by Jenna Moreci
“She was feeling curious. Who am I to deny her self-exploration?” Delphi smirked. “Aren’t You supposed to be with Cosima?”
Sighing, Leila flopped down onto the bed. “She was occupied. Had that new guard, Asher, all good and naked.”
“You’re serious? The little cunt.”
“Delphi…”
“I mean it. She’s always been a bit uppish, but I swear she gets more and more cunty with age.”
“She can bed whom she pleases.”
Delphi rolled her eyes. “Please, You must see the intention. There are plenty of guards in this fortress, but she chose Asher, the exact man who made Your bits tingle. She did it to spite You.”
“Well, it didn’t work. I hadn’t the slightest interest in him. No tingle whatsoever.”
“Your saving face only does her favors.”
“She’s family.”
“By title,” Delphi said. “When was the last time she actually behaved as family?”
Leila’s stomach churned. She sat upright, idly playing with the ends of Her hair.
“Well, we don’t need her anyhow.” Delphi plastered on a smile. “Do You want to discuss Your birthday?” When Leila didn’t answer, Delphi tensed. “Your father then.”
“He moves against me. Through the tournament.”
“It’s confirmed?”
Leila scowled. “Three men of an unsavory disposition were hired. I’m assuming he’s placing them in the tournament. They’ll likely compete for Me.”
“And then?”
“And then…I die.”
A red fog filled the space between them, bleeding from Delphi’s flesh. Anger. At least she doesn’t pity Me.
“Have You given any additional thought to killing Your father?”
Leila sighed. “Delphi, we can’t.”
“I know, I’m just rather fond of the idea.”
“His network reaches far past what we know. If we cut off the head of the beast, another will grow in its place to strike Me down. Until we uncover all his allies, he lives.”
“Well then, onto more pressing matters,” Delphi said. “These three men—You think they’re coming to do the deed? Stab stab, and You’re dead?
“I can’t think of any other explanation.”
“So we watch them. Keep them close.” She pointed her scroll Leila’s way. “You’re positioning Rom to be the Proctor, yes?”
“Already in the works.”
“Good. Then we’ll have eyes and ears on the inside.”
“It’s not enough. I need someone I can trust implicitly.”
“Then I’ll join him. Think of a reason to mingle amongst the men. Be Your spy.” Delphi’s eyes brightened. “What if I act as a servant? Get the men pretty for You. Women always babble when they’re being made beautiful. I’m sure men are the same.”
Leila didn’t answer, and Delphi furrowed her brow. “Do You not want me down there? In the labyrinth?”
“No, it’s not that…” Leila’s voice trailed off, Her mind turning over Her sister’s words—and words She Herself hadn’t spoken, still gestating in Her thoughts. Romulus wasn’t enough. Delphi wasn’t enough.
I need to be in the labyrinth.
The door crept open, and a man poked his head inside. “Your Holiness?”
Leila flagged him over, and he bowed before walking in. Wavy black hair spilled down to his shoulders, his golden-brown skin splashed with freckles across his arms, his face, even his plump lips. He was clearly of Leila’s age, yet boyish—his frame was tall and slender, his hands fidgety, and his large, chestnut eyes gaped at Her in reverence.
She frowned. “Can I help you?”
He shook himself, bowing again. “Apologies for the intrusion.”
“I’m sorry, but…who are you?”
“Hylas. Page to the Sovereign.” He bowed for a third time. “His former went missing inexplicably, so I’m told.”
“Is that so? I hadn’t any idea.”
“Your Holiness, I hate to bother, but we’ve yet to receive Your preferences for the pool.” Hylas rambled words that sounded rehearsed. “Tomorrow, the men of Thessen and beyond will line up for miles for the chance to compete in Your tournament. The pool will determine who among them is worthy. We’re required to procure a variety of men, but some will be catered to Your tastes. So…” he unrolled a scroll, preparing to write, “…Your preferences?”
“I have no preferences.”
He faltered. “But…this is Your future husband. Surely You have preferences.”
“I’m sure the girls will sort it out on their own.”
Hylas shifted from foot to foot. “Apologies, but I can’t leave without Your answer.”
Leila sighed. “All right then. I want a robust man with a body like marble, an ass tight enough to shatter a diamond, and a cock the length of a cucumber. A pillar. No, a tower.” She nodded at his scroll. “Are you getting this?”
Hylas’s face flushed. Clearing his throat, he scribbled across his parchment. “A…tower?”
“Of course. How could I possibly settle for less? Will that be all?”
With a quick bow, Hylas dashed for the door, throwing it shut behind him.
Delphi frowned. “He thinks You’re serious.”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be choosing a man anyway. Let them waste away searching for the cucumber cock.” Leila wrinkled Her nose. “Is that big for a cock? Cucumber length? Oh, why am I even asking you…”
“Brontes will see these requests.”
“Oh good, I hope to see his face when he does.”
Leila chuckled, while Delphi gazed at the spot where Hylas once stood. “I’ll track him down. Tell him to find some nice men for You. Give him Your real preferences.”
“Why would you do that?”
“What about creative types? Intellectuals? I’ll tell him to look out for those.”
“So they can die in the tournament? That’s just cruel.”
Delphi kept quiet, a single eyebrow raised.
“Why are you looking at Me like that?” Leila said.
“You’re not at all curious about the tournament? About these men?”
“You mean the ones coming to kill Me?”
“I mean the ones coming to marry You,” Delphi said. “Or at least try to.”
Leila laughed. “Oh, the idiots. No, not particularly.”
“Leila—”
“They compete for a woman they’ve never met simply because She’s The Savior.” She played with the folds of Her dress. “It’s foolish. Offensive, really. They come because they marvel at My title, not…Me.”
“They’ll marvel at You once they meet You. You are quite marvelous, after all.”
“Have you lost sight of things? Brontes moves against Me.”
“I know that.”
“He killed our mothers.”
“And there’s nothing I want more than for him to rot. Except to see You happy.” Delphi scooted closer, taking Her hand. “You’re the last of my family, and I cannot watch You waste away in misery forever.”
“And you think a cock would rectify all things.”
“Not a cock. Just a companion.”
Leila smiled. “I have you.”
“A companion with a cock.”
Groaning, Leila rolled Her eyes. “Delphi—”
“One for You to play with.”
“God…”
“On Your fifteenth birthday, I found You crying in Your chamber. You said You feared You’d be a child forever. That You longed to kiss a boy, yet there was no one for You to kiss. And when a boy did come this way, he wasn’t permitted to kiss You, or court You, or see You as anything other than untouchable.” Delphi gave Leila’s hand a squeeze. “Cosima and I were already having our fun, and You were certain You’d be left behind. So I stayed up all night assuring You Your time would come. And then I explained to You the magic of two fingers strategically placed—”
“I was there, Delphi. I remember
.”
“You have twenty men coming to the palace for the sole purpose of winning Your affection. Surely it’s crossed Your mind that this is an opportunity to partake in the one pleasure You’ve been denied Your entire life.”
Leila glowered. “Seventeen men. You forget, three are coming to kill Me.” She threw Her arms into the air. “But to hell with My assassination, let’s put all our attention into finding that cock for Me to play with.”
“Leila—”
“There are more important things.”
“Of course,” Delphi said. “But if You can heal the realm and slit the throat of a traitor in the same afternoon, why can’t You reclaim Your power and kiss a man in the same tournament?”
The chamber door flew open, and a bevy of servant girls exploded into the room. “Happy birthday!”
Four grinning faces surrounded Leila, yanking Her from the bed.
“You’re twenty!”
“You’re positively glowing!”
“She’s always glowing.”
“Shut up, Nyx.”
The servants dragged Her from Delphi’s chamber, pulling Her down the corridor, the stairs, then into a periwinkle room lined in pillars, its pearlescent floor punctuated by a pool. The royal bathhouse. There was another like it for the rest of the palace to use, but this one was for Leila alone. She stood at the pool’s edge as the girls peeled off Her dress, then tiptoed into the water, taking a seat on the bench.
Light beamed through the pool in ripples. Her submerged skin always set the water aglow, but the servants didn’t react, accustomed to Her power to the point of apathy. She liked that about them—that Nyx, Hemera, Damaris, and Faun regarded Her as slightly-less-than-holy.
Faun hovered beside the pool, juggling a handful of colorful vials. “What’ll it be today? Lavender? Vanilla?”
Hemera swatted her arm. “Do vanilla, it matches Her skin!”
“It’s Her choice, dummy,” Nyx scoffed.
“Vanilla is wonderful, thank you,” Leila said.
The girls prepped Her bath, a flurry of bustling bodies in flowing white dresses. Faun was the eldest at twenty-one years with deep olive skin, long brown hair, and freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, though her most distinct feature were the black tattoos swirling down her arms all the way to her fingers. Damaris was plump with dark red locks, the soft pink of her skin a direct contrast to her cornflower eyes. And Nyx and Hemera were the youngest, identical twins just eighteen years old with the same golden skin, sharp features, and upturned, chestnut eyes. The only dissonance between them was their ebony hair; Hemera’s was long with bangs, while Nyx’s locks were short, falling over her ears.
Hemera rang out a hand rag. “I swear, I’ve been waiting for tonight for months. Years, even.”
“Please, no one cares about tonight.”
“Nyx, you bitch!” Hemera said. “It’s Her birthday.”
“Yes, and in two days the tournament begins. That’s what everyone’s been waiting for. You know I’m right.”
Leila swallowed a groan. Just one moment without mention of the tournament, that’s all I ask.
“You won’t be seeing us tomorrow.” Damaris lathered up Leila’s leg. “Mousumi has us working the pool, same as all the other girls.”
Leila frowned. “Apologies. That sounds dreadful.”
“Oh, not at all,” Damaris said. “I’m actually quite excited.”
“Is that right?” Faun smirked. “Our untouched flower, eager to feast her eyes on Thessen’s finest, unattached and as naked as the day they were born.”
“Naked?” Damaris glanced between the girls. “No one said they were going to be naked.”
“It’ll be grand,” Hemera said. “Hundreds of handsome men in the buff.”
“And ugly men. And fat men. And hairy men,” Nyx muttered.
“What about You, Leila?” Hemera looked up from her work and smiled. “Are You excited? You must be.”
Vulgarities filled Leila’s mouth, so She opted not to answer.
“Leila, Your hair is so beautiful.” Hemera sighed, brushing Her long locks. “The envy of us all, I swear it.”
“Pretty soon You’ll have Your pick of men to brush Your hair,” Faun said. “Play with Your hair… Pull Your hair.”
“Faun!” Hemera squealed.
“You all were thinking it. I’m just saying it.”
“Did You submit Your preferences?” Damaris took a seat behind Leila, massaging Her shoulders. “I’m just dying to know what The Savior desires.”
“She asked for a massive cock!” Nyx said. “Hylas showed me! I saw it!”
Damaris gasped. “He showed you?”
“Well, I made him.”
“A large cock?” Hemera giggled into her hands. “Leila, I never would’ve guessed You were such a minx!”
“She’s not a minx. She’s playing games.” Scowling, Faun dropped her rag. “Leila, why didn’t You submit Your true preferences?”
“I have no preferences,” She said.
“You still fight the tournament? Even with it just days away?”
“Why would You fight the tournament?” Hemera scoffed. “I would die to have one of my own.”
“Can you imagine?” Damaris kneaded Leila’s back. “Twenty gorgeous men throwing themselves at you. It’s like a dream.”
“It’s not My dream,” Leila muttered.
“Well then, if You find the prospect so repugnant, why don’t You let one of us take Your place, hm?” Faun chuckled. “We’ll slip on Your glowing skin, wear Your flaming eyes, and play Savior for thirty days.” She cast Leila a critical look. “Women of sound mind would kill for such a burden, You know.”
“Your Holiness.”
Leila jumped, sending a wave splashing onto the tiles. The servant keeper appeared at the pool’s edge, about thirty years old with tawny skin, a statuesque figure, and thick, black curls tied at her nape. Her large, dark eyes scanned the unrolled scroll in her hands, her presence alone enough to render the girls silent.
“A word while You’re freshened up?”
Leila nodded. “Of course, Mousumi.”
Mousumi didn’t bother looking Her way, still reading her parchment. “The schedule for Your birthday feast has been finalized. We require Your approval. After Your bath, You’re to meet with Cecily for Your fitting. It seems she’s chosen a red dress—a royal color for a royal occasion. Is this acceptable?”
“Yes, that sounds lovely.”
She scribbled along her scroll. “Once all is prepared, Your court will be ushered into the atrium, followed by the Sovereign and then Yourself.”
“Bring the Sovereign in first,” Leila said. “Then the court. Then Me.”
Mousumi’s eyes lifted from the parchment. “Your father will see that as an affront. That the court holds title over him.”
“Bring him in first.”
Mousumi went back to scribbling, her nostrils flared. “The feast will be served, then Your gifts will be presented. The Sovereign’s page will note Your gratitude and deliver Your thanks to the proper patrons.”
“The page?” Damaris said. “Surely that’s the scribe’s job.”
“The scribe retired his post,” Mousumi muttered.
“Another?” Damaris glanced between the girls. “I swear, everyone’s leaving.”
“All friends of the Sovereign too.” Nyx raised her eyebrows. “Bet you he’s picking them off.”
“Quiet. That’s the Sovereign you speak of.” Hemera splashed her sister. “Father of Her Holiness.”
“I take no offense,” Leila said.
Mousumi cleared her throat. “Does the schedule suit You, Your Holiness?”
“It’s fine.” Leila smiled. “Thank you.”
“Right.” Bowing, Mousumi rolled her scroll and headed off.
Hemera exhaled. “Thank God she’s gone. I swear, she’s so stiff.”
Nyx shoved her arm. “Watch your words, she’s our keeper.”
�
��I think she’s all right,” Damaris said.
Hemera scoffed. “Don’t lie, she’s as frigid as a Kovahrian winter.”
Leila flashed them a frown. “Be kind, ladies.”
“Don’t pretend You haven’t noticed.” Faun laughed. “She’s not even nice to You.”
Their chatter faded as Leila’s thoughts churned. The tournament was fast approaching, and She still hadn’t a proper plan. But amid Her nagging worries were the words of Her servants, gently prodding at Her mind.
Let one of us take Your place.
The girls finished their work, and Leila soon found Herself surrounded by the dusty rose walls of Her dressing room. The rays of the setting sun filtered through the window, bouncing off crystal and gold ornaments. Chairs lined with pink silk cushions littered the space, along with tables covered in perfume and jewelry.
“You seem sad. Is something troubling You?”
The woman spoke in soothing tones, but her gaze didn’t leave her stitching. Cecily was the palace fitter, a servant of station, and every dress Leila wore passed through her hands first. She was older than most of the others at thirty-seven years, with fluffy brown curls, honey-hazel eyes, and sandy skin—a warm look to match her presence, though everything about this day felt cold.
“I’m just thinking,” Leila said.
“It’s the tournament, isn’t it?” Cecily stitched the seam along Leila’s hip. “You don’t like it.”
Leila’s gaze shot toward her, and Cecily offered a smile. “Everyone knows.” Pocketing her thread, she pulled out a fragrant vial. “Is it the lack of control? The fact that Your husband is chosen through challenges as opposed to Your will?” She pressed her perfumed fingertips to Leila’s wrists. “Or is it something else?”
“It’s many things.”
“I understand. Love is scary enough without danger thrown into the mix. Whose idea was that, anyhow? It’s a bit silly, I think.”
Cecily shuffled off to one of the tables, looping several strands of jewelry around her wrist. She returned to Leila’s side, stopping short at the sight of Her frown. “Oh, child, I know it’s overwhelming, but try to see the good in this. You are to be presented with the finest men in Thessen.” She draped a string of jewels across Leila’s neck. “I have faith this tournament is exactly what You need.”