CHAPTER 9 #2
A mixture of feyn and human work alongside one another, preparing for tomorrow’s festivities.
I routinely remind myself that not all feyn are like the ones I encountered in the forest years ago, and that living under the rule of a corrupt king doesn’t make them evil.
The humans here seem at ease around them despite the hardships their people suffer in their true home across the sea.
I wonder if they are even aware of the state of La’tari. Of its people. Their people.
A striking feyn with silver hair catches my eye.
She stands by a large window on the first floor, open to the gardens.
A vine like those that adorn the exterior is wrapped around her hand and at first, I think she must be trimming them back.
My body goes rigid, eyes widening as the vine writhes in her hand and produces a tiny bud that blooms into a crimson flower right before my eyes.
My skin tingles like I’m caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, raising the hair on the back of my neck.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the scene before me.
I watch, dumbfounded, as the vine grows, first by inches and then by feet.
She speaks to it, encouraging it to take hold until the interior wall before which she stands is covered from floor to ceiling in a mat of twisted vines, thick with heavy, fragrant blooms.
She leans out the window and offers a quiet “thank you” to someone standing beyond my line of sight. Perhaps she is talking to the vine again. I find myself wondering if the plants speak back to her and decide that until I know for sure, it’s best to act as if they can.
I catch small glimpses of more gifted A’kori throughout the day.
Some use gentle bursts of air to dust, others light fires with the flick of a wrist when the house begins to cool in the evening.
I have done my research and know as much about their abilities as any Drakai.
My resources may have been limited at the keep but I’ve been taught enough to know that gifts used in the open are mere parlor tricks compared to the rarer gifts, which have always been heavily guarded secrets.
The manor house lacks no form of richness.
Much of which I’ve heard described in vivid detail by Leanna but never seen.
When I find myself in the library, I can’t help that my jaw loosens, threatening to hang open as I survey the titles on the lower shelves.
Windows stretch from floor to ceiling, illuminating two stories of leather-bound tomes in soft, waning light.
My fingers are brushing the spines reverently when the rusty haired male comes to collect me upon dinner being served. Felias keeps me company with his easygoing conversation, inquiring first about his brother, my father, then about the weather in La’tari, and so on.
Throughout a lavish meal of savory meats, spiced breads, and trays of seasoned vegetables I’ve never tasted and can hardly describe, we discuss those who have been invited to attend my reveal tomorrow.
He makes a point of noting a handful of young females it would benefit me to befriend, giving me the names of those the king holds in high regard.
These, I must convince to receive me and persuade that I am worthy of an audience with their king.
“I’m afraid the king himself will not be in attendance. I’ve just learned that he had business outside of the capital and left only yesterday to attend to it. My source couldn’t say for certain when he will return.”
It’s less than ideal but I hardly expected him to be fatefully drawn into my orbit upon my arrival.
“How unfortunate,” I say, “I hope his business doesn’t keep him away for the duration of the season.”
“I think it unlikely, but I have no doubt we will learn more at the party. My guests are sure to supply plenty of splendid gossip on the subject.”
He winks at me over a crystal goblet full of a deep red liquid, and I think at some point I am really going to have to find time to talk to this man about his stealth techniques.
After dinner and a decadent dessert of black forest cake and frozen sweet cream, Felias sends me off toward my room.
He reminds me to make myself at home, promising to come by in the morning before his duties as host undoubtedly overwhelm his attention.
I’m exhausted by the time I make it back to my chamber and as excited as I was earlier, I don’t so much as glance toward the tub.
A bath sounds amazing, but I just might fall asleep and drown if I try to take one now.
I head to the wardrobe and pluck the small pouch of herbs out of the interior pocket of my cloak.
I untie the sack and give it a sniff, wrinkling my nose when it’s met with the pungent, bitter smell of earth and citrus.
Experience tells me it must taste as bad as it smells.
I pinch a tiny bit between two fingers and place it on the back of my tongue preparing for the worst.
I’m delighted when the herb dissolves almost immediately, leaving a faintly sweet taste behind. I will have to find out what it’s called. If it works as well as I suspect it will, the knowledge of the herb will be a valued addition to my already abundant list of homemade concoctions.
After returning the pouch to the hidden pocket of my cloak, I hang my dress and crawl into bed. I moan as my body slides under the silk duvet. Nothing should feel this good. Stretching my body out between the sheets, I wiggle my toes.
I will not become accustomed to silk.
But I might as well enjoy it while I’m here.
My eyes grow heavy, and my mind follows soon after into a blissful void of dreamless sleep that I’ve sought for years. The last thought skipping across the surface of my mind before I fade—him.