Chapter 4 #2
The disdainful, petty-minded Astrophel I know doesn’t tally at all with Elvi’s romantic image of him. But now I understand her tears, the cold shoulder since I fled the palace. It wasn’t just about the flogging – no, it’s so much worse than that. I can’t believe I never guessed her secret.
‘Elvi, I’m so sorry,’ I say.
She turns to me, brow arched.
Stars, now I’ve done it.
I want to wrap my arms around Elvi and comfort her, acknowledge her suffering, her love that can never be spoken.
But exposing her private thoughts would only humiliate her.
Worse still, it could sign her death warrant.
My father’s Watchers are everywhere. If word of her attachment ever got out, it might be construed an attempt to undermine the future of the Stellarion dynasty – tantamount to treason, since Astrophel is promised to me.
And I’m not ready to expose myself. If people learn I can read minds as well as glimpse the future, wary glances would turn openly hostile.
I change the subject. ‘How long until I need to leave?’
Elvi checks the candle clock. ‘A quarter hour. I’d best tidy your chamber. Prepare things for… later.’ Her cheeks pink as she hurries through the doorway.
The thought of what’s going to happen the next time I lie in that bed sparks a wave of nausea.
My fingers stray towards the left-hand drawer. My heart skips as I slide back its false bottom, lifting a tattered volume from the secret recess.
An Arcelian Bestiary. I inhale the must of old parchment and flick through the yellowed pages, tracing the illuminations.
Many of these creatures are extinct thanks to the Sickening, others, like the sylvanmares and pearlsprites, I’ve never seen because they’re native to the enemy realms. I turn to an image of an emberwing, Guardians of the East. It’s beautiful in all its burnished ferocity.
I tear the page from the book. I’ll use it to make one last sculpture, present it to my father as a gift.
He’ll never know what it’s made from. I hug that knowledge to myself and smile.
The key to the Reliquary sits on the edge of the desk, where the Mistress of Locks left it this morning. No part of me wants to venture inside that room, but only the heir apparent is permitted to collect the insignia of office ahead of the succession.
My father has choreographed tonight’s ceremonies with military precision.
Astrophel is to collect me from the Reliquary after I’ve retrieved the insignia, then escort me to the Watching Chamber, where I’ll perform the succession rites.
The main event – the binding – will take place in the Rotunda in the palace gardens.
Followed by a feast in the ballroom to celebrate both our nuptials and my coming-of-age.
I’ve only been allowed into the Reliquary once before. Izarius took me there soon after he began tutoring me, to show me its collection of sacred images and ancient artefacts.
I was afraid of the Reliquary then, and I’m still afraid of it now.
A gasp. I wheel around to find Elvi standing behind me.
She’s looking at the emberwing illustration, face scrunching like a peak-pansy. ‘You promised you got rid of those books.’
‘I tried to burn it with the others, but I-I couldn’t bear to destroy it.’
‘Watchers sweep your chambers every night – what if one of them had found it?’ Elvi’s bottom lip quivers. ‘I’ll be whipped again if you’re caught with a tainted artefact. Do I really mean so little to you?’
She wrenches the bestiary from my hands and throws the book on the desk, where it lands with a heavy thud, its ancient spine splitting like an overripe stone fruit.
‘My father’s dead because of those Oralian rats!’ Elvi’s voice is tremulous with rage. ‘The air they poisoned destroyed his lungs. Your own mother’s not long for this world, and it’s because of them, what they set in motion. How can you possibly want to read about their disgusting familiars?’
I hang my head, feeling dirty and small.
Everything Elvi said is true. I should have burnt the bestiary along with my remaining cache of other forbidden books, the ones my father’s Watchers didn’t find.
But something about it called to me, the lure of its illustrations almost as impossible to ignore as the whisperings of my brandsong.
For what am I, if not a forbidden thing myself? Every bit as monstrous as the beasts within those pages.
‘I’ll burn it now,’ I croak.
Elvi is at the door, her hand poised on the handle. She hesitates, her shoulders wilt.
‘Forgive me, I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I forgot my place.’
The air is weighted with the unspoken truth. No matter how close we’ve grown, I am Elvi’s mistress; she, my servant. There’s no possibility of real intimacy, real understanding between us.
The door whispers shut and I’m more alone than ever.
Will Elvi tell the Watchers about the bestiary? Betray me?
Best destroy it in any case.
I take up the book and move towards the candle clock. With shaking fingers, I tear out the first page and hold it over the flickering flame. My throat thickens as it catches, chars, disintegrates to ash.
All my hopes for the future up in smoke along with it.
Keeping this last forbidden book was the only means of rebellion left to me after my escape failed. As long as I had the bestiary, my father may have won, but he hadn’t crushed me. But he has. He has crushed me.
I can’t fight him anymore. Just as I can’t fight myself and what I’m turning into.
Like it or not, it’s time to embrace my fate.