The Golden Cage (A Dance of Dragons #0.5)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Marriages were supposed to be happy things, but Leena could not remove the ribbon of panic knotting her insides. With every passing hour, she was brought closer and closer to her father's attention. And in a few short minutes, all eyes would be on her.

  Her sister's wedding had taken place that afternoon in the garden terrace with the sun god playing witness as well as most of the city. It had been beautiful, not that Leena paid much more attention than sitting silently with a smile on her face, a mask covering her growing neurosis, her tumultuous and distracting emotions.

  During the ceremony, her sister had been the center of attention. But now, the celebrations were about to begin. Tonight, every lord in Da'astiku would approach the king, asking to wed his son to the newest available princess of the kingdom. Unfortunately, Leena was next in line—a shiny gold coin they would now all want to own.

  The same thing had happened to Fayrih. In less than four months after their elder sister's wedding, she was engaged to a wealthy noble house, chained and bound to this city forever.

  Leena vowed never to share that fate.

  She glanced in the mirror, confused by the woman who stood before her. Pale skin from a lifetime spent pampered indoors, naturally olive, begging for the sun. Dark ebony hair that fell down in curled tresses, uncut for most of her life, now twisted and spun into an overflowing knot atop her head. Large eyes, too large for her petite face, with golden accents painted all around, bringing out the honey in her irises.

  A princess.

  But it was not how she saw herself. This girl was weak, demure, meant for nothing other than a life of birthing sons. Leena wanted so much more for herself. She was stronger than that fate.

  "Almost done, my Princess," her maid said. Leena smiled her consent—she was used to these preparations. A few more metal trinkets in her hair and it would be complete.

  She stared into the mirror, looking behind her face and toward her bed. Hidden underneath, scrunched among her dress boxes, was a small suitcase, almost filled.

  Mikza had gathered peasant clothes for both of them, dried food reserves, and weapons just in case. Leena had stolen gold coins and a few pieces of jewelry from her vast collection. Not enough to go unnoticed in this palace, but enough for some people to live off for a lifetime.

  There was only one more item they needed in order to leave. One Mikza promised he could find tonight.

  "Time for your veil, my Princess."

  Leena refocused her gaze, watching as elegantly woven chain-link gold was dropped over her face. So odd that so much time and effort went into beautifying her features, only to have them covered up and hidden from the world.

  "Stop," Leena said, lifting a hand. "I will do it myself. Please leave, I would like a few minutes alone."

  Mikza waited outside her door, guarding it, as was his duty. But she wanted to see him just for a minute without metal hanging over her eyes, slightly obscuring her vision.

  "As you wish, my Princess."

  Her maid turned and left, closing the door softly behind her. Leena stood, eyes still on the stranger before her. The dress was new, sewn especially for this occasion. Her sleeves were open and translucent, revealing the tattoos that painted her arms. The golden silks flowed around her narrow frame, elongating her legs. An ornate belt cinched her waist, sparkling with diamonds, matching the coins around her ankles. Every time she stepped, she jingled slightly.

  What would it be like to wear dull brown garments, roughly woven so they scratched the skin? To be able to dress herself? To show her face, rather than cover it with lotions and powders and veils?

  To be with Mikza in the daylight, surrounded by other people without fear of discovery?

  Would she ever feel so free?

  The knot squeezed tighter. Leena took a deep breath, pushing her stomach against her belt as far as it would go, trying to calm her rising nerves. For some reason, she could not shake this feeling of dread rising inside her.

  A knock sounded. Two fast followed by one slow. Their sign.

  Her anxiety lifted slightly as she walked to the door, opening it to let Mikza inside.

  "I found it," he said, excited as he entered and quickly shut the door behind him. He pulled a small jar from his pocket, holding it so Leena could see. There was no label, but she knew what it was.

  A very expensive lotion. A lotion created to perfectly match her skin-tone. Thin enough to easily slide over her arms, but thick enough to hide the black swirls branding her as princess. In a country where tattoos meant class and everyone spent the days with arms uncovered in the heat, this lotion was her only ticket to freedom.

  And it had cost a fortune.

  Mikza had found a merchant used to working outside the law, a man he would normally have arrested, but instead paid very well to procure this ointment for them.

  Leena ached to try it, to cover her arms and run that very instant, but instead she covered Mikza's hands with hers and kissed him quickly.

  "We should leave tonight, after the celebration," she pleaded. The knot in her stomach was lessening now that she knew they had everything they needed. "Everyone will be resting, probably drunk and not at all on guard. The palace will be quiet."

  "I agree," he said, and she released a heavy breath, forcing the tension from her body. Tonight. She had a timeline now, a countdown to freedom. She was almost out of her father's grasp. "Keep this with you, in case anything happens. Is there anywhere you can hide it?"

  Leena looked down at her gown. The jar was smaller than her fist, but there were no pockets, no folds that could hold it.

  "I will have to keep it here," she said and pulled the glass free from his grip. Their bag was sandwiched too far under her bed to retrieve now, but there was nowhere else she trusted the vial to remain hidden.

  Her clothes belonged to the maids that dressed her. It was their job to rifle through her drawers. And the topside of the bed belonged to the servants who snuck in every morning to carefully pull her sheets back into place and fluff the pillows. Even in her room, nothing truly belonged to just her.

  Nothing, except…

  Leena jumped into action, remembering the one thing no one would dare touch. On the lower shelf of her bedside table rested a jeweled box, just large enough to hold her shoes. But it held something much more precious. A lock of her mother's hair, a strand of her pearls, and the note she had written her unborn child in case it was a girl and they would never meet. Even in this place so devoid of love, the servants knew to leave those possessions alone.

  Careful not to wrinkle her dress, Leena knelt down and slipped the little jar into her mother's box, hoping an angel would protect it.

  Mikza dropped a hand on her shoulder. She felt his skin through the thin layer of her dress, warm and inviting. Leena stood, meeting him, sharing words without needing to speak. He brushed his fingers along her cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup, just light enough to make her skin buzz.

  Leena did not need to be so cautious, and she gripped his arms, never wanting to let go, wishing that if she just held on strong enough he could carry her away.

  "I should leave," he sighed. They had been too long already. He started to turn away, but Leena would not let go.

  "If this is to be my last ball, I want to dance with you. Just once, I want to be all dressed up, staring at the man I love, smiling and not pretending."

  His eyes softened and his hand fell to her waist, gripping her ribs just above her belt, a little higher than was proper. With his other hand, he traced the length of her arm, searching for and eventually finding her fingers.

  "Just once, I will be the man you are dancing with," he whispered, "instead of the man watching from the shadows."

  There was no music, but at the same time, Leena felt she heard strains of a melody on the breeze. A secret song meant just for them, a beat they both stepped to, swayed their hips to. The coins around her ankles sounded like bells, beautiful and melodic as she f
ollowed Mikza's lead. Leena wished to let her head fall against his chest, to pull him close, but she could not risk damaging her carefully created face, not if her father actually did choose tonight to finally notice her.

  So instead, she let the feel of his muscles shifting below her fingers, coiling and releasing, lull her. The perfect curve of his smile brought one to her lips, the twinkle in his eyes, she was sure, did the same.

  Time seemed to stop, and then he pushed her away, spinning her in a wide triumphant circle, only to pull her close again, laughter adding to their song.

  Leena could stay like this forever.

  But they both seemed to sense when their time drew to an end.

  "Tonight," Leena whispered, like a prayer.

  Mikza nodded, reaching for the door, but before he got there, the knob moved, twisting, scratchy and rough in Leena's ear.

  Her jaw dropped, eyes widening, and Mikza jumped to the side just as the door swung open. His body was still visible, a thin shadow cast along the floor, but he was mostly hidden behind the now open frame.

  "Leenaka?"

  She couldn’t breathe. It was her elder sister, Yasmine, dressed up for the ball.

  "Is someone else in here?"

  Leena found her voice, rushing toward her sister to keep her from stepping any farther into the room.

  "No, of course not. I was just singing to myself. Are you ready to go?"

  "I did not see your guard, is he not supposed to be here as your escort? Even in the palace, your safety is not assured."

  Leena rolled her eyes, trying her best to look exasperated. "Yes, I know. I have heard the same lecture before, but I sent him off early to the ball. I was hoping for a few minutes alone."

  "Nervous?" Her sister smiled, putting up a display of nicety but only to hide the sinister undertone of that statement. They looked similar, but Leena had no foolish notions of affection from Yasmine. Siblings, especially twelve girls, were not encouraged to love one another, not in this family. Each had their own mother to mourn, their own marriage to secure, their own ploys to gain the attention of their father. No, competition was the Ourthuri way, not love.

  Yasmine was older, married, and a mother. But that did not mean she would not rat Leena out to their father if she thought it might gain his favor.

  "Of course not, why should I be?" Leena shrugged, innocently widening her gaze and raising her eyebrows. "It is my turn next, though I guess someone as old and wise as you barely remembers what it was like before you were engaged. I bet you can hardly recall the rush of having suitors begging for a dance."

  Her sister's smile faltered. "Yes, the foolish whims of teenage girls are behind me. Are you ready to leave? I will walk you, so you do not dishonor this house meandering the halls alone."

  "Thank you, Yasmine. I trust you always have my best interest at heart. I will just need a moment to put on my veil."

  Leena stepped backward, hoping her sister would not follow, unsure if Mikza was well enough hidden for scrutiny. But Yasmine just waited in the doorway with arms crossed, a slight scowl dirtying her otherwise lovely face.

  Quickly, Leena grasped her veil, fixing the crown in the bed of her hair and slipping in two gold clasps to keep it steady. She kept her eyes on Yasmine as best she could, watching her sister's gaze travel around the length of her room, searching for some secret. But her expression never changed to one of victory. Her cool stance never lightened. And before she could look any further, Leena turned back around, ready to face the party.

  Sparing just one quick glance at the door, wishing she could say goodbye and look into Mikza's eyes one more time before the ball, Leena followed her sister outside.

  Four