Chapter Two #2
The not-yet-queen returned from her travels and pleaded to Meya. Begging her to grant her a palace that would be a beacon to fae all over the country. Come and we will build a nation that will last for thousands of years. A shining jewel of this land and the next.
Meya’s response was to grant her this.
I stuck my face against the glass, lips parting in silent awe as we passed through the gates.
Soaring spires pricked the sky, boasting whipping flags too high for me to see, but I knew were the multicolored flags of Lyrica. Laced through the columns, stacks on stacks of sandstone were vining, snaking veins of deep-sea-blue coudarian crystals.
Miles away as I knelt in my vegetable patch, weeding and singing to Savia—my gaze would travel where everyone’s did, seeking the blueish glow in the distance.
Every evening and every morning, the traveling sun would hit the crystals just right and create exactly what our first Queen Wren asked for—a beacon.
The carriage stopped before the palace steps—a riot of stone and crystal leading to two grand doors that could welcome an army. I made to stand.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kirwan shoved me back down.
“The likes of you do not enter through the main doors. Adan will take the carriage around back. I’ve written instructions for him to give to the steward.
You will do everything he says. Go where he tells you.
Shut your mouth when he commands. Do you understand? ”
Kirwan didn’t wait for me to answer. Which was good because my reply would not have been polite.
He always spoke to me like I was stupid, but that was the single thing I was not.
I could not claim beauty, grace, humor, or riches, but I taught myself the theories of magic from the old books Mama’s callers once gave her.
Well enough that I used to correct the boys from Gutter Galley who did get to go to magic school.
Until, of course, they all stopped speaking to the know-it-all kakka.
The carriage door closed, giving me blessed peace. These were my last moments of freedom. The final minutes before nothing, not even my body, could be claimed as my own. The least Meya owed me was the mercy of not spending that time in Kirwan’s presence.
The horses encircled the palace, filling my eyes with its wonder. It’s said each fleck of crystal had been filled with power by kings past. If the faeriken ever attacked, the palace guards would draw on a millennium’s worth of stored power and fend them off for decades.
I wondered how effective that strategy was when they were already inside the gates.
Adan stopped the carriage before a much smaller set of double doors. I decided this was the kitchen entrance going by the baskets of vegetables kitchenhands were carrying inside. Adan opened my door and reached a hand in to help me out—showing the politeness he couldn’t when Kirwan was nearby.
“Can I read the note?” I asked as we approached the door.
Adan handed it over without hesitation.
I read it—half expecting orders to flay me when I mouthed off. I would’ve preferred that.
My teeth gritted reading that I was in debt to House Dawnbreaker, and all the coin I made was owed to Kirwan. If I ran away or tried to steal it, Meliora was to repay the debt in my place.
Of course Kirwan had to come up with some lie for why he should receive the one hundred and fifty kiruna instead of me or a broker. There’d be no point arguing that I owed him nothing. No one would take my word over an advisor to the king.
“As if I would run,” I said, handing it back. “Honor and loyalty to family are two things Kirwan knows nothing about.”
Adan gave nothing away—in speech or expression.
The manservant was a vault of secrets, but deep down I sensed he did not like Kirwan any more than I did.
He certainly never hesitated to give us water or sweets on the days Kirwan’s visits to the hut forced me and my siblings outside. I knew he brought them just for us.
We stepped inside and were bowled over by a tide of noise. This was nothing like the quiet, chilling Dawnbreaker home. Fae rushed all about—carrying food there, lifting trays here, and nodding and bowing acquiescence to a barking red-faced woman in an apron.
A grand kitchen it was. We could’ve fit all of Gutter Galley inside, and fed them well for months before another food delivery.
I swept over the feast of ripe fruit, roasted animals, and expensive wine. Who was all this food for? There was only King Salman and Princess Emiana left of the royal family after the death of the queen consort. Did they share this among the advisors and generals too?
Did Kirwan regularly feast on this rich and indulgent food, and yet he attempted to sell his only daughter for some coin? What did he need the money for? A bib?
Adan continued on, so I followed, carrying my anger with me. I would hold on to anger. It was an easier emotion to wrestle than the others lurking beneath the surface.
Adan led me into a small receiving room. I could tell right away this place was for guests, but not for ones the palace respected. Thirty or so women of various ages loitered around the dim, windowless room. A dank, musty smell of a room not often aired out hung over the space.
From the debris and dirt indentations, I guessed the room was used for storage. It had been cleared out and two small benches were placed inside—allowing only six women room to sit. The others leaned against the wall, throwing me horrified glances.
“What are you doing here, shoua!” Young woman. “Does Olene know you’re here?”
Myrna broke from the pack and bore down on me. A hand on my arm stopped her pulling me away. Turning, I blinked up at Adan as he clasped my hand in both of his, and bowed. The look in his eyes as he raised his head...
“Don’t do that,” I whispered, throat closing. “Makes it harder for me to believe I’ll be okay.”
He tried for a smile, and my heart broke in half. Adan never smiled—at me or anyone. He was telling me in every possible way... that he did not expect to see me again.
Releasing me, he held up the note and backed away. He was off to deliver Kirwan’s instructions to the steward. That was it for me and Meliora. Our fate would be sealed.
I let him go, penning in all the things I wanted to scream. Honor and loyalty to family. Kirwan did not understand these things, but I did. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Shoua.” A woman twenty years my senior and draped in a sheer, crimson dress—her best—tugged me into the center of the crowd. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.
“I had no choice, aya.” Elder. “It was either me or Meliora.”
“Kirwan,” Myrna hissed, lips peeling back from her teeth.
I didn’t need to confirm or deny, my mother’s friends knew what he’d put us through these last sixteen years better than anyone.
I wished I was surprised to see so many women from my part of town here, but who but us would need the money so badly that we’d face faeriken.
“Olene would never let him get away with this,” said Nashwa. She was younger than Mama, but you wouldn’t know it by the touch of wrinkles on her temples and gray weaving through her reddish locks. “What did he do to her?”
“He didn’t have to do anything because she doesn’t know, and you must promise not to tell her. She thinks I’ve taken a position as a housekeeper in the Dawnbreaker household.”
“She must know,” Myrna cried. “Faywen, do you understand why we’re the only ones in this room? Why a dozen more women were here but changed their minds and left too fast to remember their slippers? The faeriken—”
“I know,” I cut in, fighting the band constricting my throat.
“And that is exactly why I am here. I won’t stand for Meliora to be here in my place.
Please. Don’t tell her. The first time Kirwan hurt me, she refused him and we went hungry.
Kirwan spread through Lyrica that he’d ruin any man who touched her, and she didn’t see a single coin for months.
“Now that the sickness has taken her, and we have Jac, Gisela, and Savia, I can’t risk that happening again. It’s better that she believes I’m a housekeeper. I—I can start making real money now,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “And she won’t hurt for it.”
Myrna stroked my cheek. “You won’t keep a secret like this for long. You can’t. When it’s discovered, she’ll hurt twice as much for all the days she didn’t know.”
“I—”
Myrna’s gaze flicked up. Her eyes hardened. “Get behind me.”
“What? Why—?”
Myrna shoved me behind. I swallowed a cry as Mama’s friends kept tugging and pushing, dragging me back until I was pressed against the wall and they formed a blockade in front of me.
The door creaked open, inviting a welcome rush of fresh air, and a bobbing golden crown. Rising on tiptoe, I strained to see who came inside.
“Good morning, ayas.” A deep, pleasing voice, and it met with a thick silence. “Forgive me for interrupting but Cook got a bit overambitious in her preparations for tonight’s alnihaya feast.”
Alnihaya. For seven days and seven nights before a noblewoman marries, there are feasts, parties, and celebrations in honor of her last days as a maiden. Princess Emiana’s alnihaya had spread through all of Lyrica, inviting those who believed in this marriage to celebrate in the streets.
“Saffron pudding, roasted duck, and shaela bread.” Over their shoulders, I saw servants come in carrying trays, tables, and two more benches for us to sit. “Please, enjoy.”
No one moved.
Confused, I tried to push between them. Duck and saffron pudding? I could become the highest-paid war wife in Lyrica and saffron pudding would still be a luxury. What was going on? Why weren’t they descending on the food?
“I hear from the steward that there’s a new addition to your ranks.”
What? Could he be talking about me?
“There you are.”
I jerked, locking on with twin emerald jewels. Their owner smiled and his whole face lit up, knocking the breath out of me.