CHAPTER 16 #3
Her eyes move from the window and land upon mine.
“Teach you what?” she asks, shifting her weight beneath her.
“How to have everyone in the room agree to give me exactly what I want before I’ve even asked for it.”
“That’s rather blunt.” She smiles.
“I didn’t think you’d mind,” I say.
“I don’t. There is little I appreciate more than honesty.”
I don’t like the pang her simple declaration sends deep into my gut.
There will come a day when the female across from me will hate me, and I won’t blame her for that either.
It is only a matter of time before she learns from me the lesson Leanna tried to teach me years ago.
When you care about others, you open yourself up to wounds you cannot defend against.
“It’s a skill that takes time to learn.” Her voice brings me back to our conversation.
I huff a laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll live long enough to perfect it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she says quietly, her eyes taking me in fully before they fall back to the window, and I leave her to her thoughts.
I won’t live long enough to perfect the art I watched her so easily craft. I suppose she forgot long ago just how short and fragile mortal lives are. What meaning does ninety years have to a feyn? Can they truly grasp the fleeting nature of our mortality? I think not.
The carriage draws to a stop and Awri disappears into the night. I follow after her, slack jawed as my eyes look skyward. I try in vain to discern the palace’s black spires from the dark peaks of the mountains looming behind them.
While the exterior of the palace is dark stone, the steps leading up to the grand entrance, and all that I see within, is carved from white marble with thick veins of gold. Ornate pillars span the entry, each one carved uniquely to display rich pockets of gold imbedded in the stone.
Some are carved into protruding flowers. Others into birds in mid-flight. It would take days to study them all. Part of me wishes I could spend the time doing so, because each one my eyes fall upon is more beautiful than the last.
My awe of the grandeur quickly sours when my eyes land on a white pillar wrapped in a trellis of golden vines, and I consider the coin a single golden rose would fetch.
I’ve witnessed children dying of starvation, elders begging in the streets for crumbs.
How could anyone reside in such obscene opulence with the knowledge that so many suffer?
I remind myself that when the La’tari king takes the A’kori throne these pillars will be destroyed, and the wealth of this kingdom will be dispersed to those who need it most.
I follow Awri, determined to ignore the grandeur of the palace and focus instead on our direction and the placement of the guards.
I take note of their numbers, which halls they guard, and which doors they bar entry to.
I follow her deep into the recesses of the palace, knowing it will take a handful of scouting missions before I have it clearly mapped out in my mind.
“Here we are,” she says, pushing open a large set of tall doors.
My eyes grow wide and my room at the manor suddenly feels every bit as barren and rudimentary as my room at the La’tari keep had been.
Tall windows line the southern wall, stretching from floor to ceiling, topped in a leaded array of glass diamonds.
Flowering vines drape wildly across the exterior of every pane.
A large bed sits across from the fire with posts carved in the likeness of trees, the high branches of their canopy reaching out toward one another and twining over the center of the bed.
Deep blue silks drape from the pillars, cascading into pools of fabric on the marble floor.
A small seating area for entertaining sits beside the fire, with another large set of doors opposite it.
Awri explains that the doors lead to my bathing chambers, though she doesn’t come inside.
After reassuring her that there is nothing I need, she leaves with a promise to collect me in the morning.
I walk into the bathing chamber to get ready for bed and groan when my eyes fall on the tub.
It sits in the center of the chamber, a giant bowl carved out of a mossy green stone, large enough to fit four more beside myself.
Not that I have any intention of inviting someone to join me.
I want a bath, but the day has worn on me, so I wash myself down with a warm soapy rag and crawl into bed.
I eat a small pinch of my herbs, looking deep into the sack as I try not to think about the fact that my supply won’t last the weeks until the king’s return.
Throughout my life, there were often nights when I wished I could summon sleep more quickly and tonight will surely be one of them.
A general sense of unease has taken me over. It started the moment I agreed to Awri’s offer of friendship. It changes nothing. It can’t.
Still, my mind wanders to lessons I learned from Leanna and then to Vakesh.
I flinch at the thought of his name—it’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to think it since I set foot in A’kori.
Though Leanna attempted to teach me the same lesson long ago, hers had been far less painful.
She was never able to reach me the way he could.
Turns out, I’d preferred her method of teaching in the end. After all, bones heal and flesh knits back together. I suppose some lessons require deeper wounds, wounds unseen that take far longer to heal.
Stars, I hope they heal. As much as I hope they scar. It is always harder to break through a wound that scars.
I won’t let myself be mad about those lessons, but I can’t stop from hating myself for my willingness to inflict those hurts on another.
I tell myself it will be worth it, that her pain is nothing compared to the lives that will be saved.
I remind myself that Awri fought in the war and is responsible for inflicting this same pain on countless others.
But nothing I tell myself settles the roiling mass of guilt inside me. After a while, I give in and stop fighting it, letting it wash over me. I bathe in the ugliness, reminding myself that this is what I was made for, and this is what I deserve.