by L B Keen
Her mother didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Has he left?”
Bird didn’t answer her right away. Instead, she turned her gaze to the statue. “I wonder how she could have been so stubborn? I’ve always wondered about love, and how it makes fools of us all… yet, it seems out of all those who get to taste this foolishness, I am cursed to remain steady.”
“Kahlia…?”
“I could say I’ve tasted it.” Her brow creased in thought. “I knew a man; he desired the same thing as I. Escape, freedom, but his desire wasn’t like mine as his freedom and escape were warped due to his desire of women, who he believed held these things for him.”
She reached out, taking an unlit incense and placing the tip in the fire. “I cannot say I loved him, but that I felt the first stirrings of the heart for someone and connection.”
As the incense burned, she smiled sadly. “But even that was an illusion that was taken and used against me.”
She pulled the incense out and sat it on the silver tray. She faced her mother, finally answering her question, her gaze dark and unreadable. “Yes, he is gone, but do you know what I’ve learned? That I am ill-suited for love. That with all its trappings and desires, love and I do not suit at all. It seems whenever I feel such a thing, it is an illusion, a falsehood.”
Osis had felt relief at her daughter’s words, but she had slowly lost the feeling with the following sentence. Had her hate for vampires and the entirety of their lot done this? Returning her daughter’s memories had been her attempt to protect her, not to cause more damage. Yet, the dark gaze that held only a spark of purple said it all.
Bird continued, unaware of her mother’s thoughts. “I do desire children. I also wish to have a happy family.” She smiled at her imagination, her gaze cast down. “But I will no longer seek love or its trappings.”
She turned her smile to her mother. “Since I am now to pick a suitor, I wonder which one would be the ideal choice?”
Osis, seeking to do something, anything to stop the downward spiral her daughter was taking, spoke. “Kahlia, I—”
“It’s fine,” Bird said, cutting her off. She shook her head. “I am mad at you, but I’ve decided I will no longer linger over it. He is gone, and I am here now, and I have a life I must lead here.” She took her mother’s hand in her own. “I want you to help me, will you not?”
Osis stared into her daughter’s hopeful gaze. Her daughter sought no happiness. Osis knew this at her core. She knew her daughter merely wished to move on and probably felt completely powerless to control her future. At least in her choosing to give in, she had some control in her fate.
She hadn’t sought this. She didn’t wish for her daughter to become a shell of herself. Her daughters giving in to their of her destiny wasn’t what she wished, but she had no choice but to take advantage of it. The smell of sweetness had been rising from her daughter over the last three months and had grown stronger. She glanced down at Bird’s belly. How long could she have Fi hide it?
How long could she continue to use her magic to deceive her daughter’s senses to the thing that had taken root there? She met her daughter’s gaze once more. If she didn’t get Bird married soon, everything would come to light and her daughter would have no choice but to tie herself to the people Osis despised. The people who’d ripped her daughter from her arms and who’d violated her because they wanted a “taste of the foreign bitch.”
A hundred things warred in Osis’ mind. She wouldn’t allow her child in the hands of such people, she couldn’t, and as soon as she could figure out a way to untie the parasite in her daughter’s stomach, she would. Her best bet at saving her daughter would be to quickly remove the thing from her daughter’s womb. She’d already gained the king’s approval, and she only needed the correct timing, though she’d told him it’d been rape that had given her daughter a child.
Her daughter could go on to have more children with the right sort of man and not a monster.
So, with that in mind, Osis smiled and leaned forward, stroking her daughter’s cheek. “I shall do all in my power to find you the right suitor, my love.”
Talon was drunk.
He had left the palace and gone immediately to the nearest brothel, not to slake his lust, but to drown his sorrows. He believed himself allowed a moment to wallow in despair, or was it simply the result of his own foolishness? Yes, he’d been a fool. How could he have believed, or dared to dream, even for a moment, that she would regain her memories and welcome him with open arms?
He smirked, staring into his tankard. The color of the ale reminded him oddly of her. Her eyes mostly. He’d known his Bird would stare at him in such a way and find him wanting. After all, she’d been in love with his brother.
He winced, not caring when a drunk stumbled into his table and passed out at his feet. He took another swig of his drink. His ship would be leaving soon, but he couldn’t get himself to care. Glancing over at the high candle that the Katari used to tell time, he guessed he’d have a good two hours to return and prepare for his voyage back home. He smirked. Wouldn’t his father, the king, be shocked at what he would be bringing with him as a gift.
The thought of his father caused Talon to swiftly lose the smile he wore. His father wouldn’t be happy if he returned without the needed contract to get the metal. If what that Spaniard had told him was true, then his brother had stolen his fiancé too. Talon released a curse, his hands tightening around the handle till it made a popping sound.
The Echimdese family was making his path more and more difficult to traverse. His bitch of a stepmother was from the same family, the family of the damned. They’d made his life what it was. If they hadn’t been so greedy for the throne and ran his uncle to the ground, his father would never have been king.
Did they make his sins any less? No. But to Talon, it did make him consider his hate for his father, if only for the moment.
He would return home and continue the war for the throne, with or without the metal. The price, he would tell his father, was too high for him to pay, though he wouldn’t share what the price was. After all, he knew he had the ability to take her then. He could have used words, but he could also have used the essence that made him a vampire. He hadn’t.
He wouldn’t dirty her memory of his departure with his actions.
“Ah, my friend, I did not think you frequented such places.”
Talon blearily looked up to find himself staring at the Spaniard. He frowned. “What are you doing here?”
Giving a sardonic look, the Spaniard took a seat. “Why else would a man frequent a brothel?”
Talon scoffed as he lifted his tankard. “Well,” he said. Taking a deep drink, he removed his legs from the top of the table. “I’ve come here for my last drink of their fine ale.”
“Ah.” The Spaniard frowned, casting a look around. The brothel was filled with loud merry-making, as men dragged half nude women into their laps. “If they wanted to be alone with their thoughts, I wouldn’t believe they’d come here, si?”
Talon shrugged. “So, were you looking for me, or passing by?”
“Well, in truth, I was seeking to know if you offered for the princess yet.”
Lowering his tankard to the table, Talon glared at him. “I don’t like being watched.”
“No, no, no. My friend, I was just guessing. From your behavior at the ball, I assumed.” He gave Talon a Gaelic shrug.
“Well, you guessed wrong,” Talon snapped. Throwing the rest of the ale, he stood, catching himself on the table. He frowned when the room swam around him. “Ah, my head.”
“Good,” the Spaniard said, standing as well and coming to his side. “It will be easier then.”
Confused, he tried to regain his focus as he attempted to lean away from Gutierrez. “What will be?” he slurred.
The Spaniard smirked. His image became blurry and his voice seemed to be coming from a tunnel. “Your demise, that is.”
Those were the last words
Talon heard before his sight completely became black and he fell forward, hitting the floor hard.
Gutierrez sighed. Pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve, he reached out, picking up the tankard. As three burly men approached from behind him, he motioned to Talon at his feet. “Take him. The gahiji said they know where to put him.”
Picking him up, they pretended as though he’d gone over his limit and Gutierrez paid the serving wench an extra gold coin to keep her lips sealed. Apparently, the prince hadn’t known he’d walked into a brothel that was located in the equivalent of Seven Dials.
Bird returned to the palace after her brief conversation with her mother. Removing the shawl so that it hung below her face, she made her way towards the upper floor.
“Kahlia!”
Hearing her name, she turned her gaze to the courtyard, only to see Essa waving her over. Changing her path, she made her way outside, over to her cousin. Essa smiled at her as she drew closer. Her servants had drawn old runes on her cheeks in silver paint. Her dark skin had been smoothed with something red as well. She stood next to something burning and her servants continued to move items within her reach. She picked up a pink shawl and tossed it into the fire before she turned towards Bird and exclaimed softly, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Bird glanced at the fire with weary amusement. “I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with tossing me into the fire.”
Her cousin laughed. “Oh no!” She brushed some ash from her cheek, which resulted in some smearing there. “It’s the beginning of my marriage ceremony.” She turned her eyes towards the fire pit. “It’s a tradition for a bride to burn her things of youth.” She met Bird’s gaze with a soft smile. “To prepare her for moving towards womanhood.”
Bird nodded at this, and said quizzically, “What would I burn? There is nothing here from my childhood.”
Essa blinked, taken aback by the somber question. She took a moment to observe Kahlia fully. The princess was usually jolly and often pulled Essa out of her own melancholy. Yet, she currently appeared troubled. Her brow was furrowed as if she was thinking about something deeply. Essa lifted the tongs she’d been using to push the burning material deeper and handed it to a servant. Smiling, she reached out, placing a hand gently upon Kahlia’s arm. “Let’s go for a walk, hmm?”
Bird stared into Essa’s soft gaze before giving a short nod. The two requested their servants to not follow them, as they turned and continued on the path towards the back gardens where tropical plants had been planted to emulate the old Byzantium hanging garden.
The silence between them was of the comfortable sort. Both women had troubled thoughts, but both were unsure of expressing them aloud. The birds chirped in the distance as the sunlight dimmed as they passed under the tall branches of coconut trees.
Essa spoke first, motioning towards the tall trees. “Do you know how these gardens came to be?”
Bird shook her head. Essa nodded, smiling slightly. “The fourth king of Katari, Repf was delivered a bride from the deep of the southern continent. She was a reluctant bride, sold to end a war. Their first night, she held him at sword point and declared she would die before she would allow his touch.”
Essa stopped before a large tree, whose heavy roots rose above the soil, disturbing the grass that surrounded the path where they stood. She stared up at it, her gaze soft. “Needless to say, after a month of fighting, he decided to create this place in a last bid for her heart.” She glanced over at Bird, who was currently watching a white feather bird that was hopping along a branch. “Needless to say, it worked.”
“Are you not sure it’s just a story?” Bird asked, her voice low. “What if the truth is he took her that night and several nights after.” She turned her dark gaze to meet Essa’s. “And suddenly, he realized what he’d done was wrong, and this,” she looked around the large garden, “was his first attempt at apologizing.”
“And if that is so, is it so wrong?” Essa asked, turning to face her. “Is he not still worthy of praise for realizing his wrong?”
Bird scoffed, avoiding Essa’s stare. “Fairy tales to make maidens feel secure in the knowledge that they are being sold for a country.” She shook her head, closing her eyes. “Even if he beat you, despised you… your people will still demand you have a child, that you face the man who only wishes to use you.” She glared at Essa. “Do not tell me it has not once crossed your mind that the latter could happen to you and me.”
Essa dropped her gaze down and stared at the ground. “It has, but…” She lifted her gaze, looking earnest. “I refuse to think the man I will marry would be so cruel.”
“Essa, he’s of the night race!” Bird exclaimed, grabbing her cousin’s hand. “They are descendants of Lilith and incubi are their mothers. Even in Britain, we’ve heard of what they are known to do to those they do not particularly like. Do not feign calm when we both know you are afraid! As am I!”
“I-I’ve nothing else I can do,” Essa said, trembling, her soft purple eyes filling with tears. “I-I’ve been sold and there is nothing I can do. Nothing.” She dropped her head, her eyes wide as she stared at Bird’s feet, her brow creasing. “Was I this helpless, this powerless?”
Her question went unanswered as she continued to cry, her bent head pressed against Bird’s chest. Bird had no answer for her. After all, she’d never had control of her life. Every aspect of her life had been controlled, every moment had been planned and used against her.
So, she stood silent, watching the clouds pass overhead. She’d grown tired of crying. She wouldn’t do it any longer. She allowed her cousin to cry her heart out against her. She lifted a hand and laid it gently on Essa’s back. She couldn’t change her cousin’s fate, but she could at least comfort her on the way.
After a long moment, when Essa had finished crying, the two women simply stood in the quiet, both knowing each other’s thoughts without a word.
Bird spoke, staring into the darkening garden foliage. “Which country should I choose?”
Essa lifted her head, pulling away from Bird, the decorations smeared from her tears. She met Bird’s gaze in confusion. “Which country?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking… which man should I marry?” Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “The Chinese fourth prince is descended from the Draken race and they’ve good relations with Katari and are currently in good standing with the other European countries, but…”
“But?” Essa repeated, pulling away and rubbing at her eyes.
“I’d be the wife out of six,” Bird said, gathering her hands together in front of her. “I don’t like the idea of having to fight with six other women for some attention. The seventh wife also feels unluckly somehow.”
Essa, realizing what Bird was speaking about, mouth parted in surprise.
Lifting a hand, Bird brushed at her chin, her expression thoughtful. “The Russian is good; he’s a duke, not a prince. The wolven line is strong, so our child would definitely be able to change.”
“You would marry the lykan? Are they not a fearsome people?”
Bird glanced at her and smiled, her dark eyes filling with purple. “I think I can handle a dog. It might even be fun to train him,” she mused aloud, as she turned to continue on her way on the path.
Quickly regaining her composure, Essa quickly caught up with her. “It would, but they are not in the best relationship with the royal house in Spain. The Spanish princess was insulted by their king.”
Bird scoffed. “The Spaniards are descendants of Manticore. They would naturally not get along with wolf-kind; it’s the cat part of them.”
“Hmm.” They paused near the fountain of R’or’s first son, Octin. “Well, what does that leave you with?”
Bird used her finger to tick each one off. “The Fae of France, the angels of Italy, and finally, the fourth realm demons of Greece.”
Essa chuckled, taking a seat on the rim of the fountain, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, it would
seem you’ve a clear idea of whom you wish to marry.”
“Does it appear so?” she asked. Bird wasn’t sure she really wished to marry them. Despite what she’d said to her mother, she still didn’t wish to marry. She wanted freedom. In that, she agreed with her other self. She didn’t wish to be tied down, but if she had to choose, if she must pick a husband, then she preferred to have one of her choosing. A flash of red eyes passed her mind’s eye and she frowned. He was not someone who could be chosen.
Essa’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “What of the vampire of Britain? I thought you two held interest in each other. His family is a stable royal family with rule of Ireland and Scotland, no? Though it is in truth still a mystery how they managed to ground so many different beings under one house.”
“No,” Bird said sharply. “We do not suit.” Her eyes narrowed on the fountain, as her fingers curled in her skirt. “He would be the last of whom I would choose to marry.”
Turning on her heel, she marched away.
“W-wait!”
Essa chased after her, but Bird wasn’t interested in talking further. The very idea of her being with Talon was laughable and unrealistic as he was far and away. He would never have returned; he had promised.
Pain filled eyes stared into her angry ones. “And if I were to tell you that it wasn’t out of some twisted plan that I approached you, would you believe me?”
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. She wouldn’t, she would never believe another man! Not him, nor Fitzwilliam… no one!
She ran. Essa chased after, calling her name, but Bird refused to stop. She couldn’t let her tainted thoughts catch up with her.
Chapter Three
Jorin knew something to be wrong as his brother had yet to appear and the ship was being readied for departure. He stood in the shadows as he was currently a runaway slave in the eyes of this country. He glared as the last of the cargo was loaded, and the sailors pulled up the platform.
He pulled his hood lower and watched the royal soldiers make the trek down the wharf. Something wasn’t right, and Jorin had learned to trust his instinct over three grueling years. He hadn’t survived so easily. Even at a time like this, he still felt the urge to act out on his murderous rage, something he couldn’t suppress, or get rid of. Lifting his pack higher, he lowered his head and left the shadow of the pub and made his way into the crowd of people.