Reign Of Shadows: Rise Of Fire Part 7

"Have I seen you before, girl?"

My heart stuttered at the question and the implication. I looked familiar. "N-No, Your Highness. We've never met. I've never even been to Lagonia before."

He still clung my chin, looking me over. I held my composure and tried not to think about how I must look-shorn hair stiff with mud from the bowels of the earth. I clutched the shredded edges of my tunic with a single hand, hugging my modesty close.

There were so many people watching, devouring me with their judging eyes. I heard their low murmurs, and the shifting of countless slippered feet. Here they wore kid slippers that never stepped from the sanctuary of this city. They had no need of st.u.r.dy boots like I wore.

"You're familiar," the king finally concluded. "It will be interesting to see you without this layer of filth." He released my chin. "The rose suite it is."

He left me, ascending the steps.

"The rose suite is beautiful, Luna. It's in a corner tower. Excellent view," Chasan remarked, his tone conversational and cordial, as though I were an invited guest and not some manner of peasant in their eyes. "Enjoy it."

I nodded, my legs trembling as a servant arrived to lead me up the steps and into the palace.

TEN.

Luna

EVEN WHEN I lived in comfort with Sivo and Perla, I had never known luxury like what waited for me in the rose suite.

Three women attended me, chattering amicably as they dunked me in a copper tub full of warm, scented water-this after they exclaimed in horror over my shorn hair and ruined garments.

They gossiped. Names of people I didn't know bounced off me. It was just as well. It was hard to think as they lathered my aching muscles with sweet-smelling soap. One scrubbed at my nails, determined to rid them of their grime. My head drooped under their ministrations.

Any modesty I had in those early moments fled. They scrubbed every inch of my skin until it felt raw and new. Following that, they guided me out of the tub and wrapped me in a fluffy, stone-warmed towel. They led me over a plush rug to a thick cushioned bench positioned before a dressing table, where they proceeded to lather me with lotions that made my skin sigh in appreciation. I perked up at the mention of Chasan's name.

"Did you hear about Prince Chasan and Susa?"

"The girl who works in the laundry?"

A knowing hmm responded to that. "That's what you get for aiming above your station," the servant woman added. "She always did think too highly of herself."

The servant who was rubbing a silky mixture in my hair clucked her tongue. "What was she thinking? He would make her his queen? Ha! The fool."

The three of them made sounds of agreement over this. I listened, fascinated despite myself.

"That Susa never did possess a peck of common sense. Everyone knows that Prince Chasan enjoys a pretty face. Only the very stupid think they can matter to him beyond the moment."

"Well, Susa's just like her mother. Fair of face, empty of head." More laughter followed, but I was beginning to get a sense of who the prince of Lagonia was. I had heard the arrogance in his voice, but now I knew the full extent. He was handsome and powerful, preying on the girls of his kingdom.

Once I was clean and feeling like a new person, they dressed me in a gown that laced up at the front.

"We need to fatten you up," one of the women said, offering me a tray of iced biscuits. I knew the pastries were before me instantly. I smelled the sticky-sweet icing as my fingertips sank into the goodness. I moaned as I bit into one, the warm biscuit giving way under my teeth the same moment the creamy icing hit my tongue. It was bliss.

"Careful not to get it on your gown," one of the servants chided.

I nodded and reached for another one, practically shoveling it into my mouth.

"Gor, never did see such a little thing eat with such a fury."

A heavy door creaked open. I didn't stop inhaling the biscuit, a.s.suming it was another servant; a female from the sound of her slight tread.

I plucked a third biscuit and proceeded to devour it as thoroughly as I did the first two.

A slight giggle penetrated my love affair with the delicious pastries.

"Careful there. You might eat your fingers." This new arrival didn't sound like the other servant women. Despite her giggling, her voice was youthful and she fairly bounced as she walked, the fine satin of her gown swishing as she advanced into the room.

I chewed fiercely, trying to swallow the last bit of biscuit. Holding fingers to my lips, I attempted an apology.

"Oh, I'm just teasing. Keep eating. You look as though you need it."

I gulped down the last of my mouthful. "It's very good," I said as an attempt at an excuse.

"Cook is a wonder. He could make a stick of wood the most scrumptious thing to cross your lips. Not that I've ever eaten wood."

I smiled at her exuberance and shook my head. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm prattling on." She cleared her throat. "I'm Maris, princess of Lagonia."

King Tebald's daughter? How many children did he have? Would another one appear?

At the awkward stretch of silence, I realized she was waiting for my introduction. "Oh. h.e.l.lo. I'm Luna."

"I know. I've heard all about you. You were traveling with Prince Fowler. How exciting! Tell me of your travels together."

I blinked at the strangeness of that. Only someone who had little to no exposure to the Outside would say such a thing.

"You've heard all about me?" I echoed.

"Yes."

I nodded, wondering what all she could have heard about me since there was essentially nothing any of them knew about me. Who had she been talking to? Chasan? What had he told her?

"You must tell me everything." She plopped down on the bench next to me, crushing my skirts beneath her.

I tugged them out from under her. "About what?"

"Fowler, of course."

"Fowler?" I repeated dumbly as one of the women behind me began snipping at my hair, evening out the ragged and jagged ends.

"Yes, silly. Is he as handsome as rumored?" She giggled as though we were lifelong friends. An unusual sensation. I'd never had a friend-especially of the female variety. "Father won't permit me to visit him yet, but I will, never fear. Later this evening I intend to see him, in fact."

"I-I'm sure," I answered, still feeling slightly bewildered by her interest in Fowler. I didn't feel sure of anything about this girl . . . except that she reminded me a great deal of her arrogant brother.

She leaned forward, bringing her voice closer and crushing my skirts again. "I need to know something, anything about him. I've waited all my life to meet him."

"Fowler?"

"Yes," she retorted, and this time she sounded exasperated. "We've only been betrothed since my birth."

My stomach bottomed out at her words. It was a casual utterance for her, but it cut me like a blade. I pressed a hand against my diving stomach.

She must have read some of my reaction. "Are you . . . what's wrong? Did I say something? You look pale."

I shook my head and ducked, averting my face as a lump rose up in my throat. "No. I'm fine."

The surge of emotion I felt wasn't right. Even if I hadn't been running from Fowler and racing headlong into a fate that did not include him, he had turned his back on this shining world-on this girl. He had turned his back on his father and whatever betrothal had been arranged for him. Except he was here now. Because of me. I squashed the niggle of guilt. I might be the reason he was here, but he could have died out there.

"Well, come now, then. Don't be so reticent. Tell me about Fowler."

I cleared my throat. She pressed closer on the bench, the soft linen of her gown brushing my arm.

I shouldn't feel this awful swell of heat in my face. It shouldn't hurt to realize this girl sitting beside me was his fate-even if he had walked away from it. She was the fate he was running from . . . and I was beginning to realize that it was impossible to run from your fate.

My whole life I had been hiding from Cullan, avoiding the death intended for me. I should have died that day alongside my parents. Sivo and Perla had stolen me from that fate, but now I would embrace it for the survival of others, for the good of the kingdom that I had been born to rule.

The princess sitting next to me was still talking, but I didn't hear her-not the actual words coming out of her. I understood her perfectly. She wanted Fowler. Without even knowing him, without even meeting him or seeing him, she wanted him. And she would have him.

She was still talking beside me, her words falling into place. "How did you come to be together? Was he journeying here to finally meet me?" As if a journey across two countries in this day and age was a simple matter? As if the eclipse had never happened and the world wasn't doused in dark brutality. "Has he spoken of me at all?"

I snorted. No. He had conveniently left out any mention of a betrothed.

"I only recently learned that he was a prince." That much was the truth at least. "I don't believe he wanted it common knowledge that he was the prince of Relhok."

"Why ever not?" She tsked. "It's his right. His due."

The girl was nave. Did she think a royal prince should announce his ident.i.ty? Especially on the Outside, where enemies could hunt him for ransom? I was still not convinced that these Lagonians knowing the truth of his ident.i.ty was a good thing.

The woman working on my hair began pinning and twisting the ma.s.s atop my head. The bottom strands were too short to be pinned, so they fell loose to curl against the nape of my neck.

"You'll have to ask him." I shrugged as if what he was to me was of little consequence. "When he wakes, I'm sure you will have much to discuss."

Princess Maris sighed happily. "Indeed. I cannot wait for that moment." She leaned forward and began rifling through one of the serving women's baskets. "Here, put the pearl drops in her hair."

"Yes, princess." The woman began stabbing the little pearls randomly throughout my hair, sometimes poking my scalp.

"Ah, I knew it. Lovely against your dark hair," Maris murmured. "Don't you think?"

I nodded.

"Come, Luna. You did not even look at the mirror."

Discomfort at being put on the spot made my skin itch. I deflected the question with one of my own, airily waving my hand. "Why are we going to such trouble with my appearance?"

"We dress for dinner."

"I'm to dine with you?"

"Yes, Papa insists. Er, or maybe it was Chasan." She shrugged beside me, the motion sending a waft of floral scent circling the air. I knew about fragrances. Perla had told me she used to be a skilled perfumer. She'd made signature scents for my mother and every lady at court. No use for such extravagances these days. The last thing we want is some sweet fragrance leading dwellers to our door.

Sound logic, but nothing that seemed to affect them locked away safely inside this mountain castle. It was as though they lived here untouched by the eclipse.

Maris stood. "You look ready. Come along. We can go in together. I hope you did not ruin your appet.i.te with all those iced biscuits. Although Cook will be glad to hear that you approve of them."

"I can still eat," I a.s.sured her, rising to my feet, smoothing sweating palms over my skirts. I'd worn dresses plenty of times in the tower, but it felt odd to be in skirts again-as though years had pa.s.sed since the last time and not a mere month.

Princess Maris looped her arm through mine. "You look lovely. You shall have to beat the swains off with a stick."

I smiled, but it felt more like a grimace as I marveled at what a strange world I had entered. I didn't want the attention of a bevy of swains, but maybe it would offer some distraction during my brief time here-because I wouldn't be staying.

Dinner was no small affair. I heard the din long before we entered the cavernous hall. My steps slowed. "How many people are eating with us?"

"It's full court this evening," Maris replied, urging me to resume walking. "Papa is in a celebratory mood." I could only infer that this was because of Fowler. "Several n.o.bles and their families reside here in the palace. They've been here as long as I can remember, keeping safe in the city rather than venturing out to whatever is left of their estates. When Papa feels like it, he invites them all to sup with us in the great hall. The company provides a diversion."

Ainswind was an alien world buried within the darkness I knew. As we strolled down the wide corridor, my slippers whispering over a lush runner, the warmth from lit sconces bathed my face, drenching me in light. This place hummed and glowed with no fear of monsters.

None of this is real. None of this is real.

The words rushed through me, a reminder that I should not be lulled into safety. No place was wholly safe. Even this fortified castle.

I couldn't stay. I had my mission. I wouldn't forget it. I couldn't. Every day I remained here, every moment that pa.s.sed, more girls died. Cullan needed to be stopped. The first chance I got, I would put this place far behind me. Once I a.s.sured myself that all was being done for Fowler that could be, I would leave this bewildering place. If they tried to stop me, then I would find a way out on my own. It wouldn't be the first time I'd executed an escape.

The voices grew louder as we approached, and I had to fight every instinct to not turn and flee. I felt more vulnerable than usual in this strange new place. Sounds, smells, people . . . it was long ingrained in me to avoid those things that attracted dwellers.

The Outside, for as much as it carried death in its fold, felt more like home to me. Here I was exposed, no weakness concealed. I flattened a hand over my racing heart, where so much skin lay bared. After pretending to be a boy, the exposed skin felt odd, too.

"Now, I can't sit with you . . . as much as I would like to." She patted my hand as we entered the bustling hall. The s.p.a.ce was large, the air churning around me and lifting high into vaulted ceilings. "There is a seating protocol, but I shall place you beside someone charming. Trust me."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

"That's me," she trilled. "Oh la! Look at all the eyes on you. I told you that you looked fetching. We don't get too many new faces. I can count on both hands the number of guests we've had over the years. You shall be all the rage."

"I'm sure I won't," I murmured-or rather, I hoped.