8. Esmira #2
Methrin had started speaking again. “They know I’ve returned, likely word of it has gotten to the king and spread across the kingdom.
If not, it will soon. I came here as quickly as I could, but Esmira does not know anything about my past or the work you and I have done together.
The king of this realm has filled the heads of his citizens with lies.
Some will benefit us, but most will make it . . . difficult.”
Rydlin rubbed his forehead as though in pain, his dark eyes studying me. “Ah, my dear, so you are, no doubt, perplexed by all of this. How, then, did your Mirror Magic manifest?”
I told him about the Night Market, my glowing hands and the Captain of the Venators becoming aware of my magic.
I wanted to tell him about my mother, but at the last moment, I changed my mind.
It was my burden to carry. Instead I explained how I was looking for the tunnels under the palace when I accidentally freed Methrin.
Rydlin stretched his long fingers, eyes darting back and forth as he listened. “Then you’ve heard the legend of the Wicked Prince?”
I dared not look at Methrin but my pulse ticked up. “I know the legend,” I said carefully. “Is it true? ”
“Some of it is true, some of it is false, other parts are twisted. It is complex.”
Complex? Truth was straightforward, not complex.
Before I could voice my thoughts, the back door swung open, bringing the earthy scent of herbs, flowers, and dirt into the room.
The hearth flamed up and the room grew brighter.
A warmth settled around me like a blanket and I sank into it, finding nothing but peace.
The stamping of feet came as a young woman kicked off muddy black boots.
Her skin was a warm blend of honey-brown and bronze, her cheeks rosy, hazel eyes bright.
A yellow handkerchief covered her head, but shiny brown curls escaped.
Like Rydlin, she carried the same height and lanky frame.
Even the angular shape of their faces and deep-set eyes were the same.
I assumed she was his daughter, and when her gaze met mine, she smiled. Her eyes moved again, pausing on Methrin, taking in the messy table, flickering fire and bubbling kettle, before landing on Rydlin. “Company?”
Even though her question carried one word, the weight lingered, an unspoken language between her and Rydlin.
“Visitors from the kingdom. Prince Methrin of the Everminati has returned, and with him is Princess Esmira who drew him back to our lands, she has Mirror Magic.”
Lyra gasped and stumbled back, pressing a hand to her heart. “I walk in the presence of royalty,” she murmured faintly.
Rydlin turned back to Methrin and me. “My daughter, Lyra. ”
Lyra regained some of her wits and pulled up a chair between her father and me.
She hummed under her breath, eyes shining as her bright gaze bounced between me and Methrin, studying us as though we were pure gold.
It should have made me uncomfortable, but something about the buoyant warmth of her presence made me feel like I could trust her.
And it wasn’t just because she was another woman, it was also because she wasn’t a dangerous sorcerer nor a Wicked Prince who also happened to be Everminati.
“At last,” she beamed. “It’s finally happening, just as it was foretold.”
“What was foretold?” I asked.
Lyra’s opened her mouth to answer but Rydlin touched her arm and gave a slight shake of his head. “Princess Esmira is from the kingdom, she does not know our ways.”
“Is that so?” Lyra beamed at me. “We have much to speak about, in fact, come with me.”
She stood and moved into the kitchen. Taking two mugs and a jar to the table, she placed them in front of her father, winked at him, then hooked her arm around mine.
I instantly stiffened, not used to being touched. Rhea gave me hugs occasionally, but for the most part, aside from maids helping me dress or doing my hair, no one touched me. Yet I did not pull away as Lyra steered me out of the room.
“I’ve never met a princess before, nor one with Mirror Magic. You must be very brave. ”
“Not brave,” I corrected her. “Just tired, confused, and looking for answers.”
“A very honest answer. May I suggest the heated pool, a cup of tea, and new clothes?”
“How did you know?” I asked, already feeling more at home.
“My father and I help many who have been displaced because of magic. Our home is a resting place in between their old lives and new ones. Although I suspect it’s much harder for you.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at her kindness. “It has been rough,” I confessed, and as we walked the halls, I told her about my glowing hands, the Captain of the Venators and his threats, even how Methrin has saved me.
“You’ve had such adventures,” Lyra breathed, releasing me. “I wish I had stories of my own to tell, but I will, one day.”
“Have you lived here your entire life?” I asked, more than curious as she opened a door.
Hot fingers of steam filled the air, and stone steps led down into the bathhouse.
I’d never been in one because they were used by the commoners.
In the palace I had a private washroom, but I heard that others who needed to wash went to the houses in the middle of the city.
Rhea often informed me of the gossip her maid had heard while visiting the public bathhouses.
This one was beautiful, green vines hung off stones, coming in from a high window. Trunks sat against the wall, serving as both seats and storage. Long, flat steps led into the shimmering water, and my fingers tingled, longing to wash away the dust from my skin and hair.
Lyra danced across the stones, untying the strings of her bodice as she flung open a trunk. “All my memories are of this place, although I catch flashes of something else, another life, another world. My mother . . .”
Mother. “Your mother is gone too?” I asked.
Lyra dug into the trunk, pulling out towels, soap, washcloths, and perfume. Uncorking a bottle of perfume, she waved it in the air. “I think the scent of lotus suits you, or there’s lavender. Wait. No.” Putting the bottles back, she dug in the trunk again. “Myrrh.”
“What is Myrrh?” I asked, noting how my question regarding her mother had gone unanswered.
Lyra took the handkerchief from her head and padded, barefoot, across the stones to me. She waved the perfume under my nose and a slightly spicy, smoky, rich scent filled the air.
“It smells—” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “Rare, luxurious.”
“Decadent,” Lyra added. Kneeling at the lip of the pool, she poured the perfume in. “Soak in that.”
“Are you joining me?” I asked as I undressed.
“Unless you prefer peace, my father says I talk too much.” She grinned.
“It’s nice to have some female company after days with . . .” I shook away my last sentence.
The smile dropped from Lyra’s face. She tugged her dress off and walked into the water until she ducked completely under. I followed, feeling free, warm, the exotic perfume sinking through every pore of my skin .
Lyra popped out from under the water, hair soaking wet. She slicked it back from her head with the flats of her hand. “I never knew my mother. It’s just my father and me here, aside from those who manage to find us. I know what it’s like to long for what I never had or dream of another life.”
I thought of telling her about my mother, but the words faded from my tongue. Instead I said, “I’ve never dreamed of another life, although I knew once I grew up, everything would change. I wasn’t looking forward to it, in fact, I was hoping everything would stay the same.”
“How so?”
I bit my bottom lip, relieved I had the opportunity to speak my mind. Even though I’d just met Lyra, the openness of her presence made me want to trust her, confide in her.
“My father—” The words caught as shame filled me. As king, my father was not only my enemy but her enemy too. “He’s the king.”
I studied her face for a reaction, aware that she lived in hiding with a father who practiced dark magic. She couldn’t sympathize with my feelings about the kingdom.
Lyra swirled her fingers in the water and gave me a nod, encouraging me to go on.
“I assumed I’d take his place and become queen, but he laughed at the very idea.” The memory left a bitter taste on my tongue. “He’d arranged my marriage to a prince, planned to send me far away from the kingdom, the Boundary, and, he claimed, the beasts. ”
“Sounds like he wanted to protect you,” Lyra said gently.
It was the kindness in her tone that sent my next words tumbling out.
“Maybe? But I can’t help but think he sees me .
. . saw me as a bargaining tool to secure the kingdom.
The palace might be safe, but there’s not enough magic to secure the Boundary and keep the beasts from returning.
There’s so much fear, of the monsters—one even attacked us on the way here—and the Venators.
Now that I have magic I see them for what they really are. ”
“What are they?” Lyra asked, a hardness to her tone.
Anger?
“Terrifying,” I whispered, eyes glassy as I recalled the Captain. “Brutes. They claim they serve at the pleasure of the king but I think they enjoy the terror they bring, they like hunting, torture. Death.”
Lyra sank deeper into the water. “What do you want to do about the kingdom’s problems?”
“Me?” The familiar ache of uselessness stirred behind my breastbone.
I sank under perfumed waters as though a weight pulled me down.
Heat coaxed the tension from my body, softening my skin.
When I resurfaced, doubt clung to me. “What can I do? I have no authority, no power. I can’t stop what is coming. ”
Lyra tilted her head. “I didn’t ask if you had the power to change the world. The question is simple. What do you want? That is all.”
“I don’t know. My father has always guided my life . . .” I trailed off, embarrassed by what that meant. I hadn’t learned to think for myself or question any of my father’s actions. Until now.
Lyra sank deeper into the waters. “Maybe it’s time for you to learn the truth.”
“The truth about what?”
She spread her fingers. “Everything. Magic. The Boundary, the beasts and Prince Methrin.”
My eyebrows lifted. “You don’t know what he is, do you?”
Lyra held a finger to her lips, whispering the word as though it were a curse. “Everminati.”