Tied to the Crown

by Neha Yazmin

  Bright light triggered these bouts of pain in Malin’s head, and so the ‘dry days’ were the worst, when the weather was sunny and hot; the rainy days were a welcome reprieve. She was probably the only person in Adgar that longed for the grey clouds and rainstorms to roar overhead, hoped for them to dominate more than just half the week.

  Whenever the ache shattered through her skull, Malin had no choice but to shut herself away in her bedchamber, the curtains shut to block out the light, the door locked to keep out anyone that might accidentally enter her room and disturb the peace and quiet she needed.

  Well, that was the story.

  The truth was that, after bolting her bedroom door, she used its secret passage to sneak out of the Palace. She rode out to the Outskirts to learn as much as she could about the people that had gone missing from the Island over the years.

  Dressing in men’s tunics and pants, and hiding her fair hair under a cap, Malin disguised herself as a young male as she departed for the Outskirts now. She tried her best to stick to the shadows as she traveled, to keep her skin from tanning too much. People in the Palace would wonder where she was getting all that sun.

  These days, she felt comfortable making her voice as deep as she could, walking with her chest puffed out and her chin in the air. No one had questioned or doubted her. Perhaps because she wore her hair loose and dressed particularly girly when she wasn’t pretending to be a boy?

  The façade was necessary for two main reasons: Secrecy and privacy. She didn’t want anyone to know she was looking into the mystery surrounding Adgar’s missing people, and she had to investigate it alone. No guards, no aides, no one around her to give the impression that she was anyone but the curious son of a lowly nobleman. There was no way that she, as Princess Malin, would be allowed to visit the Outskirts so frequently, without taking at least one guard with her, without giving a good reason for her excursions.

  Sure, she could have pretended to be some female maid, but not have anything in common with a Princess, including sex, made for a better disguise.

  Playing the role of Shahan—her male alter-ego—meant that, once she made it out of the castle, it was easy to retrieve a horse from the stables and head south without anyone batting an eyelid. Sadly, she couldn’t take her beloved Steeva with her; the stable boys would never let anyone other than Princess Malin ride Steeva.

  The people of the Outskirts were keen to answer Shahan’s questions, grateful that someone from the Queen’s Court was taking an interest in one of their own. For a while, it had appeared as though their new Queen had deemed it unimportant to continue looking into the people that had vanished. Well, Leesha had deemed it unworthy of her time and resources, but the residents of the Outskirts needn’t now that.

  However, as much as they wanted to help Shahan in finding out what had happened to their friend, neighbour, or relative, no one had so far been able to tell him anything that alluded to what could have happened to the missing persons. Shahan had gathered a great deal of information about the individuals that had left in the night, never to return. There didn’t seem to be anything linking them, apart from their age: All grown adults. But no one seemed to know what led them to leave their home after curfew.

  Astonishingly, the families of these people all said one thing: They only realised the next day that their husband, wife, father, mother, brother, sister, or child was gone.

  “I slept so deeply,” said the wife of a man that had vanished last year, “that I didn’t hear the door open.”

  “Are you normally a deep sleeper?” Shahan had asked the tall woman on her previous trip to the Outskirts.

  “I sleep well, but I would have heard the door,” the woman insisted. “I didn’t hear anything that sounded like he was leaving the house. The music was too loud.”

  “Music?” Malin had forgotten to use the deep voice of Shahan as she spoke. Luckily, the woman hadn’t noticed.

  “The music in my dream,” she replied. “I dreamt of music and singing. It was beautiful. I dreamt all night.”

  That was the first mention of music, the first time anyone had mentioned what they’d dreamed of on the night that their loved ones vanished. Today, Malin was going to revisit the Adgaris she’d questioned to ask if they’d also dreamed of music and singing. Their responses might not give any indication as to what had happened, but it was too strange to not investigate further.

  She wished her father hadn’t left last week to vacation in Porjaya with the Old Queen and the boy Princes. She could have confided in him. He had gone to enjoy his newfound freedom in the Island that was to the southwest of Adgar, knowing that his youngest daughter might need his wisdom. Did he not care about her investigation or was he confident that she’d be able to handle it herself?

  If it was the latter, Malin hoped her father’s faith in her wasn’t misplaced.

  The morning after Rozlene vanished, another search party set out to look for her. Wyett was amongst them. He had longed to tell his father over their rushed breakfast that the Adgari guard hadn’t returned to the Palace but everyone was preoccupied with Rozlene’s disappearance. It would have been a little insensitive to gloat about being right with regards the warrior princess. Besides, the King was worried about Rozlene; he didn’t need to be told that his newest employee was also unaccounted for.

  Wyett sighed when he saw his brother trot up to him on his horse as he mounted his own in the Palace courtyard. Of course, Seth wanted to help search for Rozlene. He hadn’t come along yesterday, but he must have decided that he couldn’t sit it out today. He should sit it out. No one would judge him for it, especially not Erisa or Rozlene. Mother and daughter were very fond of Seth, coddling him all the time.

  Erisa probably didn’t know that Seth was joining the search party, else she would have tricked him into staying with her at the castle. “Will you stay with me, Seth?” she would have pleaded in her softest voice. “Keep me company? Keep my mind off things?”

  Unfortunately, Wyett couldn’t insist that his brother need not come along. He avoided saying anything that might make Seth feel inferior, inadequate, or incapable. Because Seth wasn’t any of those things. He just didn’t have the strength to be all the incredible things he was.

  “What do you think happened to her?” Seth asked in greeting.

  His skin was a shade too pale for riding, searching, but Wyett couldn’t say as much. He would just have to watch him, stay close to him. It would deter him from properly looking for Rozlene, but Seth was his priority now. Plenty of guards and Courtiers were looking for Rozlene; Wyett could back out.

  “It doesn’t make sense, what Erisa said.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Wyett agreed.

  They took off through the gates, the three different groups dispersing as planned during the quick meeting they’d had last night.

  “Which group are you joining?” Wyett asked his brother.

  He didn’t want to assume anything or request that Seth stick with him. Seth wouldn’t like it either way. He just hoped that his little brother would follow him, as he always had.

  “Oh, I’m not joining the search.”

  Wyett swallowed his sigh of relief. Seth was just going for a little ride around the grounds, something he liked to do every now and then. His bodyguards would take care of him.

  “Oh, alright. Enjoy your ride. I’ll see you at dinner.” Wyett wished he hadn’t sounded so cheerful.

  “I’m not going for a ride, either,” Seth informed him.

  Wyett’s breath caught in his throat. “Where are you off to, then?”

  “I’m going to the tailor’s shop where Rozlene disappeared. I don’t think anyone has actually talked to the tailor or had a look around the shop. I thought I’d investigate.”

  Making himself look as eager as possible, Wyett said, “Seth! What a clever thing you are. Mind if I come along and aid your investigation?”

  His little brother played along. “Why, yes! You can assist me. But don’t ge
t in my way.”

  Wyett laughed, and together, they set off towards the market.

  A few minutes into their journey, Seth turned to Wyett and asked, “Where do you reckon Aaryana is?”

  Wyett started. Of course, Seth had heard about her disappearance. “I really couldn’t care less. Good riddance, I say.”

  “What do you have against her, anyway?” When Wyett didn’t respond, Seth added, “You’ve hated her from the moment you laid eyes on her. She’d yet to do anything to you then.”

  What he meant by that last part was: she hadn’t almost beaten you in a duel then.

  Indignant, Wyett snapped, “Why are you so fond of her?”

  Seth chuckled and shook his head. The fact that his brother didn’t deny being fond of the Adgari made Wyett angrier. The girl didn’t deserve Seth’s affections. She wouldn’t reciprocate it. She’s not capable.

  “She’s older than you. You can’t…” He shook his head. What was he saying? He shouldn’t speak to his little brother like this.

  To his immense relief, Seth laughed louder. “I have no interest in her like that, nor she me,” his brother assured him. “I think she already likes someone else…”

  So, she’d fooled Seth into thinking that she cared for Wyett? The Crown Prince shook his head, annoyed. “For someone so smart, you can be too gullible sometimes.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She has no feelings for me whatsoever—”

  “Of course, she doesn’t,” his brother cut him off confidently. “She’s only just met you.”

  He did see through her, then? In that case, what was Seth getting at?

  “She has someone back in Adgar.”

  “She has?” Wyett raised an eyebrow, surprised.

  His brother seemed to have built up quite a friendship with the girl, if he knew something so personal about her. Had he not warned her to stay away from Seth? Wyett gritted his teeth.

  “I’m sure of it,” Seth murmured. “There’s something about her that makes me think she gave her heart away a long time ago.”

  Oh, so Seth was just guessing. He was rather insightful in that regard. Wyett was better at reading intentions and motives rather than emotions.

  “It’s really sad, don’t you think, to be forced to leave your true love behind forever?”

  The girl hadn’t seemed sad at all to Wyett—or lovesick. She really had Seth wrapped around her little finger, pulling on his sympathy.

  “And to leave your entire family… She’s feeling lonely. Erisa told me.”

  “Erisa?” Wyett asked, his voice rising with his temper. “What does—how does Erisa know?”

  “I believe the two of them had breakfast together on Friday…” Seth bit his lower lip, sheepish. He looked guilty on Erisa’s behalf.

  “Why would Erisa want to…?”

  “Rozlene, I think, wants her to make new friends. Erisa’s become quite lonely also.”

  In other words, Erisa was lonely because she’d lost her childhood friends. Seth didn’t need to say it, but it was clear that he was admonishing Wyett for letting a wedge come in between himself and Erisa.

  “She still has you,” Wyett pointed out, feeling chastised.

  “It’s not the same. I’m like a little brother to her,” Seth reminded him. “She still treats me like I’m a little baby. We’re not friends, like you lot were growing up.”

  True. But there was no changing back now.

  “In that case,” Wyett breathed, “I’d say Erisa does need to make new friends.” Just not her, not the Adgari that was sinking her nails into everyone that Wyett cared about.

  Not her.

  “How long will it take?” Aaryana asked the little girl that had told her about eternal fire last night. Alsea was her name—a normal human one. It was the name of a rare orange flower that grew in the mountains. Well, rare in Adgar. In the cooler climate of Roshdan, alsea seemed to grow everywhere. Aaryana had seen plenty of them during her tour.

  Alsea said, “If you stay on the trail, half a day.”

  Half a day! Half a day to clear the dense forest on foot, so dense that horses had to be left behind before wading into the darkness of the jungle. She and Alsea had shivered as they made their way down to the hidden trail in the foothills, feeling colder and colder as they moved further and further away from the fires up in the mountains. At least the air was more breathable here.

  Hopefully, her warhorse was still tied up at the forest’s edge, where the Nidiyans had left him when they’d carried her to their home. Aaryana wondered who had taken her weight the entire time.

  “Well, thank you, Alsea,” Aaryana said, “for bringing me here.”

  The girl nodded.

  “I don’t suppose I’m going to get my weapons belt back?”

  “Sorry.”

  Aaryana sighed. She would have to claim that she’d been robbed. At least she hadn’t been carrying Micah’s beautiful blade. Losing that would have hurt.

  Would the Head of the Royal Guards punish her severely for her absence last night? Would they believe that she’d gotten lost and mugged along the way? Was it irrelevant because Wyett would use this as the means to throw her out of the castle?

  “I can come with you a little ways, if you like?” Alsea mumbled.

  The expression on the girl’s face suggested that she was offering to do Aaryana a favour. As though Aaryana was too scared to set off into the forest alone. Her anxiety over the reception she’d receive at the Palace must have been evident on her face. I must be more afraid of being barred from the castle than I thought.

  “That won’t be necessary, Alsea, but thank you for the offer.” She smiled at the girl and wrapped the fur cloak, courtesy of the Nidiyans, tighter around her shoulders. “Before you go, I would appreciate it if you could tell me a little about your… fire angel. I’ve never heard of him before.”

  Alsea’s eyes widened. “You’ve never heard of the fire angel?”

  Aaryana shook her head. Clearly, the fire angel was another revered legend amongst the Roshdani people. Adgaris had forgotten religion and gods and angels long before she was born. Roshdan had not.

  “So, who was he?”

  “Oh, I can’t tell you the whole story now, there’s not enough time. Everyone is expecting me back soon.”

  And yet, the girl had offered to enter the jungle with her. Aaryana wished she had some small token to give Alsea. The girl was sweet.

  “Maybe when you come back…?”

  “Maybe. But tell me this: The flame-wings on the King’s Throne, that’s the symbol of the fire angel, isn’t it?”

  Alsea bit her lip. “I’ve never seen the Throne, but I’ve heard how strange it is.”

  “And?”

  “Yes, that’s the symbol for the fire angel. I’ll tell you everything if you come back.”

  Aaryana smiled and petted the girl’s hair. “Why do you want me to come back?”

  “Because you’re Aaryana. Of utmost strength.”

  “I’m sure I’m not the only Aaryana among—in the world.” She had almost said, “amongst our people”. Was there a Aaryana living in the Nidiyan Mountains right now?

  Alsea seemed to know what Aaryana had refrained from saying, what she was pondering. “The name Aaryana isn’t given to just anybody, you know,” the girl said. “You’re special.”

  That’s why I named you Aaryana.

  This didn’t help in finding Rozlene, but at least it answered the question of how she’d disappeared from the tiny cubicle in the tailor’s shop. Really, the tailor should have known about the secret door at the rear of the changing room! It opened to the narrow alley behind the shop; Rozlene had exited the building through this door. Or taken through it.

  The tailor swore to Wyett and Seth that he knew nothing about this hidden exit. He insisted that he would have blocked the door if he’d known. “It’s a way for the less reputable of my customers to smuggle away my stock!”

  Indeed, one coul
d enter the cubicle with a number of dresses or shirts to try on for size and simply walk out with everything through the opposite end without detection. No business would knowingly keep such a door useable.

  Which begged the question, asked by Seth, of, “Why would your father, or his father before him, have a secret door built into the property?”

  “They wouldn’t,” replied the tailor. Then the man hesitated.

  “Tell us what you know,” Wyett pressed.

  “This business, this building,” said the man, “has been in my family for generations, as you know.”

  Seth and Wyett nodded.

  “Last year, I decided to redecorate it, for the first time since I took over.”

  Wyett remembered. Quin had complained about the shop being closed for so long.

  “I wonder if… if the door was put in then—”

  “It wasn’t,” Seth insisted, his tone surprisingly hard. “The door seems to be part of the original foundation. If your builders were cutting a door into these premises, you would have noticed during your regular inspections of the work.”

  The man nodded in agreement.

  But Wyett had already realised what had happened. He didn’t reveal it just yet, though. “How well do you keep your accounts?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

  “Very well, Your Highness.”

  “So, if anyone had used the secret door to steal from you, your books would show it.”

  “Yes, Your Highness. And there has been nothing suspicious.”

  “I think I know what happened.”

  “What, brother?” Seth asked.

  “I think the secret door has always been there,” he told them. “This building may have been used for something else when it was first built. Or served two different purposes. I can’t be sure without checking the documentations about its history.” He shrugged. “But I’m certain that the door was discovered during the refurbishment works last year. And the information was shared with whoever kidnapped Rozlene.”