The Dawn of the End

by Kristen Ashley

  Or if he spoke to me.

  I lingered over my farewells (foolishly), then met Kyril at the door and allowed him to help me astride my horse.

  We were on our way back to the palace with my extravagant guard of four in formation in front of us and ten behind us when he began, “My queen—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I interrupted him to say, doing it smiling at a little girl on the red cobbles waving at me while her mother curtsied.

  “Did you talk to your friends about it?” Kyril pushed.

  “I do not want to talk about that either,” I answered, dipping my chin to a man whose eyes I caught before he bent at the waist my way.

  I did more smiling, dipping, head inclining, and gave a few children waves before Kyril educated, “Mars ignores them.”

  “Well, I am not Mars, am I?” I retorted.

  “I shall remain quiet from now on,” Kyril grumbled.

  Balls.

  I felt badly I took my foul mood out on him. It was not right.

  And making matters worse, him being quiet meant things could plague my mind I did not wish to think of.

  “Can you explain Miet to me?” I asked Kyril.

  “Your husband could explain,” he said by way of answer.

  It was me who was silent the rest of the way to the palace after that.

  However, when he helped me to dismount, he began, “Silence—”

  I looked into his eyes. “When you are first married, I will thank you to tell me how easy it is. Until then…”

  I said no more and swept by him, up the steps, and did this bracing, for I knew either Francesco, the palace overseer, or Angelo, Elpis’s secretary, would beset me the moment my foot was over the threshold.

  This would include a variety of questions and demands for answers, ranging from what guests we may have that night and into the coming weeks, what I wished to feed them if they were dining with us, to if Mars and I deigned to climb the Sheeonee to attend some clansman’s cousin’s wedding.

  I was not wrong.

  It was Francesco (with Angelo hanging back, looking anxious), who practically fell upon me.

  “Your Majesty,” he said in Firenzii, for he spoke very little of my language. “The king requires your attendance with him in his study.”

  My heart took flight.

  Mars wanted to see me.

  Wanted this so much, Francesco won out on who would get to demand something of me first.

  This meant, I was certain, that Mars meant to apologize.

  I knew he would, and I was so very happy this dissension would finally be over, that he would come back to our bed, our marriage, me, I smiled brightly at Francesco.

  “I will attend him straight away,” I said. “Thank you.”

  He looked confused at my bright smile (and I did not blame him, I had not been very bright of late), bowed again, and I dashed past Angelo with another brilliant smile that had him blinking.

  “And I will be with you shortly,” I told him while on the move, now being able to ask Mars questions, I’d actually be able to give Angelo answers. “Or as soon as I can.”

  And I hoped that was not too soon, for after he apologized to me, I would allow him to ravish me on the carpets of his study.

  I then darted down the hall, suppressing my smile (for the now), and it felt like my sandals were skimming air when I saw his study door open.

  I was in such a rush, I was not able to slow (or halt) when I heard the thunder of his laughter but steps before I turned into his doorway.

  Thus, it was there I stopped, only to see him leaning against the front of his desk, his head thrown back, the rich sound of his humor filling the room.

  And an absolutely stunning Firenz woman sat before him in a chair.

  She had clouds of thick, dark hair and was wearing not a brassiere but a top (that still cut off below her breasts) with cap sleeves and skirts of orange satin with deep purple falls of chiffon.

  All of this was bespangled with tassels and beading and sequins. But there were triangular panels at her hips adorned with purple jeweled chevrons that were absolutely sheer.

  She was lush. She was sumptuous.

  And she was smiling white, blinding and ravenous at my husband.

  I was about to step away when her head turned to look over her shoulder and her winged brows rose.

  “Well, is this our little queen?” she asked.

  Our little queen?

  Mars ceased laughing and looked to me.

  “Indeed,” he said, lifting his chin my way. “Silence, come meet Ines. Farah’s cousin.”

  I moved into the room slowly.

  Ines stood just as slowly, and I noted, with all the bowing and curtsying I received, she did neither.

  Her eyes moved up and down the length of me.

  “And all the talk is true,” she purred. “For our queen has quite a way with a garment.”

  I really did wish people did not speak so much about what I wore.

  That said, it was with receiving a knowing look that I had asked Tril to bring the pale pink silk that morning.

  It had two very thin straps over each shoulder from which drapes of material hung, covering my breasts, with a very deep plunge in between. The drapes were held to my body by a belt of the same material.

  There was no back. The silk that covered my behind held in place by the four thin straps that held the front.

  And as you pulled it on like a dressing gown, the two sides came together at the front, meaning when I walked, quite a bit of leg was exposed.

  I wore my hair in a bundle of curls at the top and it was threaded with gold chains on which were affixed tiny seed pearls.

  The silk was clingy, the gown revealing, it was meant to garner attention.

  And my husband was entertaining a beautiful woman in his study.

  I moved to standing between the two chairs in front of Mars’s desk and looked up at her, lamenting my lack of height for perhaps the millionth time since I gained conscious thought.

  “Ines,” I said. “Lovely to meet any family of Farah.”

  “Your queen,” she replied oddly.

  I did not understand her words.

  But I did feel Mars’s reaction to this.

  As did Ines.

  Thus, she smiled enchantingly at him. “I’m sorry, Mars. Of course, she is my queen, but she is Dellish, so in a sense, our Farah is hers.”

  “A queen has no queen, Ines,” Mars stated in a flinty voice, and it was at that I fully understood her words.

  Thus, I fought seething.

  She dipped her chin in a way that seemed an invitation and murmured, “Of course.”

  “You’re in the city for how long?” I broke into their discourse.

  Ines looked to me. “Oh, I don’t know. At least through Miet.”

  “You’ll of course dine with us this evening,” I invited.

  “Yes, of course, for Mars has already asked me.”

  I tipped my head back and to the side to look at him, finding him peering down his nose at me.

  Blankly.

  It was not my favorite expression of his, but it was all I had been treated to since our quarrel (if I saw him at all).

  “Well,” I stated, again shifting my attention to Ines. “I shall tell Francesco you’ll grace our table tonight. But I’m afraid I will have to get to know you then, Ines. I’ve been away, visiting a friend, and not seeing to my duties. I’m sure my secretary is keen to get me to my desk.”

  “How extraordinary,” she murmured. “You’ve already made friends in Firenze?”

  I stiffened, wondering why she would say such, and forced through tight lips. “Yes.”

  “Hmm, I would be about much different endeavors as a new bride,” she remarked.

  “Yes, well, when you are one, you will not also be a new queen,” I retorted.

  Her eyes flashed with ire.

  “Until dinner,” I murmured, sliced my gaze across Mars’s chest
and kept murmuring, “My king.”

  And then I turned and walked out of the room.

  With determined steps, I strode down the hall, catching Angelo’s eyes, wondering why the man didn’t come to me for if he wanted me at my study, it was right across the hall from Mars’s.

  Nevertheless, upon seeing me, he looked relieved.

  This being, he did so until Tril veritably stumbled down the stairs into the entryway.

  “Silence!” she cried. “There you are. I need a moment.”

  Angelo’s expression turned beleaguered.

  I stopped at the foot of the stairs amongst them both.

  “I need to get to my study, Tril.”

  Although, what I’d do there, I had no idea, for I had very little idea what I was doing a’tall.

  “You didn’t…” She gazed down the hall, then at me, down the hall, and back to me. “Did I not catch you before you saw King Mars?”

  “No, you didn’t,” I told her.

  She examined me.

  She then turned to Angelo and asked for, “A moment.”

  His gaze came to me. “My queen, we really must—”

  He did not finish for Tril took my hand and was dragging me up the stairs.

  “A moment,” I said to Angelo, following her.

  She only went as far as the landing before she stopped us, facing me, and took my other hand.

  She then began babbling.

  “They wanted you to know, the staff that is, that it was nothing. It happened. It was over. It meant nothing. In fact, from what they could tell, he didn’t even like her.”

  I shook my head in confusion.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That chit in with King Mars.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “She causes troubles,” Tril went on. “This why they warned me to be sure to warn you. She’s the opposite of Farah. There was even talk about how some witch somewhere broke the dawn to separate the dark and the light, for they were born on the same day, nearly at the same time, this being at the dawn. That one down there first, then Farah. That one down there the dark. Farah the light.”

  I barely heard a word she said.

  It happened. It was over. It meant nothing. In fact, from what they could tell, he didn’t even like her.

  “Silence,” she shook my hands, “are you listening to me?”

  I focused on her.

  “I really need to know what Miet is.”

  She stared at me.

  “It’s crucial, Tril,” I continued. “What it is. How it’s celebrated. What has happened in the palace at Miets past. Can you ask the staff?”

  This had not yet occurred to me.

  Then again, I did not think they would share such things openly with Tril, not to mention, I was drowning in all things queen.

  “Yes, Silence, but…” Her head tipped to the side. “You are all right with that woman down there?”

  I.

  Was.

  Not.

  My husband was entertaining an old lover in his study.

  And he’d “required” my presence in order to introduce me to her.

  “I can trust Mars,” I said.

  “Of course you can,” Tril agreed. “But, she’s trouble, my lovely. And I do not know if you know what that means. More, you are not getting on with King Mars very well in the now.”

  I did not need that reminder…

  In the now.

  Or at all.

  “I know I can trust Mars,” I returned.

  And I felt I did know that.

  There was the fact that he was not happy she insinuated Farah was above me.

  However, other than that…

  “You can, of course you can,” Tril said, squeezing my hands.

  “So Tril, the Miet. And also, anything you can learn of the clans and tribes. Who are allies, who are not. Favorites of Mars. Those of Elpis. Anything. Everything.”

  “Right, of course.” She regarded me closely. “But, my love, you can ask Mars these things.”

  “It is good to know all, especially servant chatter.”

  “Which means you do not intend to ask Mars these things, when it is he who knows them best, also when it is high time you two worked out whatever is coming between the both of you.”

  “We will talk, I am certain,” I assured her.

  “When?” she asked. “He has not slept in your bed in six days.”

  I did not need that reminder either.

  “Tril, I have things to do,” I replied.

  Her hands held mine fast. “Silence, you have not been yourself these past—”

  “Tril!” I snapped. “I have things,” I tore my hands from hers, “to do.”

  She took a step back.

  I was instantly contrite.

  “Tril,” I whispered.

  “Yes, you do. You are queen, after all,” she declared before she turned, lifted her skirts and raced up the stairs.

  I closed my eyes tight.

  A lyrical peel of feminine laughter drifted down the hall from the direction of my husband’s study.

  I turned on my sandal and walked down the stairs.

  “To my study,” I said to Angelo.

  And as I led the way, sadly going in the direction of Mars’s, I thought, really.

  Angelo was Elpis’s secretary.

  There was no reason not to ask him what I should do.

  I was Dellish. I was a new wife. A new queen. I would not magically know what to do when thrown into my role with utterly no guidance whatsoever.

  And although I did not fancy becoming dependent on someone who was not close to me or a member of family, as my uncle did with Carrington with disastrous effects, it would have to do.

  For now.

  When we arrived, I did not look into my husband’s study.

  I turned into mine and ordered, “Close the door.”

  Angelo obliged.

  And then he explained in a roundabout way why he had waited down the hall for me to come to him.

  For in whispers, as if the woman had supernatural hearing (or Mars did), he told me about Ines, and indicated in a diplomatic way that I should proceed with her with great caution.

  Well, there was one good thing about that.

  At least I had learned the staff was willing to educate me.

  “And do you remember when…?”

  Balls and begorrah.

  This woman had the best memory in the history of Triton.

  I studied the stem of my wineglass which I was twisting with my fingers to and fro.

  Piccola hung from a lock of my hair.

  I heard Mars’s deep voice murmur something in response to whatever Ines was remembering now, for she had a great deal of memories that involved Mars.

  Scores.

  Scads.

  I decided ten more minutes I would endure the torture of their reminiscences (or hers, for Mars had not said much), before sharing I had a busy day the next day, offering my goodnight and heading to my chambers.

  “So, will you? Silence?”

  Her voice coming at me for the first time of our long-finished dinner caught me by surprise, and I looked to her.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked.

  “Will you go to the orgies for Miet?”

  I blinked at her.

  “No,” Mars decreed.

  Orgies?

  Angelo had said nothing about orgies.

  He had turned an alarming shade of red when I asked about the Miet, something which confused me for he then shared it was the celebration of the yield, that meaning of the crops, and went on to explain there was a good deal of food consumed and liquor imbibed.

  But he’d breathed no word about orgies.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I’d hoped the two of you would be there,” she mumbled, looking as if she was pouting. She quickly brightened, but did it in a catty way, and then asked Mars, “Do you remember when—?”

  “Ines,” Mars growled. />
  “What?” she queried with sham innocence.

  “If you intend to speak of what I think you intend to speak of in front of my wife, I would reconsider,” he advised.

  She shot him a dazzling smile.

  I felt bile rise in my throat.

  They had…

  At an orgy…

  Piccola chirruped.

  I stood.

  “Please, do not allow me to further interrupt this reunion,” I said, right to her. “It is clear you’ve spent some time apart, but were once very close, and you wish to bond over shared memories. I would simply love to know all about these, in detail, but I’m afraid I have a number of letters to write before I can be to bed. Though it was such a delight to meet you, Ines. I will be certain to mention you to Farah, one of the letters I shall be writing, you know, queen to queen. Now, please enjoy your visit to the city and the celebrations of Miet.”

  I then turned to Mars, bent to him, Piccola swinging from the lock of my hair, and I caught the point of his beard in my grip.

  His brows shot up.

  I bent, pressed my mouth hard to his, straightened inelegantly the second I felt his hand touch my waist, and mumbled, “My king.”

  “My queen,” he mumbled back, eyes dancing.

  Eyes bloody dancing!

  Of all the cheek!

  I glared at him, twirled, Piccola chirping gleefully as she went swinging, and I smiled as sweetly as I could at Ines.

  “Goodnight,” I bid.

  “And a goodnight to you too,” she replied on a nasty grin.

  “My queen,” Mars rumbled.

  I turned to him.

  But he was not addressing me.

  He was looking at Ines.

  “Scusa?” she asked.

  “As you’re aware, you could also address Silence as ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Your Majesty,’” Mars declared. “But it is one of those three until she gives you leave to address her elsewise. You have slipped in this during our discourse, and Silence is too kind to correct you. That left doing so to me.”

  Ines’s face hardened before she said dutifully to me, “And a goodnight to you too, my queen.”

  “Mm,” I hummed before I began to make my escape from the room on a billow of the pale pink silk of my frock.

  I did not make the doors before Mars called, “Do not remove that gown.”

  “I’m sorry?” I asked, turning his way.

  “Do not remove that gown,” my husband repeated. “I’ll be doing it.”