Chapter 15 Ariah #2
“That’s obvious.” He points off to the right, like he didn’t just give me sarcasm. Lucky for him, I bite my tongue. “Go for the thicker ones.”
“You know, my father is—”
“Yes,” he huffs, stopping me. “Your father is an apothecary. I’m well aware of who your parents are. Collect two more so you can go. Your next lesson is approaching.”
At a slower pace, I drag out picking two more roots. It takes everything within me not to respond to him.
“That’s two. What’s next?”
Sunlight creeps onto the tops of the trees and the tannum roots are already crawling back into their hiding spots.
“The gallery room on the second floor next to the library. Vera will be waiting.” He grins. “Good luck.”
“That’s it?” The lesson is rather short and I don’t see the point in it.
“For now, yes.” Sky continues picking roots. “As long as you learn something new with each lesson, I consider it a job well done.” He stands straight, his tall frame nearly touching a branch of the tree. “Did you know about tannum roots before today, or did your father teach you that?”
My tongue clicks instinctively. “He did not.” I lift my shoulders and scrunch my nose. “Job well done.” I almost add in a good boy but I’ll keep it for another time. He’s bound to be an ass again.
He walks farther into the forest, swiftly disappearing out of sight.
Good thing we didn’t go too far from the grounds. Finding my way back is easy, but my stomach turns at having my first lesson with Vera.
Hopefully, it’s a little more enlightening. I can’t say that plucking branches from the ground taught me a lot. The time would have been better spent on sleep.
Still new to the castle’s layout, I head up to the second floor and immediately become lost. People pass me in the grand halls, whispering at the new face they see in court.
My favorite part of being around so many people is seeing the multitude of different outfits and eventually getting to wear them. Trends run rampant in court and, unlike in Foxhead, the people here actually care about what they’re wearing.
Buttons and lace must be the newest trend.
So many people are wearing buttons that serve zero purpose, but I don’t hate it, not one bit.
As soon as I can find some free time—if I’m ever allotted any—my first goal is to find material and sewing supplies.
Designs slosh around in my head given my pen and pad were replaced by a dagger, I’ll just try to mentally keep track of them all.
Along with the choice of custom-made, jewel-encrusted weapons, which in my opinion is too much, I was told to choose a few dresses and various outfits to wear in an attempt to blend in around court.
The story is that I am a daughter of a distant relative of the Queen, here to assist her with courtly duties.
There are a lot of people in court with those types of roles, so no one really questions the legitimacy of it all.
Plus, if the Queen says it to be true, then that’s the end of the conversation.
I peek into each room until I come across a library and know the gallery room is close.
A large arch creates the entrance, it is the only room on the level without doors.
Inside, small groups wander around looking at the hundreds of paintings and sculptures.
According to Chana, this part of the castle and the throne room are the only two areas open to certain, more sophisticated, members of the kingdom.
It’s an odd place for training. I don’t even know what Vera is supposed to train me in.
Outside of people-watching, Chana has gone over weapons, much like my mother, only more in depth and with a greater passion. If there is one thing Chana loves, it is a sharp blade and a steady hand. She speaks of her weapons as if they are people and cares for them much more.
I catch a glimpse of an emerald green dress fashioned with bronze buttons that run up the bust to a covered neck. That’s when I see red lipstick and dark eye shadow. Vera.
“There you are!” She waves me over.
Her face is bright, lit up like she’s been waiting all day to see me. This newfound, friendly demeanor is off-putting and stops me from moving closer. Vera made it clear the first day I met her, that she doesn’t care much for me, and I don’t have the highest opinion of her.
Vera continues to wave to me and people soon give me strange stares for not acknowledging her.
Play along, I repeat internally and move to her.
At my approach, she leans in and plants two kisses, one on each cheek.
Pulling away, her eyes drift up and then down, examining my black dress with a puffed-out skirt that I happened to pair with a long-sleeved lace top.
A single chuckle is let loose. “Ariah, dear.” She tries to hold on to the chipper sound she possessed when I first entered the room.
“Has someone died? In court we usually refrain from wearing black unless necessary.”
“Not yet.” I copy her perkiness. It feels grotesque pretending. “Some say the divinities would often wear black as a symbol of power. Plus, I like it. Is my preference an issue?”
“Good morning.” A young woman dips her head at the sight of me and Vera.
Lady Arranella Gallor is what Chana had called her.
She is also someone Chana and I have been spying on the past couple of nights, which is a rather creepy thought, but then I remind myself that is our mission, given to us by the Queen.
She is the wife of Lord Theo Gallor, who is an old, stuffy man, and because of it, his wife has a knack for seeking out attention from several people in court, and I mean several.
All of whom she sneaks out to meet in the late hours of the night.
I don’t particularly care about who she does or doesn’t spend her nights with, but Chana says the Queen is convinced she has other motives outside of pleasure.
Treasonous acts. Ones that could send her straight to the gallows.
“My Lady,” Vera says as she curtsies, and I do the same.
“Vera. It’s a pleasure to see you this morning.” She eyes me. “I know we have met once but I’m dreadfully awful at remembering names. Do remind me.”
“It’s Ariah, My Lady.”
“That’s right,” she says with a burst of energy. “You’re one of the new ladies-in-waiting to the Queen. Pleasure.”
She shifts her attention back to Vera. “Only a few days left of my little getaway. I’ll be hosting a farewell party the night before my departure, in the Rose House.
You must join. You as well, Ariah, and any guest you wish to bring.
” Her accent differs from most of us at court.
It’s higher pitched and sometimes she speaks so quickly words get jumbled into one large one.
“Such a shame you have to leave so soon. The castle is less dull when you’re here.” Vera exaggerates her words and laughs when Lady Gallor does.
“I’ll have to come without my husband next time.
He instantly sucks out all the air in the room when he’s around.
Floppy old geezer needs to let death win already.
” I summon a fake laugh and catch Vera giving me a look when it comes out too forcefully.
Lady Gallor waves to someone else in the room.
“I must be going, but remember, my last evening here in the Rose House. I expect to see both of you.”
“We’ll be there,” Vera calls out as Lady Gallor takes her leave. With a quick spin, Vera interlocks her arm with mine. “Walk with me, Ariah.”
Together we stroll the room, examining the paintings but never speaking. People come in and out of the room until Vera and I are the only two left inside. It isn’t until the room falls silent when Vera stops.
She lets go of my arm and moves in front of a portrait.
I am way too concerned wondering what this woman is up to, to notice the portrait is of a group of people on a summer’s day.
There is a lake in the background with swans floating atop it.
In the front is a gazebo covered in blooming flowers, and two women are painted on the steps.
One of them is my mother, and the other has long, wavy hair with deep red lips.
“Is that your mother? Our parents were friends?”
“Partners.” Vera’s tone is cold, and all the light is gone from her face. I knew it was too good to be true.
“Your first lesson. Never let personal feelings get in the way of the job. Your loyalty is always to the Queen.” She steps closer. “A lesson your mother didn’t comprehend.”
There is about an inch of height difference between us, and we nearly come eye to eye when I close the gap between us. “Speak of me as you will, but my parents are off limits.”
She laughs at something sinister. “And is Ariah Tyddle going to be the one to stop me? Foolish girl,” she spits out mockingly.
And before I can reply, she pulls a dagger from her sleeve and locks her hand deep in my curls, spinning me around and pulling my head back so she can have easier access to my neck.
The metal is cold and stings my skin. “Ever threaten me again and I’ll have your blood stained on the floor before you can utter a sound.
I’ll do what my mother should have done years ago. ”
My head cocks at an uncomfortable angle, staring straight at a ceiling I didn’t notice is painted—I’d have more appreciation for its beauty if there wasn’t a blade to my throat.
Though out of sight, I recall a sculpture of a bird with a rather long neck resting to my right, which would now be on my left. I could try searching for it with my hand, but there is no guarantee I could reach it before Vera has her way.
I don’t doubt her ability to kill me. The Foxes have all been trained to carry out such deeds in a multitude of ways. But she’s not daft enough to risk the Foxes’ exposure to carry out some harbored vendetta.
There are sudden footsteps, and she pulls my hair tighter at their approach.
“I recall the Queen telling us all to play nice.” Chana sounds as if she’s used to this constant behavior. “She’s ordered all of us to her study. Alive.”
“And lesson number two”—Vera releases my hair and removes the blade before pushing me forward—“be like Chana here, and always show up for your partner.”
She pushes past Chana and me.
My scalp is burning and there is an alarming sensation around my neck. My shoulders rise and I feel my airways tighten. My hands can’t decide if they want to hold my neck or chest, so one rests on each.
“Ariah?” Chana’s voice is growing distant, and I take a few steps away from her.
In my pockets I dig for my spray. I release one spritz and hold it in. When I release my breath it’s as if a thousand pounds fall from me.
“Ariah?” Chana calls again and this time it’s clearer. “Vera likes to put borga on her blade. A poisonous algae she makes Sky go searching for. It numbs the skin and surrounding area but it’s not deadly.” I feel her hands at my neck. “It didn’t get into your bloodstream. You should be okay.”
“She said the lesson was about not taking things personally. That felt personal to me.” I find my composure.
“Vera is what I like to call the Queen’s mask.
She’s good at making people trust her. She wears many different faces and uses the best one to get close to her target.
Secrets are far easier to unravel the closer you are to a person.
” She tips her head to the exit. “The Queen hates belatedness. We should go.”