaze.
“Wild?” Another laugh—one of surprise—readies itself in my throat, but I bite it back for the benefit of keeping the casually neutral expression I’ve adopted as part of my being put on public display.
The man clears his throat. “A lady who oversees an entire port city? She’s powerful for sure. Did you know she used to live in Meer before she married?”
Lady Andraya and I have exchanged a few words over the past few days whenever she came to pay her respect to the king, but all I’ve learned so far is she speaks more boldly to the king than any other guest I’ve witnessed.
“Powerful,” I agree. “But wild?”
I’m not sure I imagine the blush on his cheeks as he turns to face the throne room door once more. At least, his grasp is gentle as he pulls me over the threshold, keeping up appearances that I’m here out of my own free will. Erina made it very clear to me that, if I as much as indicate that I’m a prisoner here, he’d make sure Kaira suffered.
So, I keep my silence, bound by invisible chains on my magic and my will.
“My name is Pouly, by the way.” The man doesn’t look at me as he introduces himself. “I will escort you again tomorrow.” It’s the last thing he says before releasing me into the throne room where the crowd of nobles curtseys and bows at the appearance of their future queen.
I don’t even have time to react; Erina is awaiting me on his throne, and the presence of dozens of armed men surrounding the room is enough to keep me in line. I stride up to the dais where Erina had a little table set for the two of us beside his throne.
“My lovely Ayna.” With a single gaze, he drinks in the low, gold-embroidered neckline of my sepia dress before he meets my eyes. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t join me today.”
“I’d never dare,” I whisper as he stands from his throne to meet me at the top stair as I climb up the dais.
“Because you know what I’ll do if you misbehave.” The glint of malice in his eyes is swallowed up by the practiced expression of regality, and I suppress a shudder at how easily he can hide his true nature. It’s a shift as severe as that of Myron between his fae form and bird form, but Erina is merely human, and that makes things so much worse.
I place my hand in his open palm and allow him to escort me to the table where I sit on a golden brocade chair and face the sepia and gold napkin draped across the gold-coated plate. Erina takes the seat across from me and waves a hand, gesturing for his guests to sit down at the tables scattered throughout the room. I catch a glimpse of Pouly standing against a nearby wall a few feet from the table where Lady Andraya is sneering at the revealing dress of a young woman.
In the far corner, two harps are set up with two chairs waiting for musicians to occupy them. I drown out the murmuring crowd by focusing on the open windows overlooking the gardens. Fall is creeping into this part of Tavras slower than farther up north, but the first signs are obvious. Not long and greens will turn to yellows and reds, then to browns like the death Erina is ready to bring upon the fairylands.
As if summoned by my thought, Erina brushes a finger along my forearm. “After the wedding, we can take strolls outside. But for now, I’d rather not give you another opportunity to sneak away.” The smile on his face makes me sick to my stomach.
Help me, I want to cry out. Anyone. Get me out of here. Get Kaira out first.
My words dry up at the image of my sister bleeding yet again because of me.
“We’ll take a nice little walk with your Flame friend, Ayna.” He only adds it to clarify she’d be there to carve open should I dare try anything.
“Will she attend our wedding?” I give him a bitter smile. “You know, the way you had planned to have King Myron attend.”
“Don’t speak his name in these halls, woman. There is a new King of Crows.” A clear warning, but not enough to make me believe what both Erina and Ephegos have been hoping: that Myron might be dead after all.
I feel him, though. In my tattoo, he’s ever-present like a soothing touch, like a tender stroke along my skin.
“Ephegos will never rule over the Crows. If anything, he’ll betray you the way he betrayed his own people. There is nothing in that male’s heart other than selfish hunger for power, and if you believe for one moment he won’t walk right over you the second he no longer has use for you, you believe wrong.”
It’s the most I’ve ever said to Erina and probably the most honest, so it’s no surprise he’s staring at me with those dark brown eyes that want to peel my skin away and shove every thought back into my skull.
“Well spoken, my lovely fiancée.” He leans in so his lips are at my ear, and I fight the urge to retch all over his pressed uniform. “Don’t think I don’t have an ace or two up my sleeve.”
No one hears our exchange—the distance to the other tables makes sure of it—but I can’t help wondering if one of the other nobles notices my discomfort at the king’s closeness—not that I shy away from him. I know better than to do that, but the tension doesn’t leave my body until Erina leans back in his chair and picks up his fork when a servant places a plate of fish and greens in front of him.
“Eat, Ayna. Who knows when’s the next time you’ll get a proper meal.” The way he says it informs me he has plans.
I do exactly as he says, eating the meal set in front of me with more enthusiasm than I feel. Any bit of strength I can gain will help me the moment I get out of here. If Kaira stays down in the dungeon any longer, she’ll lose even more weight and muscles, and it will be on me to drag her out of the palace. Because we will escape. I won’t accept another outcome.
By the time we reach dessert, two women in sepia and turquoise dresses have started playing the abandoned harps, the music a blend of traditional Tavrasian songs and something more melancholic that I can’t place. I’d ask Erina, but he bends closer as he notices where my attention lies and explains, “The music of Dunai, the heart of the Southern Continent.”
It’s only then that I notice the two women have darker features than Tavrasian folks from even the most southern parts of the realm.
“ Guests from our southern neighbors,” Erina adds with a smirk, and I realize they might be guests as much as I am. I don’t dare ask.
The way their fingers glide across the strings of their instruments is dizzying and exhilarating all at once, and for a moment, I wonder if this music holds magic of its own, a power that can’t be dulled by a drug made from Flame blood.
One of the players notices my stare, her black eyes snapping up without her fingers failing to continue the intricate melody. She inclines her head before turning to do the same with Erina.
I don’t know how long I listen to the music, escaping, if only in my thoughts, for a little while. In my mind, I conjure Myron’s face, his ocean blue eyes, his sharp features, silky black hair, the cords of muscles lining his arms and chest. The scent reminds me of wind and forest and freedom. As if in response, my shoulder tingles, and I can almost feel his touch on my skin. Heat flushes through my veins, and where weakness and fatigue reigned a moment ago, a sense of new strength fills me.
“Lady Wolayna.” The music has swept me away so thoroughly I barely notice Lady Andraya’s voice as she addresses me from the foot of the dais. “My apologies for disturbing you during this outstanding performance.” She curtsies briefly as I turn my focus on her. Today, the lady is dressed in a gown of bold azure and her neck loaded with thick golden necklaces and bracelets.
My gaze falls on my own wrist where a wide golden band hides my Fort Perenis tattoo.
“What is it you’d like to speak to my future wife about?” Erina inquires with less patience than any monarch should hold for his subjects.
Lady Andraya merely shakes her head. “I came to say goodbye. I’m needed back at home before the month ends, so I regret to inform you I won’t be able to attend your wedding.”
The strange thing about the situation is she is speaking only to me, even when her king is right next to me, demanding answers.
“What a shame I won’t see you in your wedding gown. I’m certain you’ll look even lovelier on your wedding day.” Her words are polite, cordial, but the expression in her eyes… Something about it is off, as if she is truly asking a question rather than paying me compliments .
“I can’t wait.” If only I could speak the truth. The way she keeps waiting, keeps her full attention on me while the rest of the room is captivated by the harp players, tells me there is more to it than a simple goodbye.
“It will be good to finally call her my wife,” Erina involves himself yet again in the conversation.
Graceful like a queen herself, Lady Andraya inclines her head at him and smiles. “I can imagine it will be a relief to finally call this lovely creature your own.”
Again, I don’t know if it’s only me, but I hear more meanings in her words than just what she says.
I can’t ask her for help in front of Erina. I can’t ask her for help at all, not even in a dark corner. If Erina ever finds out, he’ll make Kaira pay for my mistake. However, I can give her an indication that something is amiss. Just a tiny sign. Even if it won’t make a difference.
“I would have loved to see the ocean again before my wedding day,” I say as casually as I can manage.
Lady Andraya casts her gaze to the empty plate in front of me then to Erina, who is waiting on pins and needles for her response. He can’t hurt me here in the throne room in front of everyone, but he can hurt me later, have others hurt me for any word misspoken.
“I see.” It’s all the woman says before curtseying deeply to Erina. “Good luck, Your Majesty. You picked a beautiful wife. I hope you’ll be able to keep her.”
Before Erina can come up with a response, Lady Andraya strides away, crossing the room and vanishing out the door. I wait for Erina to call for the guards to stop her, to throw her in the dungeon, but all he does is stare—at me.
“The ocean?” His smile has slipped, and the wineglass in his hand seems forgotten.
I swallow the panic at what he might read into my silent cry for help. “I miss the waves and the endless blue on the horizon.” The shrug I muster is more to hide my shaking than because I feel it.
Erina dips his chin. “After the wedding, I’ll take you as a reward for being a good bride.”
I don’t believe a single word.