Chapter Eleven
Farah
The overwhelming scent of salts filled Farah’s nostrils as she was pulled back into the light.
Plush, velveteen pillows formed a halo around her head, keeping her somewhat upright.
The room was brighter than the hall where they’d all just stood, yet somehow it seemed colder, sterile.
Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one side of the room, displaying a vast, snowcapped mountain range.
Sunlight radiated in through the windows aiding the fire lanterns in giving the all white room a painful glow.
Standing over Farah, dressed in a white cloak with long gray gloves, was a man waving a burning patch of herbs over her face.
Spectacles slid down his elongated and crooked nose, but his demeanor contrasted the bleak surroundings.
He smiled intensely, removing the smelling salts and herbs and placing them down on a tray beside the stone platform where she lay.
“It is good to see you awake, Princess. You took quite the tumble in the great hall earlier,” the man said, his voice much older than expected based on his unwrinkled skin. Copper hair was tucked neatly back in a tie and warm brown eyes, not unsimilar to her own, stared back at her.
“Where…where am I?” Farah asked, still finding her bearings.
“This is the medic wing, of course. Avra had you rushed here right after you collapsed. I will apologize for that. My son, well, he can be quite—how can I say this nicely—curious at times. Lets his imagination and fascination with people get the best of him.”
“Your son?” Farah shot up on the bed? Table? She still wasn’t sure.
“Halius Rigas, at your service, Your Highness.”
At your service? Halius was known across the Mykandrian as one of the most bloodthirsty Grechi, and here he was dressed in a medics uniform tending to whatever sickness caused her to pass out. Was this a dream? A sick, sick dream?
“Do not fret. I am not as terrifying as they say. I must keep up appearances of course, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone outside these walls that I was kind to you.” He strode away and began to fiddle with some other vials of potions on a nearby table.
“You are the God of War and I am to just believe you tend to random people’s ailments in your spare time?
Is this some sort of torture tactic? Can you do whatever it is your son was doing to me earlier?
Is your family set on driving me mad for what my father did?
” Farah could really use a dagger right now.
Or truthfully any sort of weapon. She was too weak from whatever curse Acacius put on her to use her powers.
“God of War, yes. But in truth, that honor means many things. My dear wife is the one who revels in death and bloodshed. I can oversee battles and sway the outcomes at will, but I also am charged with the aftermath of what war causes, both mentally and physically. Being a healer is simply who I am. But again, that is our little secret.”
Farah inched back on the bed. From the tight, white cotton sheet beneath her, she now realized it was indeed a bed, although she was not sure if that made her feel any better.
“If I am to believe you, that you truly are trying to help me, then what did your son do? Why do I feel like I was poisoned and stabbed all over when I drank or ate nothing and have no wounds?” Well, wounds that she was aware of.
Farah patted herself down to double check she hadn’t gone into a state of shock after being pierced by a weapon.
“He can control pain—and pleasure, though he never uses that gift anymore.” Halius crossed his arms. “I cannot speak for my son’s intentions, but he took a great interest in you from the moment Avra announced you would be joining her niece on this journey.
I am guessing he was concerned that you were a threat. ”
“He asked me to marry him in between making me feel like I was dying a slow and painful death.”
“Ah yes, the old torture a girl then ask her to marry you trick. Works every time.” Laughter filled the hollow room as Halius shook his head. “And what was your response?”
Farah straightened her spine and held out her right hand. She might as well lean into the absurd plan Chloe concocted without her consultation. “That I am already engaged. To your niece.”
Halius rolled his lips between his teeth and cocked his head to the side, fiddling with his hands.
“I see. Well, I am sure Acacius is very disappointed. I will speak to him, make sure he does not harm you again.” Grabbing one particular vial off the table, one as deep crimson as Farah’s blood with swirls of inky black, he stuck it in his pocket.
“My wife will be in momentarily. For now, close your eyes, rest. You will feel better by the time she is here, I promise.” Halius floated toward the door with ease. “And, Farah, know you are safe here.”
Safe was the furthest thing she felt, but at this point, it was out of her control.
It seemed as if hours had passed when Farah eventually fluttered her eyes back open.
She was surprised she had slept at all, but whatever tea Halius had left her seemed to lull her into a much needed rest. Her head no longer pounded and her temperature appeared to be back to normal.
Sweat that had coursed along her body was now dry and her mouth no longer felt like parchment.
Yawning, Farah stretched her arms overhead before rolling to her side.
Her heart skipped two beats as she was met by a waiting Avra.
The queen had changed into more casual clothes since their meeting in the great hall.
Her black hair was pinned up in braids that circled the crown of her head and she now wore a simple white flowing shirt, held close to her chest with a black leather corset.
Her skirt was plain, but well crafted, forest green made to sit just under her knees.
It looked light enough that the queen could fight in it, but beautiful enough that she could also attend court without being glanced twice at.
“Your Majesty.” Farah sat up, rolling out from under the sheet and standing to bow. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
Avra motioned her to sit back down. “We have no need for formalities. You are a guest of this house now.”
Farah brushed out her own clothes before wiping at the side of her face in hopes she did not have any drool left over from her nap. “Of course. May I ask why you wished to see me here, rather than in your office or the great hall?”
“The preparations for the Mysteries move quickly and my husband requested I let you rest for a time. It seemed easier this way.”
It was simultaneously comforting yet terrifying that the Rigas family seemed so…
empathetic to her. For all these years she had only known hatred between their bloodlines and assumed it would extend to her as well.
It still could be a trick, to gain Farah’s trust and then use it against her later when they decided she was better off dead then an ally.
“And what kind of preparations might those be?” She knew nothing of the Mysteries—no one outside Hespali did.
“Well, you both will be assigned a trainer tonight to start, then of course there is planning the Eleusinian Ball. That is my favorite part of the Mysteries, if I am being quite honest.”
“Is it really appropriate to throw a ball while we are on the eve of war?” Farah chastised.
Leaning back in her chair, fingers tented, Avra replied, “My dear, it is tradition. If the Mysteries are called upon, a ball must be thrown, regardless of the state we are in.”
There were better uses of her time than this, planning and attending some lavish event so what—Avra could show off her contenders of the Mysteries?
They should be training, or better yet, they should be returning to Nexos with a fleet.
Perhaps this was all available if Farah simply told Avra the truth.
She and Chloe were not engaged. They never were. And she, quite frankly, never wanted to be. Except, to retract her earlier admittance would surely mean death.
“Are we certain we even need to participate in the Eleusinian Mysteries? It is purely lore that they are a divine blessing from the Fates, and even if it is real, Chloe nor I are Hespalian. Would that not cause…complications in the ritual?” No one outside of this kingdom believed in the Mysteries.
The idea that only those with a bond tied by fate would survive seemed demonic.
At least that is what everyone assumed. Those who went in often died during their trials, or if they survived, every bad thing that happened to them after was scrutinized as being a sign from the Fates that they would not remain on this earth for very long without paying an even larger price.
The Mysteries were put on in the name of love, but even love was sometimes not enough for survival.
Khalid had loved Avra, this much Farah knew to be true, and yet they had failed and lost a piece of themselves forever.
“If you would like my loyalty in this war, you will prove yours to me by ensuring you are not willing to exchange something valuable to you for the sake of power as your father did.” The queen pursed her lips and tapped her long nails together. “You do find my niece to be valuable, do you not?”
“I said as much in the great hall.”
“Excellent. Then I will have a guard escort you to your room. A lady’s maid will be waiting there to fit you for a new dress. I require the most extravagant of gowns for my two initiates.”
Now Farah understood why Chloe packed so much.