12. Elara
Chapter 12
The horns announcing Aeinya’s arrival sounded shortly before noon.
I had been picking at my porridge in my room, the Boy standing near the door, when I had heard them echoing through the city from Turin’s Gate.
Aeinya had arrived.
I raced to the turret to try to get a glimpse of them winding through the streets as they made their way to the Runturin, but I couldn’t make out much more than the tops of their flags, the colors of Spryv reflecting red and gold sparks in the bright noonday sun.
Spryv was a desert land, the people mostly nomadic warriors the Ramal used to guard the borders of Okivo and Lyran. Everyone in Spryv was trained in an old fighting style Aeinya had shown me once or twice. I had tried to mimic it, but all I did was fall on my face.
It wasn’t the highly skilled warriors that made them prized, however, it was the dyes. The flowers they grew in Spryv were unique to the desert land and the only ones that could make reds, oranges, purples, yellows, and golden dyes as rich and bright. The dyes were so expensive they were a sign of wealth and royalty in every corner of the realm. Spryv showcased their skill in reds and golds, and it was those colors I saw weaving through the streets of Turin.
Soon, the colors of all the other houses would follow, each of them heading toward the Runturin for the wedding.
The Realm of Okivo had been united by the first Ramal, seven generations before I was born. Each house within the Realm was ruled by a different family, and each of those houses were loyal to my father, the current Ramal. As they would be loyal to Batian when he took the throne and shed his name to become the next Ramal.
The House of Calyn to the west were the makers of the ships for the Ramal’s navy and brought goods from distant lands. The house of Durwyn in the south created most of the elaborate wood creations that graced the halls of all the wealthiest estates. The house of Syran were the fishers and were known by their Qits that float on the waves. Then there were Aeinya’s family in the house of Spryv, the desert dwellers who fight on dunes, spin glass, and create elaborate dyes.
I had seen each of the four houses on maps enough I knew where they were, I had been drilled on what they were, and I knew more about Spryv than any other, if only because of Aeinya. I had grown up with her telling me the stories of her home; of the hot sands, and the far glass mountains, of the giant winged Wyverns that lived there. It all seemed so magical. Of course, everything seemed magical when one is locked behind the high walls of a castle fortress.
So many houses in the realm, so many high born males, so many other kingdoms, and among them, somewhere, was the house who rejected me.
It had been days, but it still stung, probably always would. Everyone thought I was broken and sickly, and now I would never escape it.
I pulled the weed out of the ground with more force than I had been intending as I pushed the thought from my mind and went back to trimming and cultivating the wall of tomatoes I was currently hiding behind.
After I couldn’t see anything from the turret, I came down to the garden, my usual haunt close enough I could possibly sneak a peek through the yellowing foliage as they moved into the main courtyard. Fall was biting the air, that beautiful aroma of soil clinging to everything as it turned the leaves red and gold before they dropped to the ground. There wasn’t much foliage left, but there was enough to at least keep me mostly hidden. At least, that was my hope. Mine and at least twenty other servants who now milled around me.
I would have perfectly blended in wearing my cotton dress if it wasn’t for the Boy who stood directly behind me, hand on the snake pommel of his sword as he looked around nervously.
“Don’t worry,” I hissed up at him for the hundredth time. “No one will realize we aren’t in our room. They are all out there.”
I gestured toward the courtyard, where the Ramal, Queen, and Crowned Prince had made their appearance to prepare for Aeinya’s arrival. My family. Right there. And I was hiding behind tomatoes.
Of course, I was technically supposed to be in my room, where I had been ordered to remain after the fiasco of trying to dress up and walking in on my father, who was currently leaning against a cane as my Uncle Jahn placed his bare fingertips on my father’s hands.
Staying in one place never ended well for me. I had been ordered to stay in my room for most of my life, and I always found my way out. You would think they would come up with another way to restrain me by now. Maybe they had given up trying, like everything else.
I should have dressed up in one of those stupid gowns and invited myself up to the welcome, but Batian had asked me to let him handle it. So, I had.
Not that it had allowed me to be there. It wasn’t his fault, though. I was sure he had tried.
“Batian looks nice,” I mumbled, my heart aching as I watched him straighten his white tunic and triple check that his golden cape was placed just the way he usually had it. He was even wearing the same white boots he had the other day, the high leather polished and gleaming. He stood there, smiling, even as he hissed something at Mother.
Her face darkened and she hissed back, pointing from Father to the high walls of the Runturin. Actually, she was pointing toward where my room was in the Runturin.
“Oh, shit,” I yelped, a few of the servants turning toward me in shock.
“Shit. Is one way to put it.” I turned at the female voice, to the woman who was thankfully laughing even though my heart absolutely dropped at seeing her there.
Dressed in her Catalysts’ reds, Batian’s Catalyst stood there, right beside the Boy. On the other side of her, my mothers’ Catalyst stood, face partially shrouded, red cloak and regalia sagging on her bony frame. Some auburn hair had come loose from her knot and was peeking out from behind her hood.
‘Oh shit’ was right.
They were quite the scene, red, black, red, all shrouded and ominous looking. Well, except for Batian’s Catalyst who smiled as much as Batian did.
“We have been looking for you, Princess.” She held her hand out to me, a few of the servants on either side of me shrinking away as though they hadn’t realized who I was until that moment.
They may play it up, but they knew, they simply didn’t want to get in trouble for ignoring my presence when I clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Why exactly were you looking for me?” I didn’t take her hand yet, just stared at it.
I knew exactly why they had been looking for me. There was no way this was going to end well.
“Batian has requested your presence alongside him when his bride arrives.”
Oh, I hadn’t expected that. I looked back through the tomatoes, to Batian who was speaking to Uncle Jahn in a clear panic.
No wonder they were arguing. Of all the times for me to sneak out…
I was pretty sure my stomach was trying to exit my body through the bottom of my feet.
“Why does this always happen when I’m covered in mud?” I asked, looking down at the dress that was once again smudged with dirt. I was two for two. At least the hem wasn’t ripped out on this dress, not that it made me presentable.
Mother’s warning from before was clear, and this was not going to work.
“I need to change.” I was firm, hoping I sounded authoritative and princess-like. Catalysts were supposed to listen to their uppers after all.
“No, my lady.” She didn’t even flinch. “We have only minutes.”
I raised an eyebrow, looking at the Boy who I couldn’t be sure was looking at me or not. No one had called me ‘my lady’ in years. It sounded as though I was being scolded like I had when I was little. Which I would be even more when I arrived in yet another cotton dress smudged with mud. Just like the rest of me. I looked at my hands, there was no salvaging that.
“Well, lead the way.”
She nodded her head, leading me out of the gardens as the Boy and my mother’s Catalyst followed from behind. Everyone’s heads turned as we left, eyes wide before snapping back to the foliage and the courtyard beyond.
I felt like a prisoner, being led to the gallows. Maybe I was, this event was huge and the first big step in Batian’s wedding, and this was how I was arriving. Not only would I make a fool of myself, but I would make a fool of the rest of them. As Mother always said I did.
This would not do. This was my chance to get back into Batian’s wedding. By the Goddess, I could not show up like this.
“Actually, I think it would be better if I change. Better dressed properly and late than to arrive like this.” I made to turn down a side corridor, but Batian's Catalyst cut me off, her lips pulled into a line as she prepared to haul me back.
“As I said we have been looking–”
“What do you think, Boy?” I turned, ready to get him on my side, but he wasn’t even paying attention.
His focus was on my mother’s Catalyst, both his and hers hands flying through the air as if in a dance.I stopped in place, the two of them running into me before they turned, their hands dropping to their sides.
“You can talk?” I whispered, unsure of the word choice as I glanced from the Boy to my mother’s Catalyst. Her one visible eye was an absolutely stunning shade of green, like the sun when it shines through bottle glass right before it sets.
“You can talk?” I asked again, trying to move my hands as they did to explain what I meant. Talk really wasn’t the right word. Neither of them moved, their hands still plastered to their sides.
“We don’t have time!” Batian’s Catalyst cut in with a near shriek, pulling my arm around with such force that she was clearly intent on dragging me there. “We must hurry.”
She was already trying to work her way into a run when I pulled away.
“I understand that, but I have time. I have to change.” Late and dressed was better than showing up like this, especially if I wanted to even have a chance to attend anything else.
I gave her a sympathetic smile before I turned again, this time running down the hall before she could stop me.
“My lady!”
“I haven’t even heard the gates yet!” I yelled as I bolted down the hall, yelling back to her right before I turned the corner. “Go tell him I’m coming!”
I ran, only vaguely aware the Boy and my mother’s Catalyst were following behind me. This was it, my one chance. I could not mess this up.
The sound of shoes echoed everywhere as I took one corner, then another. Even with my mother’s Catalyst following I took the chance and wound my way up the hidden spiral staircase I had used for years to escape the prison of my room. One curling flight of stairs later and we emerged in the sitting area.
I was well aware I may have lost that escape route forever with her in tow, but this would be worth it. Batian had found a way to get me there, and if I wanted to stay there, I needed to look the part. Well, as much as I could anyway.
I didn’t have time to find my way into one of the fancy dresses, but a clean dress was better than no dress at all.
I had just shimmied out of my dirty gray dress when the sound of the horns at the Runturin gate echoed from the courtyard below. I grabbed my last clean dress, the yellow cotton, only to have a hand press over mine, the soft, warm skin of my mothers’ Catalyst freezing me in place as she strode by me, grabbing the bright green dress from the ‘princess side’ of my closet.
“I don’t have time,” I moaned, going back for the yellow cotton.
She gestured from her to the dress to me, continuing to pull it off the hanger as she stepped out of the closet and worked to bunch up the massive length of fabric that made up the skirt. I hesitated only a second, she hadn’t grabbed the silk petticoats or the torturous corset, only the dress, which I guessed worked just as well seeing as that’s what everyone would see anyway.
She slid it over my head, smoothing out the skirts as I slipped my arms into place, all of the fabric falling right where it was supposed to even without all the fancy underpinnings.
The color was a deep emerald, embroidery and jewelry lining each seam and falling from the waist like a rainstorm of glittering perfection. It was obviously expensive. It was also beautiful, made more so against the wild curls of my hair. I flattened the soft fabric down, the callouses and dirty patches on my hands catching on the expensive silk.
Perhaps I should not touch anything and try not to show anyone my hands. Or my shoes, which my big toe was currently trying to break free from. I could only hope the dress was ostentatious enough that no one would look anywhere else.
She gestured toward the door, the Boy already holding open the hidden staircase as we ran back down, racing through the hallways as my mother’s Catalyst buttoned and tied and secured every fastener of the dress into place.
The horns had ended, the loud booming voice of presentation was already fading away into wild applause as I burst through the double doors in the courtyard, the Boy plowing ahead as he broke through the crowd of the court men and ladies who had come to welcome Aeinya and her family.
They swore and scoffed and guffawed as we broke past, my status not enough to excuse what was obviously very bad behavior. My mother’s Catalyst fell into the line of red behind the Requisites as we reached the welcome line, me stepping into the hollow beside Batian, the Boy falling into place right beside me as Aeinya’s father reached the place I was supposed to be.
“And, uh… Princess, Elara,” the caller said in shock as I stepped into place right at the last moment.
Everyone turned at the announcement, faces appearing an array of confused, shocked, overjoyed, and in the case of Mother: furious. I stood there, plastering a smile on my face as I tried desperately to control my breathing, and not look like I had run the length of the Runturin just to put on a pretty dress.
Trying to exhale like a princess, I bowed my head to Aeinya’s father, giving him a small curtsy as I had been trained to do so long ago. Thankfully, for the first time in about as long I didn’t even so much as wobble. He grinned, looking me up and down as he returned the greeting.
By the Goddess! Please don’t let my dress be inside out. With how he was looking at me it was a concern.
Thankfully, everything seemed to be in place.
“Nice to see you up and about, Princess,” he was smug, my title on his lips appearing to burn him. Thankfully, he did not ask for my hand to kiss. I kept them behind my back as I tried to wipe the dirt from them.
I smiled, and batted my eyelashes in a way I hoped was princessy. I didn’t know what was princessy anymore, but I had a feeling if I opened my mouth to talk I would be wrapped in a coughing fit, a real one, with how my lungs were aching.
“I’m glad you made it,” Batian said, his voice kind as he bowed to Aeinya’s mother, his future mother-in-law, the High Lady of Spryv. Her hair was white and grey, the tone stark against the deep brown tone of her skin, all of it set beautifully against the tight fitting red dress she wore. Unlike many in her court she had remained in the style of the desert people. Something which she may have been regretting with how her jaw tightened. She forced a grin, clasping his hand eagerly before darting back into the thin cloak she was trying to find warmth in. They were clearly not used to the cold that was already starting to bite the air.
“We are so happy to be here at last,” her voice was high and airy, her smile wide. Well, it was, until she turned to me, her expression fading to a sneer at the absolute mess of my hair.
“You must be Elara.” The High Lady of Spryv was not happy to see me. I guess the mothers across the realm had something in common. I took a deep breath, my lungs thankfully not burning anymore.
“Yes, my lady, it’s a pleasure.” I was still trying to regulate my breathing as I curtsied and she stepped aside to allow Aeinya’s two younger brothers by. The twins shook hands and bowed as though on cue. They were perfect little Requisites, their Catalysts right behind them. They didn’t appear to be shivering, but they were moving enough they were possibly their own heaters.
All that remained was Aeinya, dressed in the biggest yellow dress I had ever seen. It fit her like a glove, the yellow working with her shimmering blonde hair in a perfect duet. Aeinya had always had grace and style, she was clearly born to the role she was about to take. There wasn’t even a shiver as she swayed her way over.
Her catalyst stood off to the side with her parents’ Catalysts. They had clearly kept them there as a show of strength and connection. I could have sworn the line of red behind us took a step back, as though it was a competition.
Thank the Goddess I had changed my dress. Aeinya was demure and beautiful and perfect; and even in my fancy dress I felt out of place beside her.
“My liege.” Her voice was as silken as her dress, her hand a pale flower as she extended it toward him. He took it, lifting her hand to him and kissing her lightly on the bridge of her knuckles.
“My future bride.”
With that, the week of celebrations leading to the day's long wedding ceremony began. The courtyard erupted in cheers, all of the Lords and Ladies of the court clapping as the people of Turin who had flooded the courtyard waved banners and screamed in excitement.
It probably wasn’t princess-like, but I didn’t care, I clapped and hollered right along with them, which earned me the biggest grin from Aeinya who grabbed my elbows. She probably wouldn’t care if my hands were covered in dirt, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Tomorrow. Same place,” she half whispered, my heart soaring at what was about to happen. My brother was marrying my best friend, and the early morning walks in the garden we had adopted so long ago were going to be a real thing. I was going to be a real thing.
Who cared about men canceling contracts if everything else was as it should be.
Aeinya’s brown eyes smiled as she turned back to Batian, every inch of her glowing as they stared at each other as though there was no one else in the world. It was almost enough to make one sick. If, of course, it wasn’t so perfectly beautiful.
I hollered again, only to stop myself when Mother turned my way. Right. I needed to behave if I wanted this to go my way.
Be a Princess, Elara.
“Now, let us eat!” the caller’s voice boomed over the courtyard, the people of Turin still shouting and waving flags even as we all turned and flooded toward the massive stone doors of the Runturin.
The doors were always closed in time of war or when the royal family was away, and open when they were home and in peace. They were meant as a symbol of servitude and availability to the land the Ramal rules. They had been closed for years, since Father’s health had been declining, but today both were thrown wide to allow us entry into the great hall, and into the banquet beyond where I could smell the piles of meats and fruits.
My stomach was already twisting in need. The daily porridge I was given would be a distant memory with this feast.
My skirts swayed as I followed Batian and Aeinya in, Batian standing all tall and proper even as they laughed. They really were the perfect match. Always happy, always smiling.
“Did you really think if you put on yet another of those dresses it would make a difference?” The sneer cut through me like the ice it was. I stiffened, willing my head to stay upright and my face to stay passive as I grabbed my skirts, lifting them as I made my way up the stairs, my mother by my side.
“I was told I was wanted for the events.” I kept my focus ahead, not wanting to look at whatever grimace she was fixing my way that time.
“By Batian. He wanted you there at their arrival so they could see you.”
I tried so hard to hide how much the words cut through me, but a wince escaped, my face heating as I tried to hold back the knot in my throat. To stop my eyes from burning.
“He wanted everyone to know you weren’t dead… yet.” It didn’t matter if I refused to look at her, I could still hear the malice in her voice, the depth of it increasing with each step up this infernal staircase.
“I am not dying, mother,” I spat the word, still fighting the burn in my cheeks. The way she said it; that ‘yet’ cut through me, she probably wanted me dead. “You know I am not dying.”
“A Requisite cannot live long without its Catalyst,” she almost sounded giddy. “Bonded or not.”
Her voice hissed in my ear, the iciness of her tone cutting through the angry heat that had overtaken me. I missed the next step, nearly falling on my face as she chuckled darkly and moved to face me, cutting off any forward movement toward the large double doors everyone was vanishing through.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked as I stood to face her.
“Everyone thinks it's after the bond, but I’ve seen the slow death without it. I’ve seen what’s coming for you.” Those eyes flashed dangerously as she stood there; pressing, goading. Playing.
I had never heard that, with how much she liked to prod me you would think she would have mentioned it before.
Unless she was playing with me this time, too. I exhaled and tried to take another step up the stairs, even as she blocked my progression.
“I guess we will see.” If it sounded like a challenge, it was. “I am fairly certain he wanted me there because I am his sister and because it is his wedding.”
She gave a small sound, the high-pitched squawk a slice of a laugh. “That was not his wedding, girl. That moment, there, was to confirm your existence. To show that you are alive, not that anyone cares.”
I wanted to tell her that Batian cared, that Aeinya cared, that everyone but her cared. But that would only give her what she wants, playing into all of it.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I spat the words before I could stop myself, my skirts falling as I turned to face her, everyone filtering around us as they made their way up the last few stairs and into the banquet hall.
“You? I don’t hate you!” She made another sound that could have been a laugh and I winced. “I hate what you have done to our legacy. I hate what you have done to everything I have built. I hate the stain you have left for your brother to clean up. I hate what you brought into this world and all the trouble you are causing for me.”
I narrowed my eyes, “What have I brought into this world, exactly?”
She pursed her lips, those blue eyes flashing. Her skin, so smooth and pale, was perfectly flush, her hair braided in perfection around her head and through the crown she wore, the silver crown that matched Father's.
She looked like ice; pale and perfect and inhuman. She sneered with all that perfection, my tangles of hair catching in the breeze and pulling over my freckled face which I was sure was still smudged with dirt. But I didn’t look away.
“A stain, girl. You have brought a stain that I am growing tired of.” She fixed me with a piercing stare before continuing up the steps, following the last of the courtiers and their giggling into the banquet hall.
I waited only a moment before following her at a near run, only to face her again as she stood in the door frame, the doors already closing behind her.
“They’ve seen you. That’s all we need. You can go back to your room now.”
The doors slammed in my face as she smiled, the sound merriment and the smell of food that wasn’t porridge made with bacon fat fading into nothing.
I kept my head high as I stared at the door. Everything inside of me felt like it was cracking, but I wouldn't let it show, I wouldn’t let it break me. Even though my eyes burned, even though my throat wouldn’t let any air past. I said nothing, aware of the Boy who was right beside me, the Boy who had heard everything, who had always been there.
Who always would be there.
“Do you think it’s true?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't get any sound past the lump that had formed there.
He shook his head fervently. ‘No.’
I nodded once, trusting him over my mother even though I was sure he knew significantly less.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to him, picking up my skirts again as I turned, and slammed myself right into a wall of a person that presented itself as a wide, muscled chest that sent me stumbling back and right into my poof of skirts.
Unable to keep my balance, I fell, landing on my backside. Thank the Goddess for all the ridiculous amounts of fabric or I might have cracked something.
“Oh! By the Gods! I am so sorry!” A tanned hand stretched out to me as I looked up at an angel sent from the Ether.
Well, perhaps not, but he was framed by the sun streaming through the wide open doors of the Runturin in such a way he was all ethereal and glittery. Not glittery, but glowing. His face was chiseled, angular, and perfect, all of that tanned skin stretched over features finer than I had ever seen. Deep blue eyes met mine, a perfect jaw tight even through his smile as he stood there, hand still outstretched as I sat there with my mouth hanging open, splayed out on the stairs.
He looked like he was from another time, or perhaps from another realm. His tunic and breeches were dark silk, but he wore no cape as was the fashion, his sword the old style rapier the Boy and I still sparred with at times. I could just make out what looked like golden lines on his neck and wrists, what looked to be gleaming tattoos hidden by his tunic. His hair was clearly long and not the short crop that men in our court favored. It was pulled up into a braided twisted style I had never seen. In fact, nothing about him was like I had seen.
He had to have been from one of the visiting realms for the wedding. It was the only thing that made sense. The exotic beauty, the weird clothes and sword. The way his eyes shone like diamonds in the light that filtered through the open doors of the Runturin.
Perhaps that was a little ridiculous.
“Are you alright, love?” he asked in an unfamiliar accent.
I stared at him, something in my brain floating away like a boat in his eyes.The Boy cleared his throat and I jumped, my brain thankfully clicking into place.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I reached up, grabbing his hand which was softer than I expected it to be. Warmer.
The second my skin made contact with him warmth flooded through me like a million stars, pops of light that pricked over my skin. You would think I had never touched a man's hand before. Well, actually, I guess I hadn’t.
Besides Batian and Father the only other hand I had touched is the Boy’s, and his were always gloved.
I shivered at the touch, because of course I did when faced with a neighboring royal who looked like he descended from the Ether.
“Good, I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on everything that’s coming,” he whispered, staring from me to my hand before he dropped it, wiping his hand on his overly embroidered breeches.
There went all that starry feeling. He may look like an angel, but he was like all the others. He had no idea who I was, and he didn’t care.
“Well, love, if you will excuse me. Until we meet again.”
He bowed quickly before he bolted past me, the door opening for him as if he was expected.
As if he was wanted.
I stood, still in shock and pain, watching those doors close again, and watching absolutely everything in my life get locked behind it.