by Isu Yin
I have received your package. Thank you for the book. I found it thought provoking.
In my home, we do not celebrate birthdays, we dread them, so you have brought a hint of joy into my routine. If possible, I’d like to know more about your life—about you.
Tell me, is the grass really greener on the other side?
She signed and sealed the second letter and passed it to Firmus. “My thoughts are with you.”
“I shall deliver them safely.” He stood in one swift movement. “Please excuse me, I must return to Abyssus now.”
She fought a smile. “Be well, Firmus.”
“Be strong, Lady Fate.”
The lights across the street flickered on to signal the start of the night. Nitor was liveliest after dark, when the nobles paraded about the community, spending their time and money on outrageous displays of grandeur.
She took her shawl from the stand by her lamp and snuck out the window onto the snowy path. The shopkeepers had treated her kindly, despite her circumstances, and greeted her. Many nobles also passed her by, some ogling her with great interest, and others—mostly women—snarling at her.
She had grown accustomed to the numerous reactions and smiled regardless.
Her walk led her to the gates of Nitor Palace, where she curtsied to the tired guards standing watch outside.
One of the men at the gate approached, burning red in the face. “Good day, Lady.”
People farther from the brothel occasionally mistook her for a visiting Royal.
She recognized the other man, a frequent client at the brothel. Clients rarely wanted to be addressed outside, so she pretended not to notice him and greeted the first guard. “Good day. Nice evening, isn’t it?”
“I wish! Don’t you get tired of all this snow, Lady?”
“No, I quite like it. It’s very peaceful.”
The guard adjusted his gear. “By the sound of it, you must be the King’s next attempt to marry off Prince Hero.”
“What would make you think that?”
He shifted his gaze towards a bowed window on the second floor. “You know how it is. It’s his fault we can’t get rid of this dreadful weather. I’ll bet he enjoys watching us suffer.”
She had learned about the odd weather in Nex at a very young age. It was by far the coldest and smallest kingdom in all of Mu, and though the neighboring kingdoms experienced the cool rush of the ocean air, they never froze like Nex.
As the guard suggested, rumors claimed that Caeles Hero caused this. Supposedly, wherever the Caeles family went, the cold followed, and as their moods changed from high to low, so did the temperature of their setting. The ice elementals needed the cold in order to survive, much like the Igni needed heat wherever they lived or traveled.
The strangest part about this was that the three Igni resided in Nex, yet the weather remained uncharacteristically cold.
She reflected on this knowledge for a time before replying to the guard. “Doesn’t he need this weather to be healthy?”
“Not to this degree! This is just an emotional outburst, no doubt. If the King would just let the prince out, we might actually see some life around here. If you’re here for him, then I wish you well, Lady.” He shivered, breathed into his hands, and returned to his post.
So that’s how it is. Why lock him up in the first place?
Fate walked farther up the path to see the window more clearly. Ultimately, she climbed the back of the bathhouse to peer over the tall gate. From her elevated position, she saw the lit-up room on the second floor, and a figure sitting at a window seat.
Hero leaned back against the window, writing notes onto staff paper.
She strained to see the tune, but part of his shoulder blocked the paper, and she was too far away, at any rate. “He’s left handed too.”
A maid interrupted his notations to deliver Fate’s letter.
After the woman had gone, he repositioned to lean against the wall. His eyes moved quickly back and forth as he read the message.
The world was so quiet, even the din of the nobles drifted away from the rooftop. Fate’s heart grew heavy as she watched. “What did you mean when you sent that book?”
Hero pressed his hand against the window, gazed out at the community, and smiled softly.
What is he looking at? Wait a minute! He might be able to see me if I stand below!
She jumped down from the rooftop and ran out into the streetlight. From that distance, she easily met his line of sight.
His hand patted the glass once in surprise, and he pressed the letter against the window.
As soon as she nodded, he pointed outside until she noticed a small, frozen flower.
Now a paper was stuck against the glass:
Keep it. Goodnight.
The light in the room turned off, and Fate faced the path home with the flower in hand. A short time later, she glanced back at the window.
Why wasn’t he surprised to see me?
My exchanges with Abyssus became infrequent as time moved on. His duty to uncover the truth finally led Mortis to suspect him of treason.
In the letters that I did receive, my brother maintained his reckless temperament towards Mortis. All I could do was hope that Firmus could protect him.
Hero won the Astor Tournament, leaps and bounds ahead of the other successors. That was when the storms started. Every day in Nex was colder than the last. We were buried in snow, just a white haze on the map of Mu.
I asked Abyssus for information, pleaded with him to explain the circumstances, but he only promised to deliver his journal when the time was right.
Fate tended to men in the visitors’ rooms and listened to their lustful babble about her upcoming performance. She had collected a number of clients during her stay at the brothel.
Rahma easily fell victim to the allure of Ancients, the attraction as addictive as a drug to the Rahma.
Fate watched with interest as Fortuna poured a drink for their enchanted client, who could only dream of holding a woman of the Madam’s status. In truth, even Nigel’s status dimmed by comparison; nonetheless, Fortuna prided herself on catching him, as though the struggle was her own.
The Madam’s golden eyes glinted in the light. The Igni Cat’s Eye saw far beyond that of any other Ancient, though it certainly didn’t take an Oracle to sense Fate’s discomfort.
Any sensible Ancient detested the Rahma’s lust.
Fortuna leaned over, concealing her whisper with the wavy hair that swept across her cheek. “You look peaked. Head to your room. I’ll send a special client to bide your time.”
“Thank you, Madam.” Fate returned as requested, carrying a heap of crushing guilt upon her small shoulders. If not for her involvement with the Rebellion, she would have faced the same terrors as the girls before her.
Madam was a mother to all girls at the brothel, but they knew that if ever she considered one her child, it would have been Fate. Fortuna and her beloved often preached about how Fate was made to ascend the Capital throne. They did this so often that Fate started to believe it herself, mostly in hopes of changing the state of the kingdom.
The Royal Council disregarded Nex because of its Rahma rulers, hence they beseeched Hero to become the next High King. They wished to maintain Ancient tradition, but that also raised questions like the one oft heard whispered: “If Hero is a Half-Breed, then how is that maintaining tradition?”
A figure shifted in the reflection of Fate’s mirror and she turned her head, squinting at the unknown man. After a brief inspection, her heart tugged in a fusion of relief and alarm.
Abyssus beamed at her from the doorway, standing several heads taller than the last time they’d met.
She breathed in so deeply her lungs ached. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He joined her at the low table. In spite of his growth, he reserved his soft, rounded features. The same dark, wavy hair swept over his twinkling violet eyes.
Fate patted the snow off his head and used the long slee
ves of her robes to warm his icy cheeks. She had long yearned for his warmth. “What are you doing here?”
He pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. I must tell you something important, but I don’t have much time.”
“Did you have to come here? It’s dangerous.”
He leaned his head against hers and sighed. “Just once, I wanted to see you. Soon, you’ll understand.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“It’s okay. Listen, I’ll be attending your performance with Hero and Niteo. I’m sure Fortis will tag along, but that’s beside the point. Hero is going to be there, so I urge you to speak with him.”
“At the performance?” She exhaled the words, “You think I have the time to talk to him at my performance? Are you mad?”
“Don’t panic. Are you a courtesan, or not? It doesn’t matter who you’re approaching. We both know that it only takes a moment to captivate a guest.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”
They’d planned for so long to find a chance for Fate to meet Hero, and the performance would provide an opportunity to catch him. If she could speak to him, even for a moment, she could ask for an invitation to Nitor Palace. In person, she could see his reactions and persuade him more easily.
She took the Sands of Time from her bookshelf. “I know what to do.”
I once thought I was in control of things, that I was spinning the wheel of fortune with my own two hands. Perhaps I was afraid, but I still charged recklessly into battle, clueless to the events I was about to set into motion.
It took little time for me to teach my sisters the routine, for we did nothing but perform.
I was to be the Lady Ulnaire, the Goddess of Destruction who spun storms with her song.
My sisters praised me. “You are truly a spitting image of the Lady Ulnaire.”
Little did I realize, Hero was not Solaris.
Fate waited behind the curtain, watching the crowd.
Her younger sisters whispered behind her in excitement about the beauty of the Lady Ulnaire. She was only a character to them, not their sister.
With a practiced smile, she turned to them and recited, “Chaos beckons to Solaris, but to little avail. How shall my words reach him this day?”
Tori jested, “May the winds guide you, Lady Ulnaire.”
Their sisters giggled and puckered their lips to mimic Fate’s pouting expression.
“Enough of that.” She hushed them. “We must be vigilant in our methods if we hope to reach Solaris.”
The Madam stepped onto the stage to give her welcoming speech, glistening from head to toe. The beads of her gown twinkled in the light. Several of her guests whistled and hooted at her, and she bowed her head at them politely. “Welcome, all, I am Madam Fortuna. We gather here this night to honor our most recent blossom, Lady Fate. She has chosen to share a story with all of you, our honored guests. I encourage everyone to attend the after-party for an opportunity to speak with our Leading Lady. Please enjoy the show.” She bowed and stepped off the stage.
As soon as the audience finished their applause, the theatre lights turned off.
The four youngest girls snuck out from behind the curtain to take their positions in the darkness. Clusters of large, colorful orbs traveled through the theatre then, one by one, and the lights at the bottom of the stage clicked on.
The first girls on stage stood completely still in their positions, their toes pointed and their hands raised back. The music commenced and their colorful scarves moved together in smooth waving movements. They were the Lady Ulnaire’s winds, the very notes of her song. Each girl linked together to create the perfect storm, the entrance of the Lady Ulnaire.
Fate prepared to make her appearance, fanning out the back of her robes and balancing carefully on her platform shoes, while Tori adjusted the beaded crown and corset. The costume hung so heavily that Fate strained to move.
Tori assisted her up to the curtain, waiting for the four girls on stage to finish their routine. “Go,” she said, giving a slight push for encouragement.
Fate slid her feet forward, one before the other, balancing herself cautiously. All of her practice had led up to this performance; she couldn’t afford to break her smile.
If I can pull this off, I will change everything.
She reached the center of the stage and the four girls dropped to the floor, their scarves drifting after them like wisps of smoke.
Only one light shone now, focused directly on Fate, and silence swept through the theatre as all eyes fixed on her in awe. She scanned the audience until she saw her brother’s signal from a compact mirror reflecting off the lights above.
I can do this.
She stretched out a hand towards the audience and allowed the silence to hang for a moment longer. When all was completely still, she unleashed the Lady Ulnaire’s song upon them.
The Goddess never sang with words, for her voice alone compelled the winds of chaos, and Fate intended to do the same. She’d spent many turns honing her voice, to help release her buried pain, and now she could unleash that same agony in its truest form, not only her own, but that of her sisters. The song carried their fears about the future, and the pain of their past.
When the anticipation of the crowd had reached its limit, she let the sting of the light draw out a single tear, and closed her eyes. The pang of drums beat through the theatre as she stepped down from her shoes.
Her sisters rose from the floor. One placed a black mask over Fate’s face, and another removed the crown.
Fate swung her head to show the pain in the demise of Lady Ulnaire.
The light from the mirror shone again, a mere glitter at the corner of her eye as she threw out her arms and spun down the walkway in a flurry of trailing robes.
Her decline signaled the last part of the performance, the sands of time. Sparkling confetti rained down from the rafts above. She gripped her head and unclipped the band of the mask. As it clacked to the floor, she reached out a hand to gather some of the falling confetti on her palm, and blew it toward the mirror’s light.
“Blessed are ye, Solaris. I’m afraid my time has come.” She collected her robes and shoes and strolled backstage.
Tori parted the curtain and welcomed her back. “You did it! His gaze followed you all the way down the stage.”
The lights in the theatre eased on, revealing the stunned audience. They sat in long silence before discussing the performance.
Fate heaved a sigh. Her body ached, but she had succeeded.
Her sisters praised her as they assisted her out of costume.
She received a rough pat from Tori and another encouraging shove. “Finish what you’ve started.”
Fate shot out of the curtain, fixing her robes and hair. She quickly collected herself with her standard, practiced smile, and hurried to the King’s party.
Abyssus glanced at her, smirking faintly as he picked pieces of confetti off Hero’s head.
She curtsied politely before King Niteo. “Good evening, Your Majesty. I am honored to have performed for you this evening. I do hope you enjoyed the show.”
He resembled Neco far too much for her comfort.
She pressed her lips together tightly to hide her disgust. Even though she knew it was unwarranted, she couldn’t help her instincts.
“You’re far too polite.” He sighed blissfully. “Your performance was awe-inspiring. You look stunning, my dear.”
“Thank you kindly.”
Fortis stepped forward and kissed her hand. He had spent several nights drinking tea with her when he could afford the time and money to do so. His dramatic behavior always brought her immense joy, especially on stormy nights. “Lady Fate, you are more brilliant than the stars. You must be the most desired woman in all of Mu. I cannot wait to brag to Firmus about your lovely performance.”
“Is he well?”
“With your brother around, he must be.”
She forced down a cackle. “Th
en perhaps Abyssus should have played the Lady Ulnaire.”
Abyssus nearly snapped his neck shooting a glare. His cheeks burned fiercely red. “The devil is in you.” He hid his face in his turtle-neck sweater.
Hero laughed faintly, which provided Fate the perfect opportunity to address him without speculation.
She summoned her smokiest voice and brushed his wrist with her fingertips. “Hero of Nitor, what a pleasure it is to finally make your acquaintance.”
He choked back his voice.
“What’s the matter?”
Fortis’s shoulders shuddered in his attempt to mask his laughter.
“Hey, let’s go get beverages,” Abyssus suggested, whisking Fortis away.
Hero’s hand opened and clenched the open air. He muttered something under his breath and stiffened as Fate drew closer.
His father had already been distracted by more important guests. The group laughed loudly, oblivious to the matters outside their circle.
Fate stepped closer. “I must say, you’re not as eloquent as I expected.” She looked carefully at her surroundings.
Neither the Madam nor her sisters were in sight. All of the guests focused on their companions or the King.
Fate snatched Hero from the theatre and treaded down the hallway through the dark brothel to the outside corridor, dragging him all the way down by the wrist.
She faced him again beneath the swinging red lanterns. “I’m sorry for being so forceful. I’ve wanted to speak to you for a long time.”
Hero blinked at her several times. He appeared to have heard her clearly, though he didn’t speak.
“I need your help.” She crouched down in the shadows, evading the red tint of the swinging lantern, and pulled Hero down into the darkness where the moonlight hit his face. Up close, the color of his eyes was so vivid that she caught herself staring. “I suppose I should try introducing myself first.” She touched his hand.
He jerked back, frowning. “I already know who you are.”
She expected him to be surprised to find her in the brothel, or at least to express the same sensitivities as the men before him. Her pride as courtesan faced unforeseen complications.