36. Two More Days
~ YILAN ~
It was two days until the Jubilee. I left the cook’s kitchen after approving the final menu and had an hour before I was expected to sit down with the bookkeepers.
Seeing my chance for a moment alone, I picked up my pace in the corridors so I looked like I was moving towards something important until I made it to my private library.
When I stepped inside, I sighed happily. The sun was beaming in the window. I stood in its warm glow and leaned my elbows on the deep windowsill to peer down on the gardens below.
The only human in sight was one of the gardeners, her broad back flat to the sun as she crouched, weeding a flower garden alongside the lawn.
Then, I was at peace. Things would be well. We would get through this. And eventually everyone would be aligned. No more of these suspicious eyes and warning glares.
When the door creaked behind me my stomach sank.
“Yilan? I’m sorry to interrupt you, but could I have a word?”
At the sound of Turo’s voice, I sighed and straightened, looking at him over my shoulder before turning back to the view outside.
“What is it, Turo?” I asked as patiently as I could .
He cleared his throat. “I, uh… I wanted to tell you that I’ve received confirmation from among the ranks that your Nephilim are… well, they’re honoring your belief in them.”
I went very still. “Oh? ”
Turo waited, probably hoping I’d turn around to witness his humility, but I thought I knew what he was about to say, and I didn’t want my smart-ass grin to add insult to his injured pride, so I stayed where I was.
He sighed. “Yes, I’ve had watchers on both of them.
And while I am still not entirely comfortable with the, er, recent events, I thought it was prudent to acknowledge to you that they do indeed appear to be living peacefully.
And with honor. The younger is taking great pains to serve Lady Istral, and…
and the General’s insight regarding the ranks and position of the Nephilim has proven true.
We are still waiting for some of the scouts to return, but those that are back report camps positioned exactly as Melek conjectured they would and… and in the numbers he suggested.”
“Just as he said?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Just as he said,” Turo affirmed tightly.
I gave him a grateful look over my shoulder, but didn’t leave it lingering. I didn’t want to encourage him to seek greater intimacy. “Thank you, Turo. I know you’re eager to protect me. But I’m grateful that you’re willing to see the evidence to counter your concerns.”
Turning back to the garden, I smiled—and my heart rose as a large, dark shadow followed by two smaller shadows, moved out of the Palace and onto the lawn below.
Melek, and the guards Turo had set on him—that he was pretending not to be irritated by.
My handsome mate crossed the lawn confidently, his long strides eating up the space, two guards hurrying in his wake.
Turo cleared his throat behind me, but just as I was about to turn, Melek’s appearance startled the gardener.
She gave a short, sharp shriek, and Melek caught himself midstep, raising his hands to soothe the woman.
I still couldn’t see her face, but she clutched her plump chest.
Inching forward, Melek dropped his stance with his arms extended, as if in some strange bow—I was frowning, confused. But then he reached down to pick something up. The metal of a tool flashed in the sun as he handed it to her.
My heart thudded in my chest when she left him standing there for a breath.
But to my great relief, she nodded once, then hesitantly took the thing, nodding again and even bobbing a low curtsey to him as Melek backed away, bowed beautifully, then continued on his path without looking back.
The gardener watched his progress until he and his guards passed out of sight, then turned, but for a short time she just stood looking at the tool in her hand before returning to her task.
My heart pinched and I clasped my hands together, hoping and praying.
They’d see. All of them. They’d all been twitchy about the Neph, especially because of their size. But now the initial shock had passed and people were getting a chance to see their true character…
My heart sang.
“Yilan, are you listening?”
I blinked. Turo was speaking, and I hadn’t heard a word.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, turning from the window. “I was… distracted.”
He frowned, then strode over to stand at my side, peering down to the garden—just in time to see Melek disappear into the trees, the guards hurrying in his wake.
I saw his shoulders drop and I hated myself a little bit more.
“What was it you said?” I asked, hoping to distract him.
Turo was stiff, his hands locked on the edge of the windowsill. He didn’t turn away from the sight below, but cleared his throat again and spoke quietly.
“I said… as the General suggested, we have sent the first messengers to extend an invitation to Jannus the Halfling. I will… I will let you know as soon as any word is received on his whereabouts, or… or what his reply might be.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
He finally turned from the window. Dark smudges underlined his eyes. The lines above his cheekbones and crows feet suddenly seeming far too deep for his age.
Two more days and the Jubilee celebration, then this torture will be over for all of us.
After staring too long, Turo nodded, bowed once, then walked out, leaving me relieved. And exhausted.
Thankfully, those last days passed too quickly to count.
I only rarely saw Melek. He was always gone from my room when I woke no matter how early I opened my eyes.
He spent every waking hour carefully winning over those within the Palace, or calmly arguing with the Council.
Even when we attended Advisory meetings together, he cautioned me to let him fight his own battles.
So I did, treating him as I would any other Advisor.
Nighttime was our time. In the dark, when the rest of the Palace was quiet. But those stolen hours kept me going during the three days, then two days, then one…
The night before my thirtieth birthday, sweaty and near dozing in the chair in Melek’s apartment, he gathered me in and kissed me.
“Happy Birthday, Love,” he murmured when the high moon chimes rang through the Palace.
Body languid and eyelids heavy, I just smiled and whispered, “Thank you.”
And my mind echoed over and over, one more day.
The day of the Jubilee itself dawned bright and clear, though chilly. Autumn was well and truly upon us, with bright, golden days and near-frozen nights. I had thought Melek might stay in bed with me, or wake me for my birthday to celebrate quickly. But I was wrong.
I was woken by a gaggle of servants—my maids, Berne, the seamstress—all singing and laughing.
They had flowers and hot chocolate, kafk and fruit. I was bathed and primped, celebrated and fussed over.
And even though I’d been looking forward to it—particularly to the new gown and the festivities that would run throughout the day—there was something distinctly hollow about thanking servants for presents rather than my mate, and only seeing Melek from a distance for the first few hours.
I knew it was the way things had to be. But my heart yearned for more.
One more day.
But as I was whisked into the flurry and bustle of the day, the hours passed in a blur.
Breakfast with Istral, and her beautiful gift of a necklace she’d designed and had made by the jeweler. Yet I was preoccupied, thinking tomorrow I could sit here with Melek, finally .
Walking the halls between meals and events was a joy—the servants sang songs and called bright greetings. But I kept looking over my shoulder, hoping Melek might appear and walk at my side.
The banner erected in the dining hall warmed my heart. But it was soon forgotten when it occurred to me this was the last time I’d walk through the Palace as a Maiden.
Tomorrow, my heart said in rhythm with its beat. Tomorrow they will know.
Tomorrow they would all learn that my soul was branded with Melek’s name, and my body by his touch. Then Melek and I could finally stop pretending to be less than we were.
By the time we reached evening and the ritual was upon us, my nerves were tight, fluttering in my stomach like swarms of butterflies. It had been such a battle to get Melek to this point, I hadn’t let myself think deeply on the battle we would face together once he accepted the crown.
But all of that was for tomorrow. Today was for celebration, and hopefully, the last vestiges of resistance against Melek as an ally. It would have to be. I wasn’t waiting any longer.
As evening fell, the formal events were done, and it was time for the bonfire. My mind shied from the mild horror of what was required tonight. But I huffed a breath and shook my head as I passed the guards and stepped into my personal suite.
“There’s the Lady of the hour!” Turner said with a broad smile as I entered. Nelly, my second maid, clapped her hands and greeted me as well. But it was Keesa, the royal designer, who had my attention.
She stood in the corner of the room, near the three-paneled mirror for dressing, beaming at me.
She’d told me this morning as she dressed me in the gorgeous, blood-red gown she’d made for the Jubilee, that she had a surprise for this evening.
I wasn’t sure what she had up her sleeve—the night ritual was supposed to be attended in night clothes, though the term was loosely defined.
Whatever she’d made for me, it was hidden under a long, semi-sheer length of fabric that she’d draped over the dress form in the corner that she used when fitting me.
The women all stepped back to give me a clear path into the room, smiling and clasping their hands as they watched me approach. I drew up short scanning their smiles.