34. Rahzlyn
Rahzlyn
“They should be back by now.”
Letti dragged the curtains open to let in the morning light. “Worrying yourself silly won’t help you focus on your studies today. You need to eat.”
As enticing as the breakfast assortment smelled, I couldn’t stomach anything until Raithe returned with Nahn and Pahn.
While the bed was certainly comfortable, I was only averaging a few hours of sleep each night.
My body and mind were clearly desperate for more, otherwise I wouldn’t have blabbed the way I had to Raithe.
Except he’d been exactly what I’d needed: a distraction from the shattering truth of my brother. It was amusing to see his stoic composure crumble at the sight of my wet thighs. Addicting, even. I enjoyed watching him squirm a little too much.
We certainly weren’t allies, but something changed last night. Our animus dynamic had shifted, garnered by his impartial yet surprisingly attentive silence.
As if he cared about what I had to say, and not as a means to unravel my apostai loyalty. I knew nothing about him other than he had a dark past, hated the apostai, and trusted only himself.
“How long has Raithe been a guardian?” I asked Letti casually, picking apart an orange peel.
“Twelve years now.” Her purple head cocked in my direction. “Why?”
“He must have been—”
“Eighteen,” she confirmed. “The youngest guardian in our recent history, if not ever. Most aren’t Chosen until their early twenties.”
“Well, that certainly explains the arrogance. He must have served under the last royal queen, then.”
“Auden, yes.” Letti struck what I assumed to be flint against steel near the fireplace. Sparks caught on the tinder, and shortly after the warmth rekindled the chamber. “As did I.”
“How’d she die?”
“In her sleep. Heart condition.”
I froze, peering down at the bed I sat in.
Letti swiped her sooty hands against her frock. “Sheets have been changed since then.” I could have sworn a smirk graced her ever-present scowl. “I think.”
“Comforting. How long have you been here?”
“Longer than Raithe,” she offered surprisingly.
Though she was quick to steer the attention away from herself.
“He’s fostered a reputation for himself after having won the Elemental Tournament the same year he was Chosen, usurping Hector’s reigning title as champion.
Hector was Felaf’s predecessor,” Letti clarified upon seeing my raised brows.
“The former solar guardian before Felaf was Chosen last year. The queendom took Hector’s death hard, particularly Raithe. ”
“You and Raithe must be good friends then, having been here so long together?”
Letti returned to my bedside with a black dress in her arms. Fortunately, there were quite a few dresses, skirts, tops and pants in the court’s repertoire that fit my curves. I tried not to think of all the deceased women who previously wore them.
Today’s gown was simple and form fitting with a high neckline to conceal the communica necklace that I donned every day. Hiding it doused suspicion from Maryn, the tutors, and skeptical servants.
“He lets me trim his hair,” Letti said. “Others have been here longer than us. Gregorios for nearly thirty years. Gertah the physician and Nio our cook, almost the same. Regardless of our tenure, we are simply bonded by our duty to serve. Friendship is inconsequential at the palace.”
“No, but it is nice. Less lonely, I imagine.”
“Reclusion is in our blood,” she said, likely speaking to inherent Scorpion tendencies. “As a Chosen, though, I suggest you get used to it.”
Did I enjoy solitude? In nature, yes. When dancing, absolutely. I always considered myself social. The reality was my friends were an extension of Basil’s. Where he went, so did I.
As we went through our regular motions tending to my skin, I couldn’t help but ponder Raithe taking Hector’s passing hard. He seemed too fearless to let death affect him. “How did he die?” I wondered. “Hector.”
“So many questions this—” She stopped abruptly. “What the fuck?”
“Letti?” I questioned as she sniffed the air, then moved closer to the doors. A second later, I smelled it too. Fire, far more potent than the one across from my bed. Smoke seeped from the cracks into the room.
“Stay inside,” Letti instructed over her shoulder.
I slid from the bed and followed her.
“Right, because when do you ever do what you’re told?” She pulled open the door, then bellowed, “What do you think you are doing?”
In the antechamber that sat between my room and the hallway, the small bookshelf was on fire. The only guard in sight was Chessah, her head freshly shaven and a sneer curling her lips.
“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded.
“No need to fret, Princess.” Chessah bowed. “The stone wall and floors can’t catch fire.”
I gaped at her. “Put this out!”
“It’ll burn itself out soon enough.”
“Letti, get water from the bathing chamber.” I glared at Chessah. “You’re insane.”
“I don’t trust you alone with her.” Letti stood her ground in front of me, whipping out a blade sheathed beneath her skirts. Her swift defensive stance was oddly impressive. She raised her blade, poised to strike.
Chessah only laughed. “I wouldn’t dare touch a hair on her head. Even if I did, a cripple wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing to stop it.”
I stepped around Letti. “How dare you call her—”
“I don’t need defending.” Letti positioned herself in front of me. A dark ferociousness lurked beneath her meek frailty. Someone had taught her how to fight.
I coughed as embers sparked and snapped from the books now set ablaze.
“Consider this a message.” Chessah smirked. “From Her Highness, the queen regent. Enjoy the day.”
She disappeared down the stairs as the fire roared in her wake.
I stared in horror. “What kind of sick message is this?”
“When a Chosen dies, their personal property is destroyed since they have no living relatives,” Letti said. “These books were overlooked during that process.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Those were Hector’s books.” She shook her head.
“This past year, Raithe would sit in that chair and read them, as Hector would, even though there was no queen to protect. I’d catch him off guard, which is hard to do, and I pieced it together.
Apparently, so did Maryn. I didn’t think she knew about them—let alone cared—considering they remained.
I wonder if she was waiting for a moment like this. ”
“But why?”
The queendom took Hector’s death hard, particularly Raithe.
These books—Hector’s books—meant something to him.
Maryn’s message wasn’t for me. It was a warning for Raithe. To finish what the queen regent had started in the courtyard. This was Raithe’s punishment.
“We must fetch more water,” I urged Letti. “Quickly!”
Not a single book had survived.
“She can’t get away with this,” I declared to Gregorios in the observatory later that afternoon.
It was impossible to focus the rest of the morning with the tutors. The advisors shadowed us in the council room as I was lectured and tested on a blend of royal efficacy, protocol, and economical duties. Their advice went in one ear and out the other.
Maryn, once again, skipped today’s lessons.
“She can,” Gregorios said simply.
“Why would she do something so cruel?”
“What’s done cannot be undone now,” Gregorios replied. “Hector and Raithe served as guardians for eleven years together. Even without eyes, I knew how much Raithe admired Hector. When he died last year, it was a shock to us all—especially Raithe.”
Perhaps that was why he seemed so eager for the lashings. Maybe it was to mask the pain of losing someone he cared about.
“It is not your job to worry about him, Novah. Let us focus on your hudro training instead.”
The pages depicting the various uses of hudro blurred together.
There were a million other things that demanded my attention, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the pain he would feel upon his return to the palace.
If it was a fraction of what consumed me in the wake of Basil’s death, he would need someone. No one deserved to grieve alone.
Anxiety brewed as I anticipated all the things my grandmother would say upon her arrival.
Basil’s death would devastate her. We would grieve together, and the truths that I deserved about my past would come to fruition in time.
Because we had plenty of that—I was nowhere near close to finding hudro.
Someone knocked from outside the observatory. “It’s me,” came a muffled voice. “Letti.”
“Enter,” I said, remembering how warded rooms opened for Chosens. For me.
Letti’s face was unusually grim. “Felaf and Raithe are back.”
I shot to my feet. “Where are they?”
“They’re in the stables. Wait—”
I dashed past her, the desire to hold what remained of my family stronger than my guilt, my resentment—my shame.