18 DAYS. 10 HOURS. 13 MINUTES.
Restore life? Could it be possible? A flower that had healing properties. Jemeena couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea that a simple plant could have such reverent power, and that if it did, the Temple of Seren wasn’t sharing it.
Or maybe they were?
Meena had never come across something like that before. At least, she didn’t think she had.
Back on the dirigible, she sat at her desk with a pen in one hand and a stack of paper in the other. There was something she had been meaning to do, but time had gotten away from her.
Dear Mining Quadrant,
I hope this letter finds you well and that your expeditions below the kingdom are fruitful. I am sorry to inform you that upon the recent inspection of the mines below Palatina, the palace has found your safety equipment lacking, and we are concerned for the welfare of our citizens who work diligently to supply us with steam power. Please use the increase in funds incoming to supply every miner with appropriate attire, and if further troubles are found regarding the safety of Palatina miners, please send correspondence to the following address.
Sincerely,
Royal Palace
Upon folding the letter, Meena used the ring that adorned her right thumb to seal it with the royal signet, then smiled to herself. She had arranged for the extra funds before departure but hadn’t found the time to write to the mining quadrant. Not to worry, as she would no doubt be able to post her correspondence in due course.
A glass bowl of grapes sat beside the stationery. She popped one into her mouth and relished the sweet juices that caressed her tongue. Ever since her father had brought home grapes from one of his trips to Prago City when she was eight, he had ensured she was stocked throughout the year.
A crumpled piece of paper sat on the edge of the desk, wedged beneath the glass bowl. She yanked it out and flattened it on the wood of the desktop. At the top, scribbled in her four-year-old handwriting, were the words My Bucket List , and below that were various items already ticked off over the years, such as Visit Prago City and Learn to Waltz, but perhaps it was time for a new addition. She gathered her pen and pressed ink to familiar paper. Apologize to Hera .
She lay in bed, exhausted from the day. She tried her best not to cough too much, but the hacking raked at her lungs and throat for air, desperately pleading for attention until she had no choice but to give in. Hanging over the side of the bed, she coughed until she could cough no more and blood splattered the floor in small pinpricks.
Jemeena used to say she’d meet death with grace, as everyone expected her to, but now, faced with the very real threat of nothingness, of being laid to rest in the royal tomb as a forgotten princess who never made her mark, she knew she’d take any option she could to stay alive. If the plant could even provide just another day, she’d take it.
How desperately she wanted it scared her. How far she’d go to get it, how much she’d be willing to risk, shook her bones.
She’d do anything to keep breathing, whether on the throne or otherwise, but what would she risk getting there?