by S. K Munt
The duchess turned to stare down at the cards, and then looked up to me. ‘You got into the artefacts? How dare you touch such valuable things!’ she demanded, advancing on me. ‘And what nonsense have you been filling my son’s head with to make him so angry with me?’
I recoiled, much more afraid of her sudden quiet anger than I had been my Kohén’s startling fall into the room. ‘I…’
‘Don’t change the subject!’ Kohén interjected.
‘I had no say on that subject!’ The duchess snapped back tearfully. ‘And you know that!’
‘Well, don’t blame Larkin for the mess I made, the state I’m in or the fact that she was actually distracting me! If it wasn’t for her, I’d be back up in the roof by now and you wouldn’t have found me at all, so you ought to thank her for giving me pause!’ Kohén waved at me. ‘And my decision is made, by the way- I’d like her to stay.’
My heart dropped, and the duchess’s mouth mimicked that. She whirled on him. ‘Kohén-’
‘I said: she’s staying,’ Kohén said, and then winked at me again, offering up a little grin. ‘And she’s to be given a ball and a few books mother, not dolls and gowns, for she’s no more your long lost princess anymore than I am!’
I swallowed hard and repeatedly, trying to absorb what he was saying. I was staying in Arcadia, but I’d lost the hope of becoming a gardener, and I didn’t know how to feel about it all other than, well… lost.
The duchess went to her son, her expression desperate, and caught his filthy sleeve. ‘You are being so cruel to me!’ She tried to pull him toward her, getting smudges all over her beautiful dress and I stuffed my fist into my mouth and looked away, knowing that the guards and myself were witnessing what ought to have been a private moment. ‘Don’t you understand how much I need you today?’
But Kohén pushed her off and stomped out the door. His profile looked angry, but I saw the tears slipping down his cheeks. ‘I’m sure Kohl felt the same way as you handed him his suitcase instead of pulling him off the carriage bound for the docks!’ we heard, before he vanished from sight and the duchess dropped to her knees, weeping earnestly into her hands.
‘Go…!’ she croaked at the guards, and they immediately began to file out of the room. ‘And send someone up here to clean up this mess…’
The guards left and suddenly, it was just she and I in the room alone. I watched her, frozen as solid as a block of ice, and waited for her to speak or scream at me to leave, but she merely continued to sob in earnest, making me understand why outlandish shows of emotion were frowned upon within the kingdom of Arcadia- because I was feeling most uncomfortable! Some birthday this was! The duchess looked so desolate that I could have wept for her.
After two excruciating minutes, I cleared my throat and stepped forward to whisper: ‘I am very sorry that you had to give up your son, your highness.’ I waited for her head to snap up or for her to storm off, but she just continued to weep. ‘I didn’t know that twins were included in the third-born rule. I know two sets in my caste alone but… well… I suppose you had Prince Karol first so...?’
‘Kohl was born eleven minutes after Kohén…’ she whispered, wiping at her eyes. ‘So that makes him third and as you know, even the royal family is subjected to the population laws so…’
‘But he’s Nephilim, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, but he’s third-born still and according to my husband, the kingdom already has too many Nephilim about to justify breaking the rules for they are needed in places like Pacifica more than they are here now.’ She shot me a dirty look over her shoulder. ‘And don’t pretend that you care, Miss Whittaker. After what you just witnessed, I’m sure that you think I’m some monster.’ She looked away again and stared desolately at her reflection in the glass. ‘And perhaps I am.’
I thought that over, and then ventured forward one more step, seeing her reflection tense beside mine when I bent and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I thought you were, a little,’ I said softly, ‘for the way you sent my mother away so swiftly. But I understand your pain now, as I’m sure she did and for what it’s worth- Kohl is very lucky to have you weeping for loss of him so. My mother didn’t shed a single tear so…’ I bent over and kissed her dark coiled hair quickly before walking by her. ‘There’s the kiss she didn’t want either, your highness. I know it can’t compare to one from your son but…’
The duchess caught my hand. ‘Larkin?’
I looked back at her and into her watery blue eyes. ‘Yes, your majesty?’
She rose to her feet and dropped my hand. ‘Never touch me again. Kohén was right; you’re no princess, and you’re no substitute for my son- and none of this is fair. Not one little bit.’ And with that, she swept past me, sky-blue skirts rustling, and left me to clean up the suit of cards alone as I wept.
I picked up the queen of hearts first, frowning when I saw that it had faded until the red had become a brown that was practically black. I stuffed it to the bottom of the pile, knowing that wouldn’t change its value any more than the way I added worth to the three of hearts to the top, but Resonah had been right-I needed to do something, anything, to keep from forgetting that nothing was as equal- or as worthless- as it seemed.
*
I was tracked down by one of the guards only moments after the duchess had left me, and immediately walked across the length of the castle again and show to what I was told was the east wing- and my new home- which looked out at the back of the palace on one side and the commons on the other. As he walked he told me all of the rules and boundaries that I would have to keep in mind at all times.
I was permitted to roam those halls on the top and bottom south wing- that was half of the very front facade of the castle- but only the top level of the east, behind it, which was where I would be accommodated. On that level there were many guest rooms (was that what I was- a guest?) eleven from the doors I counted, and a few bathrooms. The guard, who was very kind and clearly trying to make up for the scene the duchess had made, explained that some of the rooms were dormers, like the one I’d be staying in, and some more lavish suites, reserved for when groups of people or the nobility from other kingdoms came to stay with us, respectively. Though I was still in a state of shock, I was pleased by how pretty and large my dormer was, and how it afforded a beautiful view of the Pacific ocean from the rear window, and the VIP suites were breathtakingly pretty- all stone and timber and gauzy white linens. From what I’d heard, the barracks and boarding houses allotted to Given kids were bare-bones and uncomfortable, often without any sort of electricity.
The lower rooms of the east wing were out of bounds for me as a Given girl. In it were the living quarters used by the castle staff, each with its own bathroom, kitchen and living space and no more than two bedrooms, so I wouldn’t have cause or permission to venture down there anyway. He said there were more private staff rooms in the right side of the castle too, but they were for the highest ranked staff and off-limits to the rest of the household.
Even the castle staff suffers rankings! Gosh, am I the only one to find that strange?
Coaxley took me to the south wing after that, which contained most of the castle’s common rooms on the bottom level: a ballroom, a library, a sitting room and a formal dining room. Those rooms were open to the guided tours of Eden, and in the courtyard was the reason why- the small stone cottage that Miguel Barachiel had first built on this cliff face for his love, Gabriella and their child Elijah the first of Arcadia. No one was allowed to go in there -ever- for it was cordoned off with red velvet ropes, but it sat in the middle of the courtyard and was surrounded by gardens which were accessible to all. It, and the spout of the tidal fall on top of the cliff at the rear of the palace, were popular places for artists to come and sketch the kingdom’s true treasures, and for the people who married to repeat their vows. We had no churches in Arcadia, so the cabin and the falls where God had argued with Miguel were considered two of the most sacred places on earth. I knew for a fact
that my mother and father had married at the rocks at the base of the tidal fall, for the photograph of them on the beach in front of it at low tide had hung in our front hall for my entire life. If I ever got married, which I supposed was unlikely- I’d do it there too.
The upper level of the south wing wasn’t open to the public, but it was to be where I, and most of the children living within the castle were to spend most of our time. There were three classrooms, a dance studio with a wall of mirrors, an artist’s studio, and a common living space full of toys and games. I saw many children look up at me when we hesitated by the doorway, and I caught my breath, amazed to see that there were at least fourteen others young enough to be in junior schooling. The palace was FULL of children, just like Kohén had said! But why was I suitable company for him and not them?
The second classroom was senior schooling and the third- private tuition. That was where I would be taking my classes, and after Coaxley had told me that, I began to feel excited… if I was going to be educated at an accelerated rate- fast enough that I’d soon be able to read BIG books- I’d kiss Kohén’s grubby little face in gratitude!
The front wing of the palace on the Wildwood’s side was called the west wing, and in it were the rooms I was allowed to use when permitted- a large swimming pool which started inside but slipped beneath a wall to end up in the courtyard behind it, a gymnasium, a training room and a sauna. A mural stretched across the length of the poolroom, interrupted only by tinted casement windows, and I had to crane my neck to follow the illustrations up to the ceiling.
‘This is the Armageddon story?’ I asked the guard, surprised. The theme of the story was clear and yet it had been painted so prettily that at first glance, no one would think that it depicted the fall of the human race.
‘It is,’ Coaxley said, coming to stand at my side and adjusting his rifle on his shoulder before he pointed to a handsome man with Mediterranean looks and dark brown eyes in the centre, radiating light into shadows. ‘That’s the king’s great, great, great, great grandfather, Miguel…’ he moved his finger to point to a collection of people above Miguel who were smiling and straining to touch his light. ‘And those are the twelve original human souls who survived the Armageddon at his side.’
I nodded and stepped back so that I wouldn’t have to tilt my head so much, recognising several of the painted faces looming above me. We have records of the twelve original survivors of the Armageddon and many illustrations done by one of them of the others, and their stories are taught to us in our first year of schooling. We do not assign people the title of ‘Saint’ in our world aside from the perished Angels, but the dozen salvaged by Miguel were all saintly in nature, even though they’d not loved God- and Miguel had saved them to prove to our creator that there was good here that he could not see.
There were pockets of these miraculous humans worldwide that had been saved by angels as well, and like in Arcadia, the Nephilim descendants of those angels continued to rule the kingdoms they started after God had spoken- so most of the rulers of the new world were known to be descendants of the Soul Mates who had refused to abandon the human race. The Gabriel family is the ruling monarch in New Rome, and the queen of Asiana is a descendant of the archangel Selafiel. The Republic of Rabia in the southern hemisphere was originally governed by a Nephilim family too, but that Angel’s descendants demonstrated little power, and so the entire continent is now run by a mortal man, who is their elected head of state. Regardless of having such an archaic and once problematic system of government in place, they are doing as well as any of us, but then again, their system of government still holds to the same values as ours, castes included where there were once ‘Parties’. That great southern land escaped Armageddon with little more than a few horrific monsoons in the first place anyway, which actually put out the bush fires they were first hit by and solved more problems than it caused. And because the country that had been there before had not been involved in the fourth world war either, they’d had less damage to undo than any of the other continents had. The lower half of Rabia was much colder now than it had originally been due to the climatic shifts, but the top half was relatively unchanged and the people there did not rely on the other Kingdoms much for anything.
In contrast, Asiana was almost completely submerged by monsoons, tsunamis and flooding and are now dependent on the other nations to buy their silk to survive, and the former continent of Europe which we now called New Rome suffered a similar submersion, but only after having been hit by the most bombs. No one believes that God flooded Europe to kill the people there but rather- to put the fires of the fourth world war out. After all, that war had been an Armageddon of man’s creation before God had played his hand, and by the look of the mural, the carnage had been far more terrifying than I had even imagined before divine intervention had intervened.
They are all separate kingdoms now, as are the ones here in Calliel, but every monarch answers to Elijah Barachiel. Like Miguel, the angels who stayed on earth to guard their humans perished as mortals, but a few others fell in the end, and the remainder of the original twelve took God’s offer to return to heaven. The shepherds believe that they watch after us now even though God said he would not allow them to, and though I believed them then, the entire concept of anyone ‘up there’ safeguarding me became a somewhat humorous subject after my thirteenth year. Especially ones who weren’t brave enough to stay in the first place!
But as the original twelve Souls were important to God, the original twelve founders of Arcadia are still important to us and so, the Arcadian rulers of the past have named festivals, feasts, towns and schools after them to preserve their memory, and most of our castes have sprung from their system of working together. To bear one of their surnames because you can trace your ancestry back to them is an honour indeed, but though my mother can trace her roots back to the twentieth century, and father back to 5 AA, there is nothing special about our blood. My mother’s great grandmother to the sixth power was a Californian native, and my father’s ancestry was South American, which is why people were always so surprised that I was so pale but my mother swore that the Californian women had once been notorious for being fair, so that was one link. Who knew though? Perhaps there had been an Albanian thrown into the mix somewhere along the line, and I was a belated product of that.
But there had been a girl in my first year class who had been a descendant of Amalie Sanchez, who was one of the first twelve inhabitants of Arcadia and I sought out her face now within the mural, smiling to see how exotic her Mexican looks had been in contrast to Miguel who looked a touch more Native American. Not only was she the founding mother of one of the smallest and hardest castes to break into- the Athletes- but also she was remembered every summer with a special day of sporting events that we called The Sanchez Cup, so her face was one of the ones that I knew the best.
During the apocalypse, Amalie Sanchez had run two hundred miles with an injured infant in her arms from the Mexican hurricanes and riots in the hope of getting her to safety. Though the child was dead by the time Miguel found them at the border, Amalie’s bravery and determination had inspired him to believe in the human heart again, and Amalie ran everywhere for always after, as though trying to outrun the ghosts of the fallen world.
‘Is the woman, Resonah- a descendant of one of the twelve?’ I asked the guard, thinking of how much Resonah resembled Amalie Sanchez. Allegra Sanchez was treated special by our teacher because of her ancestry, so being one of the twelve descendants would explain why Resonah was wearing so much gold, which was still a precious metal, and not one sported by many Blue Collars’ or even Nobles.
The guard began to walk forward again. ‘No miss,’ he said brusquely. ‘She is something else.’
‘Is the caste she belongs to a special one?’
The guard smiled sadly at me before he motioned for me to follow him out. ‘There are no special castes miss- only special people.’
I sighed and followed him,
feeling like a glutton after all the curiosity I’d been fed that day and the repeated mantra of: ‘We’re all equal, blah blah blah.’
Behind those rooms sat the hub for palace life- a kitchen the size of our entire common back in the village, which had a series of small doors leading through the walls and down into corridors beneath the palace. I watched the staff come and go carefully, and was pleased to see that they looked happy- merry even- to be working and living in the monstrosity that was Eden. They were all third-borns from another kingdom after all, so if they could be that pleased to work in a kitchen, surely I’d be able to make peace with living in the castle too, wouldn’t I? Some wore the silver bands to prove that they were joined, others the gold which represented marriage and some had bare knuckles but equally wide smiles, and I sighed in relief when I was led out of that room, and back to my dormer, where a cheerful and plump woman greeted me and told me that it was her job to wash me down and then dress me up.
There was hope for me yet, even if I wasn’t sure if I had a caste anymore. I just had to hold my breath until I was twenty-one, free and hopefully- special.
6.
I was greeted by a woman who introduced herself as Maryah when I got out of the bath, and she informed me quickly that she was to be my guardian for my duration of the time in the castle. I began to hope at once that she would be as quick to smile as the king’s pretty friend and the pleasant maid, Lindy, and much quicker to dole out hugs than my mother had been. Maryah wore no gold, but she was lovely to look at and moved with as much grace as Resonah had.
‘You will undertake classes with me every day as part of your training,’ Maryah said by the foot of the bunk that was to be mine and measured me with a tape for clothes. ‘And we’ll have a wardrobe ready for you by tomorrow evening, I hope, if Lindy can sew fast enough. Until then, you may wear this dress…’ she opened the wardrobe at the foot of my bed and indicated to a frilly white housedress with a blinding white smock dangling beside it. Silk of course, with a cotton smock. In our king’s desire to help the kingdom in Asiana and due to a shortage of different fabrics, most people, even the labourers, wore silk. ‘That is the dress that you are to wear to your classes except for dance, and it will do for now. There are also pyjamas in those drawers, and clean underwear.’ She frowned at me. ‘You’re a pale little thing so white is never going to be your colour, but you’ll look proper, at least.’