Chapter 12
Aurora
As Aurora had soared over the Dragon’s Spine Mountains and the old canyon trade road atop a giant eagle, her hatred for Theron had crystalized into determination.
Leukos had ridden with her, advising her on court proceedings and how to demand what it was she wanted most from him.
He’d even had the forethought to get the mind’s eye stone from Orithyia before they’d taken flight.
The Viridian lord had quickly become one of the few people Aurora had any faith in.
She had a great many grievances to lay at Theron’s feet—not just his lies and Drakon, but also that, even though she’d stepped into the ancient Aurean palace, she’d not had the heart to admire it, such was the tumult inside her.
This was the dream of every cleric of Knowledge who had ever held a brush or spade, who had ever pictured the ancient capital in all its glory.
And here she was, walking through its storied, soaring halls, her feet pressing into the mosaic floors, seeing its citizens in their ancient fashions, and yet none of it stirred even a flicker of interest.
She’d experienced the grand outer court, packed with neat rows of residences and buildings bustling with attendants, soldiers and bureaucrats, the throne room its crowning jewel.
Then she’d walked through the maze of corridors between the throne room and the inner sanctum, where royalty resided.
Grandiosity had been replaced with opulent comfort, the frescoes alone a feast for the eyes to say nothing of the tapestries, the flowers bursting from lacquered vases or the perfumes lingering in the air, yet there was no delight to be had.
What love and passion she’d had in her heart, Theron had rendered to ash.
All that remained was the grim resolve to have vengeance against him and right the wrongs of history.
Because even when she gave him the chance to prove he had honour, he not only proved he had none, but that his despicableness knew no bounds.
He’d insinuated that she was mad in front of all the nobles who had been moments from accepting that Drakon needed to die.
Now, no matter what she saw, no matter what warnings she tried to relay, their doubts would stalk her.
Commander Nireus led her to a set of rooms that were richly appointed in the sunny hues favoured by the Aurean court.
Peach and pale yellow patterned mosaics on the floors complimented the warm, pastel hued paintings of flora and fauna on the walls.
Attendants in deep blue gowns, tunics, and trousers with gold pins at their shoulders opened doors and bowed as she passed, polite smiles frozen on their lips.
How had Phaedra managed to survive a lifetime of being on display?
All Aurora wanted to do was collapse in bed and scream.
“These will be your rooms in the palace, Your Highness. Your baggage may take a few days to arrive. In the meantime, you will be provided with all you need. If there is anything more you require, merely inform one of your attendants. Guards will be ready to escort you wherever you please throughout both the palace and the city. As a concubine, you may use the inner sanctum, including the royal baths, gardens, and library, at your leisure,” Commander Nireus said and bowed.
Concubine. A wife. Not a queen. Not that she’d asked for a crown or power. But just as he’d once threatened, it seemed Aurora was destined to become a forgotten concubine. So be it. The fewer eyes she had on her, the better.
“Thank you, Commander Nireus.”
The commander bowed once more and left her to the palace staff, standing attentively in complete silence as they tried to blend in with the décor.
A shiver rolled down Aurora’s spine. No one gossiped like palace staff.
It set her teeth on edge that she might have to feign the part of a true princess to get any respect here.
It couldn’t be that hard, could it? She merely had to act like she was entitled to the whole of Trisia.
“Bring me a change of clothes and refreshments.”
As the staff bustled about to do as she’d asked, the feeling of being trapped grew. Her magic responded to her fear and anger, and it was all Aurora could do to keep a straight face as she tamped down the seething in her chest.
She’d spent almost as long as she’d had visions dreading them, hating them, and wishing she could remain blissfully ignorant. The thought that she would not only have to suffer them but that her suffering would be for naught was a new form of torture. One she could lay solely at Theron’s feet.
Once, she’d thought to tell him she came from the future. Now, even if she did, he would likely only use it as further proof to discredit her.
As she was dressed in a new gown, she wondered if Hyllus could even contact her here in the heart of the Aurean palace.
If he managed it, she would beg him to take her away.
There was nothing left for her here in Altanus.
Nothing but the need to finish her mission alongside the hero of the holy sword.
Maybe Hyllus would even make good on his threat. After all, Theron had most definitely broken her fool heart.
To think, she could have run away with Hyllus and Epicasta when he’d first offered and spent her days learning about the ancient dualists.
Instead, she’d come to know the full extent of her husband’s wickedness.
Aurora really did bear the saddest fate in the tapestry.
Tied to Drakon and the monster who had encouraged the beast’s creation.
As much as she wished to wallow in self-pity and dream of Theron’s just end, Aurora had a mission to complete. One which began with beheading Batea’s serpents. And if her perfidious husband was to be no help, then perhaps Lord Leukos would.
“Call on Lord Leukos to attend me,” Aurora ordered.
She sipped the wine she’d been served as she waited for Leukos to arrive. When he did, she dismissed the staff. They left, but with reluctance. It only made it more obvious that they were here to serve and to observe in equal measure.
Once they were gone, Aurora sighed, her shoulders losing a fraction of the tension that held them stiff.
“I don’t know how anyone stands being watched like that day in and day out. It’s unnerving,” she groaned.
“You didn’t ask me here to discuss the attendants, did you?”
“No. You were there. Everything’s gone to rot. He all but told them I’m mad. Now, no matter what I tell anyone, I’ll be lucky if they believe even a fraction of it.”
Leukos frowned, thinking.
“If I may be so bold, have you considered telling him why it is you’re not mad?”
Aurora swallowed her next sip of wine uncomfortably. Leukos had already suspected what her magic was capable of. After the scene in the throne room, apparently he was now entirely certain. If Flora found out, she’d be lucky not to be kidnapped back to Boreas or killed.
“May I ask you a question?” she asked.
“You may.”
“Have you told Flora what you suspect?”
He was quiet for a time.
“No.”
“Why?”
His gaze seemed to look straight through her.
“Because if it’s true, then your presence here is a miracle of the Triad’s making.
I am not…unaware of what Her Majesty is likely to do if she discovers the full extent of your abilities.
And now that I have seen Drakon with my own eyes, I am even more convinced that you have come to us without guile or ulterior motives. ”
His faith helped soothe the despair that had taken hold of her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “But I don’t think the king will heed me, even if I tell him…everything. He seems more concerned with his pride and his power than doing what must be done. I fear he has never been the man I thought him.”
“Perhaps. But I’m not wholly convinced of that. General Batea mentioned that she had already agreed to kill Drakon, but not all her serpents. It seems he has already secured Drakon’s demise in her mind.”
“But what of the others? I don’t…know how Drakon will gain his immense powers. Even if Drakon is slain, what’s to prevent any of the other serpents from becoming a new Drakon?”
“This is why I advised you to bring the soldiers and nobles that I did.” Leukos leaned back in his seat. “Killing Drakon would prove quite troublesome, but the other beasts? We should be able to manage it.”
Hope swelled in her chest.
“I need to contact the avatar.”
“I will have our people keep an eye out for him.”
“Can you do that, even here?”
This was the heart of Aureum, the seat of Theron’s power.
While it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that Flora had spies in Theron’s court the same as he had in Flora’s, was Leukos even privy to their identities?
And could such a task even be trusted to them when the Viridians wished to capture the avatar and Princess Epicasta?
“Oh, trust, they are already keen to spot him. But all such information is reported to me first, and I well remember the curse the avatar placed on me.”
Yes, she supposed he did, and it would keep him from uttering a word of Epicasta.
Aurora released a pent-up breath. Was it worth trying to tell Theron the full truth now, even after he’d betrayed her? Again. How would she even go about it? Supposing, of course, that his intent was not simply to frame her as a mad oracle, never to be taken seriously.
“May I ask…how you were convinced?”
“Your vision. The first time I was…horrified by the monstrosities and Drakon. As you revealed more of your magic, I began to wonder what else you were capable of. When you warned me off questioning you, I was fairly certain. But the second time I saw your vision, I was fully convinced. That time, I paid attention to the glimpses of the landscape.”
Aurora suppressed a shiver. They’d been galloping towards the Dragon’s Spine Mountains. She’d never considered that someone would recognize their characteristic shape in the dark and terrifying scene.