Chapter 19
Nineteen
Kamari
Kamari traced her fingers along the words etched into the parchment as she read them again and again.
“My name is Desmond Orathka. My story is not a happy one, but I hope you will listen to it anyway. The voices have told me never to write these thoughts down. Never to tell anyone what they’ve told me but I fear I can’t hold it in any longer.
My mind is slipping faster and faster and if the only way to”
There was a quick tap on the door. Kamari’s stomach sank and she slid the journal under her pillow.
“Are you ready for me, Majesty?”
Just Hanna.
Kamari blew out a puff of air. How bad would it be if she just denied the Naming Day Banquet and stayed in bed?
Well, they’d call you a traitor for one, she thought.
And then there was the matter of her parents and Raffe. Everyone’s eyes, always watching her and now with the wedding customs to begin, she supposed there truly was no more hiding.
“Your Majesty?”
“Yes,” she said, smoothing her nightgown. “Come in, Hanna.”
There was no way out of it. She was going to put on her best queen’s smile and dance and shake hands with the priestesses and the lords and ladies and praise Celestria for her upcoming gifts.
She would have ceremonial tea with Raffe the following day and she would take his hand and she would be what they needed her to be.
Even if all she wanted to do was hide under a blanket and read Desmond’s hidden journal over and over again.
“The storms have finally settled,” Hanna said as she swept through the room, tidying things. “Markets have reopened. Should be a beautiful evening.”
Kamari chewed her nail, sitting perched on the end of the bed like a child, her mind filled with Desmond and his journals. The key to finding him was in that journal she found locked away, she knew it. If only she could just finish–
“Are you thinking the purple or the red?” Hanna held two gowns up for selection.
“Hm?” Kamari looked up at the streams of fabric.
One, a deep purple with intricate gold beading, delicate moons and stars dangling from the sleeves.
The other was red, a silky fabric with a deep cut down the chest and tiny dazzling stars stitched into the hemline.
Both were beautiful, both made her feel sick.
Celebrating a day that would steal someone’s life didn’t sit right with her and dancing while Desmond was missing, felt disloyal.
Her eyes snagged on the red dress, the color filling her chest with longing.
She ached at the memory of wearing it the first time, only to make sure it fit.
Desmond’s fingers traced the stars at the edges, the plunging neckline.
He’d moved her in front of the mirror, made her watch everything he did to her.
Asked her to say all the things she wanted him to do.
She’d never felt so vulnerable. So open. So raw.
And she loved every second. Loved being in control. Loved passing that control onto Desmond and him picking up her cues seamlessly. He took his time learning her body, her wants, her needs.
Her throat tightened. “The purple,” she said before closing her eyes and sinking lower into bed, pushing the memory away.
“You’ll look radiant.”
She could hear Hanna hang the dresses up, and tinker around on her vanity. Likely pulling jewelry and other accessories. She chirped on about matching with Raffe and how lovely the menu sounded and whether or not there might be a new painting of Celestria revealed.
Hanna deserved a gift, Kamari thought. Or a large increase in pay. Anyone who could remain so bright under the oppressive cloud of sand they lived in, she thought, deserves to be able to indulge themselves.
The banquet hall was located in the very center of the Citadel.
The enormity of the space was overwhelming.
Extravagant chandeliers brightly lit with astra hung from the ornate mosaic ceiling.
Huge tiles etched with Celestria’s stars led to a vast dance floor, shining and waiting to be used.
A band was perched on a dais, string instruments and flutes drifting through the open space.
It was beautiful and expensive and yet all Kamari could think about were how many places someone could be hiding.
Nev and her knights escorted her, staying dutifully behind her as she shook hands with various lords and ladies, the council, her parents, then finally, Raffe.
He wore a similar deep purple tunic, lined with thick gold, and small stars adoring his shoulders.
Several long necklaces hung down his chest, all layered on top of each other, each of them representing the different phases of the moon.
“Your Majesty.” He dropped in a deep bow to which she curtsied in return.
Please don’t ask me to dance.
Please.
Please.
“May I have this dance?” Resolve settled between her shoulders. With her parents, the council and half of Vargah watching, she couldn’t get away with saying no.
“Of course, Lord Raffe.” She held out her hand.
The long, delicate chains attached from the rings on her fingers, wound around her wrist and twinkled in the astra light.
Raffe’s fingers wrapped around hers, his other hand landing lightly on her back.
The music was a soft tempo as she and Raffe swept through the ballroom. His movements were confident, assured.
“They’re all watching,” he whispered against her ear. “Waiting to see what you do.”
Kamari drew her eyes from where she’d fixed them on the farthest walls of the room and met the crowd. Dozens of people stood, frozen, watching the enemy queen dance with someone who was not their king. “And what do you think they see?”
He spun them, following the sway of the string instruments. Her parents' faces flashed briefly before Raffe spun her again and pulled her flush with his chest.
“A queen that’s trying,” he said. “Your efforts haven’t gone unnoticed, Kamari.” His hand slid down her back, burning a line every place they touched. She didn’t mean for her fingers to flex around his, didn’t mean for that to signal that he should pull her closer.
“I’m sorry about my parents,” he said. “By the time I realized they’d sent a letter to Novaria, there was nothing I could do.”
The music grew louder, switching to something more upbeat. More couples joined them, the astra lights flickered, Raffe’s hands tightened around her, trapping her in place against his body and her lungs tightened.
She was suffocating and no one noticed.
Her skin became hot and sticky under the lights and under everyone’s gaze.
Under Raffe’s unwelcome touch. Couples danced around them, laughing, drinking.
Life continued on and all the while Desmond was missing and a sacrifice loomed in the near future.
She should not be here. They should not be here. Celestria–
She cut her thoughts short. Her anger with the goddess was something she hadn’t admitted to out loud, only in her weakest moments when night was thin and dawn was swiftly approaching, when sleep and hope were lost, did she allow herself to truly feel.
After all their sacrifice, the least the goddess could do, she thought, was offer a semblance of hope. A moment of peace or knowing that Desmond was safe somewhere under Her watch but the goddess had given her nothing, even after Kamari had given Her everything.
The music began to fade so Kamari took advantage of the shift in songs to peel herself from Raffe.
“Thank you for the dance.” She dipped her chin and Raffe’s face morphed from bewildered to calm and collected in an instant. He was almost better at playing this role than her.
“The pleasure was mine.” He bowed again and over his lowered back she caught the reddened face of her father. The disappointing shake of her mother’s head. The sneering glances of several lords and ladies.
She spun on her heel and wove her way through the crowd, smiling and being cordial when she needed to all the while her heart raced, her stomach sick and filled with disgust. She was almost out, almost to the hall when the High Priestess made her way toward Kamari, purple silk robes dragging behind her, face hidden beneath a veil of moons and stars.
Not now, Kamari thought. Please, not now.
“Your Majesty.” The priestess’ voice was honey smooth, her pale hands stretching out from beneath the draped fabric, reaching for Kamari.
“High Priestess.” Kamari dipped her head, felt her father’s eyes bore into her from across the room. “Thank you for attending. Your presence has put the people at ease.”
The priestess slipped her hand around Kamari’s. It was cold, hard. She fought the urge to wriggle free from her grip. “I am told I’ll be seeing you soon,” she said. “Counseling?”
Right. Counseling with Raffe.
“Yes,” Kamari said. “In a few weeks. After Naming Day, when astra and water are restored.” Hopefully, never, she thought.
“I appreciate you being here, Priestess, but I was just heading for the washroom.” She pulled her hand free but the Priestess snagged it back, gripping it tight, the cool metal of her rings biting into Kamari’s skin.
“Be cautious, daughter of Celestria. She is always watching, always listening.
Even to the things you do not say." Her grip tightened around Kamari's hand.
"Doubt would be an awful thing for the Goddess to hear this close to Naming Day, wouldn't you agree?” Kamari's fingers shook but she forced a smile and nodded.
With that, the Priestess let her go, slipping into the crowd, her purple robes long and flowing like water.
Kamari hurried away, disappearing into the small corridor used mainly by the attendants, before anyone else could grab her attention.
The music from the hall hummed through the narrow walkway, trickling into the dark corner where Kamari tucked herself. An ache grew in her chest, dense and smothering. She smoothed her hand over her heart, urging it to find a normal rhythm.
A familiar voice rose above the music, edging down the walkway. “I want each of you at every exit. I want eyes on everyone coming and going.”
Kamari peeked around the corner just enough to see Nev’s black boots. She pressed herself tighter into the corner, stifling her panting breaths with the back of her hand. Nev barked her orders again, boots scuffled, likely sending the other knights on their way.
When she only heard the music again, Kamari stole another glance to see Nev still waiting, lips fused together and face hard as granite. Her red hair was slicked back, her bold brows furrowed.
Her gaze dipped right to where Kamari was hiding. She slunk back into the corner and pressed her eyes tight.
Minutes passed and there were no other noises than the music. No heavy boots. No orders being called.
Nev had given her the gift of privacy, albeit she would wager a large sum of money that the knight was at the entrance of the corridor, hand on her sword, ready to stave off anyone who deigned to enter.
Still, Kamari slunk all the way to the floor, waves of purple silk pooling around her. She pressed her hands against her chest, as if the pressure would be enough to soothe the deep ache that ripped through her since Desmond’s disappearance.
She closed her eyes, focusing on her heartbeat, trying her best to drown out the revelry happening just on the other side of the corridor.
You’re celebrating someone’s death, she wanted to shout.
You’re celebrating while my husband is missing.
While your king is missing.
She hated them. All of them. Her parents, the council, Raffe. Hated them for their apathy. Hated them for assuming the worst and moving on. Hated that she was playing a part instead of helping Stone and Aesira find Desmond.
She rose to her feet, ready to confront Nev only she couldn't before a hand closed around her mouth and she was dragged backward through the dark corridor, the flowing panels of her dress slipping beneath her, the music from the hall fading until it was only the sound of her struggled breathing.