28. Rahzlyn
Rahzlyn
“If that wasn’t the most foolish thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Letti reprimanded whilst wrapping a fresh cloth around the full length of my arm, “then I don’t know what is. You’re lucky she let you go.”
We sat on the edge of a bed draped in soft black fabric. The moody, opulent space was grander than any room I’d encountered. The royal chambers consisted of a suite of rooms for sleeping, dressing, studying, and bathing.
My chambers.
So many souls had passed through here. Had slept in this very bed. Stars, I hoped the bedding had been changed since the previous princess—Cyrene, I believed—died.
“A man was being beaten like an animal,” I stated simply. “Why would I not do something?”
“Your word is not law.”
“Even if I’m a Chosen?” I asked, still unable to stomach that reality. I hissed from Letti’s forcefulness as she tightened the cloth. For someone of such a petite stature, she was awfully robust.
“Look at your eyes in that mirror,” she snapped, referring to the tall mirror propped across from us. When I didn’t listen, her fingers gripped my chin and yanked.
“Ow—”
“Look. They are not yet the color of the topaz. You may be a Chosen, but you wield no power.”
“But look how she treats Raithe, Felaf, and even Gregorios,” I countered, swatting Letti’s hand away. “Everyone is beneath her.”
“As our reigning sovereign, she can do as she pleases. She may not have power with the other courts, but in this palace and queendom, her word is law.”
“That is all the power she has though: words. And she uses them to harm those who serve her?” I frowned, vividly recalling how she’d forced Felaf to beat Raithe.
The man was many things, but no one deserved such depraved cruelty.
“Would she subject Gregorios to her punishment? He hid my presence too.”
“Gregorios knows how to appeal to Maryn’s good side. You must learn to do so as well, if you wish to endure here.” Letti studied me with a scowling, speculative glare. “You do intend to try, don’t you? Or are you what Raithe claims you to be?”
I looked away, settling on the tray of untouched roasted potatoes, colorful vegetables, flatbread and olives. I’d lost my appetite somewhere between learning I wasn’t of Geminian descent and realizing there was a clock ticking on my ability to prove myself a queen.
“I’m not,” I said. “And if I am the future queen, then threatening to beat me was a bold move.”
“It’s clear she doesn’t believe you will succeed in your trial and therefore does not fear retaliation from you.
You do not have the same education as your predecessors, nor do you seem adept at following the rules.
She likely let you go without repercussions because she has other ideas brewing to punish you.
If there is one thing she cannot tolerate, it’s insubordination. ”
Another sharp tug as she tied a cloth around my back. “She doesn’t scare me,” I muttered, staring off at a leafy plant with strangely sprouted stems. Maryn reminded me a bit of Allory. “She pisses me off.”
“Then you really are a fool.”
I didn’t contradict her. With nothing else to do as she finished dressing my wounds, I marveled with reluctance at the lavish space around us.
The tile flooring lent a coolness to the room, offset by bursts of rust-colored stone running throughout the chamber and up the black marbled walls, where it met with the warmer peppered granite cresting the arched ceilings.
Candlelight danced from the chandeliers carved of bronze overhead.
Rich vermillion drapery, pillows, cushions, and rugs scattered throughout the room—fabrics and patterns I’d never seen in Gemini.
Artwork of scorpions hung on the walls. Heavy crimson curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling arched windows opposite the plush, massive bed.
The bed sat atop a square dais, raised by several steps, with a narrow stream of water flowing around it.
“Where does this water go?” I wondered as I dipped my toe into it.
“Right back to the pipes. They draw water from the aquifer beneath this skyland.”
Plumbing. I knew it existed, but to experience it firsthand was fascinating. A fireplace roared tirelessly, abating the dry coolness. Winter here was a far cry from the cold, damp winters of Gemini.
I relished in the soft whispers of the wind, having since calmed down after retreating from the intense standoff against Maryn earlier. The air here was somewhat stagnant. Seldom did a breeze blow through the apertures. When one did, I savored its familiarity.
I’d never imagined what Scorpio looked like. The skies weren’t black as the stories claimed. Admittedly, I found myself wondering what else the realm got wrong about Scorpio.
I couldn’t let myself get accustomed to any of it. Not if my circumstances were to be temporary.
“Another day or so and we’ll be past the window of infection,” Letti noted. “Then we’ll let your glyphs air out and switch to an aloe ointment.”
I stood on wobbly legs. Exhaustion weighed with every step. “I feel like I can barely breathe.”
“They’re loose enough so as not to restrict movement,” Letti commented dryly.
“It’s not the wrappings. It’s the weight of everything else.”
“Drink plenty of water to help bring down your fever. And rest. Your body believes you are battling an illness, prompting a—”
“Systemic inflammatory response,” I said, nearing the dramatic arched apertures and keeping my eyes averted from the full-length mirror.
I peered around the curtains to find a square-shaped terrace with a rectangular pool at its center, enclosed by a wall of apertures akin to the one I stood beneath.
Three other chambers with similar views shared the quaint courtyard with palm trees and potted plants of all sizes.
Interesting. I’d imagined a royal’s chambers held a view of their floating city off in the distance, though such openness might give way to vulnerable attacks from the apostai. This was safe. Secure. Tranquil, even.
I glanced back at Letti and clarified after her prolonged silence, “I’m familiar with the ways of the body and healing.”
I could tell she wanted to ask me more, but she pressed her lips firmly together, solidifying her usual displeased expression.
Remembering that Gregorios confirmed her discretion through Blood Sight, I admitted, “My family owns an apothecary shop. The women on my grandmother’s side have possessed an affinity for herbs and tonics for generations.”
“So you didn’t study at any Academy?” Letti asked. “Not even a healer’s?”
“No. Did you?”
Letti smoothed the skirts of her simple, fitted black dress. Her hands lingered on her leg. “Alchemy. At least, I tried. Apparently, the thing that inspired me to apply also made me inadequate, even as an apprentice.”
I frowned. “They turned you away because of your limp? That doesn’t make any—”
“We don’t have to do this,” she said curtly, gesturing between us. “I’m here to tend to your needs. That’s all. Felaf is outside your chamber. I’ve left you some oils that you might find comforting to douse your bedding with should you need help acclimating to your new environment.”
“Almond,” I said, surprised at her astute observation. Nahn hated that it was my favorite scent because of how rare and expensive the nut was in the northern realm. I was drawn to its sweet warmth, like a cozy blanket that soothed my mind. “Thank you—”
“Just doing my job.”
Alone at last, I stepped out onto the terrace.
My bare feet padded across cold, dark tiles.
Various comfy seats surrounded the shimmering turquoise pool.
Warm candlelight from large brass lanterns reflected along the surface.
Potted plants and red floral arrangements dotted the space, providing bursts of color amidst the black flooring.
I inhaled deeply, noting hints of mint and lemon.
Geraniums, I deduced. Scorpio’s sacred flower.
I wrapped my arms around myself, glancing skyward.
A cloudless night peeked through the palm trees.
I was Scorpion. Born at some point, in some place, when the sun passed through Scorpio’s constellation.
Years of lies warred against discovery of that truth, for there was no denying my body’s glyphs.
Basil wouldn’t believe it.
Or maybe he would. Beneath his charm, a quiet storm had always brewed.
Geminis and Scorpions were opposites in many ways, a stereotype deterring Scorpions from venturing to Gemini.
I never got a chance to meet someone from Scorpio, but contentious whispers circulated of their intense, controlling, and possessive natures.
Basil and I were passionate in our own ways, certainly. I expressed my passion through dancing, him through conversation. We could both be intense, especially with each other. A natal chart wasn’t the only determining factor of a personality—life was, through nurturing and experiences.
We don’t choose our destinies. Our destinies choose us.
I sat down on a cushioned chair, staring at the rippling surface of the pool.
We knew nothing of our parents, other than our father had left Basil and me on the shop’s doorstep when we were newborns.
Our grandparents never spoke about their son, nor our mother, and reprimanded us whenever either topic came up.
Countless times I’d pondered if I’d unknowingly passed them on the street.
Basil assumed both were dead and gone. A part of me believed that their reason for not wanting us was beyond their control—not because they didn’t love us.
Nahn and Pahn couldn’t have known. Perhaps they had assumed we were Geminian, unaware that we secretly possessed a travel stone hidden inside us, protecting us. That wouldn’t explain how they obtained our natal charts which clearly stated we were Geminian.
Unless they were falsely forged.
Then why the secrecy?