29. Raya
RAYA
“What are we going to do about it? We can’t let her get away with this!”
- EZRA’S ADVISORS AFTER RAYA’S TRIAL
Staring in the mirror, I knew the cut on my cheek would scar. I had enjoyed my glory for all of twenty-four seconds before two guards ushered me from the arena and back inside The Temple. Everyone was talking in hushed voices, and no one dared make eye contact with me. I knew why, I knew that once the crowds had dispersed and the excitement died down, I’d probably be executed anyway for violating the rules of the trial.
I began the tedious task of scrubbing layers of mud, dust, and blood from my skin, hair and fingernails. Elijah had stopped by earlier and stitched my face, his words few and far between.
“You’re not angry with me to, are you?” I looked up at his almost gray eyes and smiled.
“I’m not angry, Raya, I’m scared for you. If you keep pushing,” he sighed softly, “Ezra will push back.” He returned to cleaning the cut on my face and a chill ran through my entire body. Had I really been careless? Or foolish? Elijah had taken me in and kept me safe after the incident at the safehouse. But The Temple had also kept me imprisoned, lonely, and scared. Not to mention the ones who intended to use me as though I was cattle at the market.
I had stared at myself in the blue tiled bathing room until Khol knocked on the door.
“She wants to see you,” he said before even looking up from the book in his hands. His eyes quickly found mine before darting to the stitches across my left cheek. Suddenly one hand was on my cheek and the other was lifting my hair to get a better look.
“Are you alright?” He looked closer, our faces only centimeters apart. “Jasper is such a bastard! God, I would love to pummel his entitled, little face,” he muttered, still staring at the scar but also checking the rest of my face and body for injuries.
“Be my guest, part of me wishes I’d thrown him into that cavern,” I sighed.
“You should have,” his hands slipped from my cheeks, but his face stayed right next to mine.
“Your fighting today, it was…” he whispered.
“I know, I broke the rules.”
“Raya, shut up,” Khol put both his hands on my shoulders. “It was amazing, you looked amazing out there, like you were born to fight, born to survive.” I smiled inwardly at his words, if he only he knew how right he was, how much I had survived in my twenty years.
“I’m quite proud of you,” he smiled, and his words were so genuine I almost started to well up.
Almost.
“Thank you,” I said after swallowing against my dry throat.
“I wish I could be brave like you.” His words came out has a whisper, his warm breath against my cheek. He hands slowly ran down from my shoulders to my forearms and then, finally, to my hands.
“You’re plenty brave,” I whispered, my voice breathless. He shook his head.
“I have never done anything like that.” I stared into his eyes, his words wrapping me in a warm blanket of security. My head was screaming at me to pull away, that I knew better.
“You are—” I cut Khol’s words off by pressing my lips against his.
As soon as our lips touched, I understood what it felt like to come home. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I opened my mouth for him, his tongue swept against mine as he pulled me close. Strong arms snaked around my waist as he lifted me up to his full height and my legs instinctively locked around him. Our bodies were touching in every possible way but I wanted more, I want to be closer to him. To be enveloped by him.
A dormant emotion stirred beneath my skin, I ignored it. Focusing on the feeling of Khol’s hands digging into my hips, hard enough to bruise.
Lips, tongue, and teeth, a breathless groan sounded at the back of Khol’s throat as I nipped his flesh with my teeth. Everything inside me felt gooey and bright and new. His lips felt like dying and living all at the same time.
We broke apart, our foreheads resting against one another, our breaths the only sound filling the room.
“I should have done that on the first day I met you,” Khol whispered against my lips and a warm shudder filled my body.
“That was…” I couldn’t find the words.
“Agreed.”
We stood for a moment, my legs still firmly wrapped around his waist.
“Your mother…”
“Ouch, you’re thinking about my mother right now?” Khol reared back with a smile.
“Well, what were you thinking about?” I asked defensively.
“Oh, we’re definitely not there yet,” he said smugly, setting me down on the floor. I stared up at his swollen lips and messy hair.
“We should probably get going,” I said, smoothing my own hair down and then reaching up to smooth his.
He nodded. I was digging a hole inside my brain as I walked from my chamber into the hallway. I did not have the capacity to think about what this meant for Khol and I. What it meant that a letter addressed to Captain Jala sat in a draw only a few feet away, heavy with secrets and betrayal.
Something had been building between the two of us for weeks, but I would still be leaving The Temple when Jala came for me. So why did leaving The Temple now feel like ash inside of me?
The Temple was filled with people full of hatred and revenge like Ezra, but it was also full of people like Elijah and Khol and Ottie. Sorcerers whose only goals were survival and happiness.
A war raged on within my head.
Khol had made it very clear that he trusted his mother’s words over mine, so where did that leave us? I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I walked down the hallway and entered a new room I hadn’t noticed before.
Purple and gold tapestries lined the walls and golden lanterns swung in the faint breeze from an open window. Incense burned close by.
Ezra sat behind a large wooden desk, books, crystals, and papers scattered around her.
“Raya, how pleasant to see you,” Ezra spoke without looking up from her journal. “That’ll be all, Khol,” she dismissed her son without a glance upward. “I wish to speak to Raya alone.” She finally looked up and made eye contact with me, a slow smile on her face.
“Mother,” Khol started.
“Shut the door behind you, please,” she spoke, and her word was final. Khol turned to leave, sending me an apologetic look as he did so.
“That was quite a show today.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Jasper isn’t usually beaten.” She stood from her desk and walked around it slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Well, I know that you like to keep the trials… festive.” I smiled sweetly. “The crowd loved it.”
“Yes, they did. I, however, did not.” She leaned against her cherry wooden desk, her golden bangles sliding up and down her wrist.
“This trial was combat only, your little stunt was a blatant act of disobedience, not to mention the rumors that have already started swirling. You are foolish, Raya. A foolish and reckless little girl. If it weren’t for your abilities, I would…” She stopped herself short as if catching the words before they could leave her mouth.
“You’d what?” I pushed. “I know that you don’t want me here, so why keep me?” I asked, wanting to rile her, wanting to bait her.
She pushed off from the desk and walked up to me, our gazes locked. She grabbed my chin between her thumb and finger, digging in her nails hard enough to draw blood.
“This is my Temple, my home, if you EVER pull this kind of stunt again, whether it be in front of the crowd or not,” she seethed and spoke through a clenched jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.” Her words were cool and calm. She pushed my head back and licked a bead of my blood from her thumb, before turning to her desk.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I spoke nonchalantly, and she whipped around and smacked the back of her hand across my cheek.
“Know your place, girl. I am the leader of The Temple. You. Are. Nothing,” she spat before walking to her desk and returning to her piles of pages. Blood rushed to my cheek and my skin began to sting.
“You’re dismissed,” she said without looking up.
I walked away, not knowing that the slap across my face was the least of my worries.
Exactly one week later I stood in the dressing room of one of the finest boutiques in the Northern Continent. The handprint on my cheek had faded into almost nothing, and the scar across my other cheek had settled nicely.
I shivered as I stood in only undergarments waiting for the next monstrosity to be handed through the curtain. Elijah, although a talented healer, was no stylist. Even the seamstresses looked worried when he picked out a black funeral dress for me to wear to the ball.
“I thought it looked classic,” he had protested.
If I had to stuff my body into another frilly, pastel dress I was going to scream. I had already dealt with the stick thin seamstresses that eyed my full hips, stomach, and bum like I was muck on their shoe.
“I don’t think this one will… fit,” she had spoken loud enough for the shop to hear, when Elijah had held up a satin pink dress.
I crossed my arms over my chest at the thought.
“Raya?” a familiar deep voice called through the curtain.
“I’m naked,” I yelped, attempting to further cover my exposed body with my arms.
“O-kay,” Khol said oddly and then paused for a moment.
“Did you need something?”
“Elijah had me sent here, he wanted me to see the dress.”
I sighed deeply. Covering my face with my hands.
“There is no dress, Khol, only ugly, frilly pieces of fabric I can barely squeeze into!” My voice came out like a little girl, I was throwing a tantrum. About a dress.
Talk about loss of priorities.
Elijah pushed another awful dress through the curtain and greeted Khol sweetly.
“I don’t think this one’s going to work,” I pushed it back through without giving it a second look.
“What about this one?” This time it was Khol that handed me a dress. My fingers grazed his forearm as I grabbed the soft fabric from him.
It was midnight blue, with a pinched waist and flowing skirt. The thin straps were crested with tiny diamonds and the billowing skirt was dotted with the shining gemstones too. I slipped into the gown as though it was tailored just for me. The material hung onto my every dip and curve and my breasts were held firmly inside the fabric.
“It’s… it’s…” I stammered.
“Let us see it!” Elijah protested and I slung back the curtain.
The men stared, silent.
Elijah reached out to touch the fabric, his hand trembling ever so slightly.
“It’s beautiful, Raya, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, wiping the corner of his eye. I smiled deeply, reaching out a hand for him to grasp.
Turning to Khol, I noticed his eyes tracking up and down my body, stopping on my face.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, because for him there was nothing else to say.
For a woman who did not care much for ‘things’ because she never had the luxury of having them, I felt as though this dress had become an extension of myself. Deep in my belly something unraveled and a plant pot by the window began to bloom brightly, its leaves growing wide and healthy. Khol turned to watch my gaze but instead of awe, his face filled with dread.
“Raya,” he hissed, pushing me into the dressing room forcefully, shutting the curtain behind him.
“Are you insane?” His wild eyes searched my face. “We are not in The Temple now!” He spoke through gritted teeth.
Just like his mother had.
“She warned me this would happen,” he spoke softly.
“Who?”
“My mother, she said you weren’t ready to be out with the humans, I should’ve listened!”
“Khol, it was one flower, and we are the only people in the boutique!” I whispered angrily.
“That’s not the point, Raya, and you know it. You cannot be so careless! Just because The Temple doesn’t matter to you, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter to me!” A deep breath whooshed from his chest. I stumbled back as though his words had hit me.
“Is that what you think?” I whispered, “that I do not care?”
“Raya… no… that’s… you have to understand…” he stuttered.
“You should go,” I whispered, pulling away from him and folding my hands over my chest.
“Raya—”
“Now.” My word was final, and he knew it. Turning abruptly, he fled from the store. My moment of happiness gone and forgotten.
But he was right, wasn’t he? I didn’t care about The Temple, right? In a matter of weeks, I would be sharing everything I had learned with Captain Jala, I would be sighing their deaths.
Wouldn’t I?