Stella and Sol Box Set

by Kimberly Loth

  “A little. But mostly I’m happy. Pieter is going to make a good husband.”

  Zwaantie shuddered. “Seventeen seems too young to get married.”

  Luna tugged at Zwaantie’s hair and gave her a grin in the mirror. “I’m only a year older than you. Careful, I’ll bet the queen will be looking for your husband soon.”

  Zwaantie shook her head violently, and her braid went flying. “I told Mother that I wasn’t ready last month when she tried to sit me next to one of the lower princes at dinner.” Now that Raaf was home, Mother would be even more insufferable. Zwaantie was too young. She had to find a way to stall her mother.

  “Your mother was married at fifteen. She probably thinks you’re long overdue.”

  “She was deeply in love.” Zwaantie hoped her mother would let her marry for love. Mother had been a merchant’s daughter. Father was the high prince and fell in love with her on sight. The problem was that she wasn’t ready to start the search now.

  “I hope so. For your sake. Love is pretty amazing.” Luna’s eyes got that dreamy look she had every time she talked about Pieter. Zwaantie wanted that. She wouldn’t settle for anything less, and she certainly didn’t want to think about it for at least another two years. Maybe even longer. Mother and Father could still rule for a few years. Surely she didn’t literally mean as soon as Raaf returned. Maybe she could talk her mother into letting her wait.

  Luna fixed the braid, and Zwaantie spun around. “Okay, you’ve done your duties with me today. You don’t need to do anything else. Go home and get ready for your wedding. I’ll see you just after noon.”

  Luna nodded. “You don’t have to come. Really.”

  “Of course I do. You’re my best friend.”

  Luna gripped her hands. “Thank you.”

  Luna slipped on her shoes and clip-clopped out the door. Another slave appeared in Zwaantie’s doorway only seconds later.

  “You’re needed in the great hall, Your Highness.”

  Zwaantie hurried out of the room. Her steps were loud, but then so were all the rest of those bustling about. Zwaantie saw people from all the lower kingdoms. The lower prince of Haul chatted with Princess Luus. Good, maybe he’d marry her, and he’d be off the table. She glanced around for Princess Cornelia to reintroduce her to Raaf, but couldn’t find her.

  Apparently, a new chancellor was a big deal. Though, Zwaantie thought, this was dumb. Everyone knew the Grand Chancellor had no real power. He was a face; that was all. Someone who let people think they actually had a choice. Someone to advocate for them with the Voice. But the Voice did whatever it wanted anyway.

  The Voice did more than just scold. For small indiscretions, it would shame, and for larger ones, it would create physical pain. Most times the pain went away on its own. Bad things still happened on occasion because the Voice had no warning that the person was going to steal or lie. They would confess to their local chancellor when the pain got bad enough, and he gave their name to the grand chancellor, who would plead for the poor soul’s sanity with the Voice. Sometimes the Voice listened, and sometimes it did not. Zwaantie had never done anything bad enough to have to confess. Which was good because now she’d have to confess to her brother. She didn’t want him knowing the things she’d done. Though she had thought about doing bad things from time to time.

  Zwaantie entered the grand hall from the back of the room. Sunlight streamed through the glass on the ceiling. Large white banners with the symbol of the sun hung from rafters. Zwaantie wove her way through the throng of people to the front. Most didn’t even notice her, thank the stars. Because if they did, she’d have to make awkward conversation and submit to their fake bows and suck ups.

  She climbed the stairs to the thrones. Mother and Father were already seated. She gave a quick curtsey to both and then took her seat in the smaller throne next to Mother.

  “There are a lot of people,” Zwaantie said.

  “A new grand chancellor is an exciting time. We’re so proud of your brother. He’s really stepping into his role. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

  Zwaantie rolled her eyes.

  Stop that.

  Now that Raaf was back, Zwaantie would have to endure the constant comparisons. She was quite aware that her parents wished Raaf had been born first. Then he could be king. Which meant she would’ve been free to do what she wanted since chancellors were all men. Her life would’ve been easier. There would’ve been no expectations.

  “Yes, Raaf will do an excellent job. Where is he anyway?” He’d barely said a word to her since he arrived home yesterday. He was at dinner, but spent most of the time talking to Mother and Father about boring politics.

  “A few last-minute ceremonies. What they do out here is simply for show. The real act of passing on the chancellor’s staff is done in private.”

  “Well, maybe the Old Mother will come and spice things up.”

  Mother gasped, and Father shook his head at her.

  Do not speak of such things.

  Zwaantie gave them a cheeky grin. She made the same comment every time there was a ceremony of sorts. The Old Mother was a legend who everyone feared. Zwaantie had never met her or even met someone who had, but the legend was that she would show up at grand events and make a terrifying prophecy that could only be avoided if someone made a great sacrifice. Luna told her they had the Old Mother legends in Stella as well. Zwaantie supposed that was why she was so fascinated with the stories. They crossed the borders.

  A hand came down on her shoulder. “Nice color, Zwaantie.”

  Zwaantie smiled at her brother. He was handsome with his own purple robes. His face had relaxed. Maybe he had just been nervous about today and would turn back into her Raaf after this.

  She looked to Phoenix and gave him a small smile. He returned it, and her heart fluttered. She let out a breath. His smile was going to be the end of her. She focused on Raaf.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I hope so. This is just a formality.”

  He moved past her, his stony face back, bowed to his parents, and took his seat. Phoenix stood behind him. Pieter stepped through a door and stood behind her father.

  “What’s Pieter doing here?” she hissed to her mother.

  “He’s your father’s slave. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Mother cocked her head at Zwaantie like she couldn’t understand why Zwaantie would even think such a thing. Zwaantie often sent Luna home early or gave her breaks during the day, but Mother never did the same for Ariel. She had that poor woman working from the time the gray skies cleared until thirty minutes before everyone had to be locked in their rooms.

  “He’s getting married today. He should have the day off.”

  Mother shook her head. “Your father will release him after the ceremony.”

  Zwaantie frowned. “And then he’ll be back for dinner, right?”

  “Of course. All the lower kings are here. Your father needs help dressing for dinner, and he needs a slave to attend to him during the meal.”

  Zwaantie had meant the question sarcastically. She couldn’t believe her father expected Pieter to come back. She supposed if he had many personal slaves like the lower kings and queens, it wouldn’t be an issue, but Mother and Father always thought that was too extravagant.

  “Can’t someone else attend to him tonight? Maybe Phoenix.”

  “Phoenix will be busy with your brother. Don’t be silly. They’re slaves, dear. They understand. This is their life.”

  Normally Zwaantie didn’t have issues with the slave system. It was set up so people didn’t starve, and for the most part, the slaves were treated well, but times like this she didn’t understand why they couldn’t even give them a small break. The system was implemented a few hundred years before. Zwaantie didn’t know how it even started.

  Her father stood, and the room hushed. With his broad shoulders and brilliant red robes, no one could mistake him for anyone other than the king. Zwaantie always admired
the way he led the people. He was beloved. She would not be. She didn’t know how to be a good queen.

  He held his arms wide and gave the crowd a smile he reserved for his kingdom. Every eye in the room was on him. Zwaantie stared into the crowd. Every color imaginable was represented. Clothes in Sol only came in solid colors. Royalty chose whatever they wanted. Nobility wore every color but purple. Merchants were not allowed to wear red. Peasants wore only yellow and blue. Slaves wore gray.

  “Welcome to Zonnes on this glorious occasion,” Father said. “It isn’t often we get to see the chancellor staff passed on. The last time was when I was but a child. I’m more than pleased to see this honor bestowed upon my son. Thanks be to Sol.”

  “Thanks be to Sol,” Zwaantie and the rest of the crowd repeated.

  Father took his seat and the current grand chancellor stepped in front of them. He wore bright white robes and carried a large golden staff.

  “Sol has been good to us and the Voice benevolent.”

  Mother nudged her. She’d zoned out, and now Raaf held the staff, and they were all standing. Stars. What had she missed?

  She brought her hands together to clap for him with the rest of the crowd. Most people had smiles on their faces, and she supposed she should be happy for him too, but this was just one more thing that would take him away from her.

  Chapter 4

  The Wedding

  Zwaantie hated mingling. She never said the right thing, and she hated talking about the affairs of the kingdom. Just once she’d like one of the princes to ask if she’d read his favorite story or ask about the babies she delivered.

  She was much happier just hanging out with Luna. Plus, at things like this, she always felt like people were just talking to her because she was the future queen. She never voiced her thoughts out loud. That would be rude.

  She glanced at the glass ceiling. The sun was nearly at high noon. She searched the crowd and found Father. Pieter still hovered behind him.

  “Father,” she asked, interrupting his conversation with the lower king of Sonnenschein.

  You shouldn’t interrupt.

  “Yes, dear?” He gave her his full attention. That meant he didn’t like the conversation he was currently in, because this was rare.

  “Pieter is getting married at noon. Don’t you think you should let him go?”

  Impertinent girl. Do not talk to your father that way. A small pain flashed across her head.

  Father pursed his lips and cocked his head. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Uh, yes. I forgot. Pieter, you may go. Be in my rooms by five to help me dress.”

  Pieter bowed to Father. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Behind Father’s head, Pieter mouthed “Thank you” to Zwaantie and disappeared. One boy rescued. Now she had to rescue another. She’d be lucky to get to the wedding on time. She found Raaf deep in conversation with the previous chancellor. Zwaantie tapped him on the shoulder, the earlier chastisement for interrupting still stinging.

  He turned to her and gave a forced smile. “Hello, dear sister. What can I do for you?”

  The old chancellor leaned on his walking stick. His face was wrinkled, and his eyes sunk so far back that they nearly disappeared. No wonder he was ready to give it up. She hoped the position wouldn’t be as hard on Raaf.

  “I’m going to Luna’s wedding.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Zwaantie frowned. “I think you should come with me.”

  He glanced down at her. “Why? It’s a slave wedding. I’ve got better things to do.” This was not like him at all. What was going on?

  “Because she was your friend too.”

  Raaf sighed. “She was my playmate when we were children. Honestly, Mother should’ve known better than that.”

  Zwaantie clenched her fists. She wasn’t going to win this one. “Well, I’ll take Phoenix with me then. He’ll be back in time to help you dress for dinner.”

  Raaf glared at her. “No, you won’t. I need Phoenix.”

  Zwaantie’s voice rose a couple of notches. “Why the dark would you do that? He’s her brother. He needs to attend her wedding.” She stomped her foot. This was ridiculous.

  Calm down.

  She seethed. Now the Voice wouldn’t even let her be angry.

  “Careful with your speech, Zwaantie. Someone might think you grew up on the streets of Stella. I need my slave. He’s not coming with you. You better go if you want to get there on time.”

  “Fishbrain,” Zwaantie muttered under breath.

  That was not appropriate. A small pain flashed across her forehead, but it was worth it.

  Raaf grabbed her arm. “You will not use that foul Stellan language in my presence again. I am the grand chancellor, and you will treat me as such.”

  Zwaantie ripped her arm out of his grip. “I thought you were my brother.”

  His eyes flickered, and for a second, she saw remorse. Good. Maybe he needed to be reminded.

  She stomped away and didn’t breathe again until she hit the hallway. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. What was wrong with Raaf? He was not the same person who went off to train. She couldn’t think about that right now because she had a wedding to attend and couldn’t be late.

  She raced to her room and grabbed her green cloak. Merchants wore green cloaks, so she wouldn’t stand out. She didn’t want to ruin Luna’s wedding by turning the attention on herself. Having the crown princess at a slave wedding would make everyone forget who was getting married.

  The air outside was getting cooler. Fall was on its way. Zwaantie loved the leaves changing color and the nicer temperatures. Plus, the mage wagons came over from Stella. That was her favorite thing. They came twice a year and brought new potions, but they also always had fun magic, things that weren’t technically allowed in Sol; yet, they somehow got away with.

  She made her way through the fields to the slave village. The chapel stood in the middle of the little neighborhood. Zwaantie had never been in this one before.

  She stepped inside and was surprised to hear the sound of laughter. Though the royal chapel was brighter, it was always a quiet, peaceful place—laughter was forbidden. Plus, slaves were normally somber and quiet. Luna wasn’t when she was around Zwaantie, but that was only when they were alone. Everyone in the pews was engaged in conversations with those around them. The atmosphere was happy, in spite of the dull gray color that permeated the room. From the clothes they wore to the bare rough stone walls.

  Zwaantie looked to the tinted window in the ceiling, and stared at the sun. Windows were perched over the top of the chapel, so no matter what time of day, you could find the sun. You could generally tell what time it was by what window the sun was in. It was high noon, so the sun was in the north window.

  “Sol be with me,” she muttered and closed her eyes, as was custom when one looked at the sun.

  Zwaantie took her place in the back of the chapel and sat, her hood on. She already stood out as everyone else was wearing gray, but no one said anything to her.

  The sounds in the chapel died, and Zwaantie turned. Pieter and Luna stood at the back holding hands, a ribbon tied around their wrists. It was a brilliant blue and was striking against the gold bands. Zwaantie rose, and as Luna passed her, she smiled.

  The minister stood in front of the tiny crowd and turned his face to the sun.

  He recited the wedding sermon, and Zwaantie watched Pieter and Luna. Pieter had only been at the castle for a year, but he and Luna had eyes for each other from the moment he showed up. She and Luna had many giggles in the evening when Luna would tell stories of her courtship. Zwaantie wasn’t surprised a month ago when Luna declared she was getting married. Zwaantie had hoped Luna wouldn’t rush things, but such was the way in Sol. When her mother decided that Zwaantie should get married, her own courtship would be only be three or four months.

  The ceremony was short, and at the end, Pieter kissed Luna. Zwaantie felt a small pang of
jealousy. No man had ever looked at her that way. Would she ever find love like that?

  Zwaantie followed the crowd out of the chapel and waited behind others to congratulate the couple. She lowered her hood, revealing herself. Immediately everyone dropped to the ground and pressed their faces to the dirty street. Zwaantie grabbed both Pieter and Luna before they could bow as well. She hadn’t wanted to reveal herself, but if a royal gift was to be given, it had to be public.

  “Stay,” she said to Luna and Pieter.

  Luna took a deep breath and made no move, so Zwaantie let her go. Pieter nodded as well.

  The rest of the crowd was still prostrate on the ground. She wouldn’t be able to convince them to stand. No matter how much she pleaded. The Voice was stronger than her command.

  “As is custom, when a member of the royal family attends a wedding, you are allowed to ask for a royal gift. What do you wish from me?”

  Luna opened her mouth and closed it again. “It is possible…” She frowned. Then she squeezed Pieter’s hand. “Your choice.”

  He cocked his head for a moment. “We’d like our own home so we don’t have to share with my family.”

  “It is done. I’ll speak with the housing master when I return to the castle. Now, I must go and let you attend to your festivities. Congratulations.”

  Zwaantie was troubled. Luna was about to ask for something, but didn’t. Zwaantie wanted to know what that was and why she didn’t ask for it.

  Chapter 5

  The Boy

  Zwaantie was almost to the palace’s back door when she ran right into Phoenix. He bowed deeply, his black curls falling into his face. Zwaantie had the sudden desire to brush them away.

  “Forgive me, Your Highness. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  Zwaantie waited for him to come out of the bow and meet her gaze. His eyes were beautiful. “It’s okay. Where are you going in such a hurry?”