by Amy Miles
“I have truly lost her,” he whispers and leans over the edge, tumbling down into darkness.
ONE
My mother used to say that the eyes are the window to a person’s soul. Over the past few months I have begun to wonder if that extends to dreams as well.
Rolling onto my side, I slip out from beneath the covers and plod silently across the cool tile floor. A shiver that has nothing to do with the cool breeze wafting through the floor to ceiling windows grips me. I cross my arms over my chest and rub my fingers over gooseflesh.
I had another dream last night. They seem to be coming more frequently. This one has repeated several times. Each morning I dream of the man called Bastien falling into a ravine, and I awake with tears in my eyes and an ache in my chest.
Eamon suspects something is wrong, but I can’t tell him about it for fear of hurting his feelings. I have considered seeking Kyan’s counsel, wondering if these strange dreams are somehow visions of the future. But how can they be? The dream was of my wedding day, and that was months ago. Perhaps it is a glimpse into the past?
I lean against a tall marble-veined pillar and look out through the white gossamer curtains that sway in the breeze. The hem tickles my bare feet, but I hardly notice. Perhaps it is nothing more than stress, I surmise as I think back upon the past few months since my wedding day.
My life will never be the same. The day King Aloysius’ regime fell and I was crowned Queen, I set aside my childish fancies and became a woman: insecure and unsure of herself, but determined none the less. I hardly recognize myself when I look in the mirror now. Although I have grown fond of my black hair, there is a hollowness in my eyes that feels foreign to me.
I was sure Eamon would notice, but he has his own duties to attend to when back on Calisted. I turn and glance back at him over my shoulder, smiling at the tawny hue of his bare back against the white covers. He stirs, restless in his own sleep. I love moments like this when the world falls away and I am able to just be. No one calling my name. No one demanding an audience.
The name “wife” has been one that I have greatly enjoyed accepting. Eamon is a wonderful, attentive husband. He is kind and gentle, just as I always knew he would be. It was he that insisted that we finally leave for a long overdue honeymoon. Although I put up a fight, insisting that I was needed back on Calisted, he enlisted the help of Kyan to overrule me. A mutiny among my own ranks.
I turn away from Eamon, feeling the familiar warmth in my belly as I notice the curve of his jawline or unruly hair after a night spent in my arms. I know that I am blessed. I have a life that any woman could dream for and yet, in the early morning stillness, sometimes I feel completely alone. As if a part of me has been stolen away and I am left searching for it, though I have no idea where to look.
The sound of covers shifting brings a smile to my face. I listen without turning as Eamon stirs, groaning as he stretches. His feet pad against the floor as he approaches. His arms encircle my waist as he places his lips against the nape of my neck. His warm breath sends ripples of goosebumps across my bare skin.
He brushes his hand across the thin strap that drapes my nightgown across my body, pushing it down my arms so that he can have unimpeded access. It pools at my feet and I close my eyes to the cool breeze as it washes over my bare skin.
Eamon presses the length of his body against my back. I lean instinctively back into him, closing my eyes to his touch. His fingers graze along my skin, sliding down my arms to rest against my hip. “I missed you,” he whispers against my ear.
“I’ve only been gone a moment,” I laugh and turn my face. His lips slide up from my neck and he nestles into the hair billowing around my ear.
“Feels like an eternity.” His groan and the press of his fingers against my hips makes me laugh softly.
“After last night I expected you to sleep the day away.”
“And miss having you in my arms?” He pulls back my curtain of hair and presses his lips just behind my ear. I shiver as his arm winds around my waist, drawing me in close. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Is that all?” I wind my hand back around my side to grasp his hand as it begins to journey into sensitive regions. His fingers flex as if he doesn’t want to give up control but he allows me to wind my fingers through his and draw him back to my waist. I turn to face him, my resolve wavering in the face of his endearing pout.
I will never get used to the sight of Eamon. I have spent years looking at him, hunting beside him, even falling asleep in his arms under the stars, but this is different. He stands before me without any barriers. Nothing hidden. Nothing secret. The level of intimacy is one that I could never have conceived of before, bonding us together in ways that make my toes curl with excitement.
Eamon leans forward and kisses the end of my nose. It is his sign that he is willing to concede defeat...for the moment.
“You seem distracted,” Eamon whispers as he winds his arms around my waist, holding me close.
I nod, allowing a small frown to tear down my smile. “I’m sorry. I’m being a terrible wife, aren’t I?”
Eamon gently uses his thumb and forefinger to lift my chin so that I meet his tender gaze. “That is not possible.” He smiles and tucks a stray clump of hair behind my ear. I can only imagine how messy it looks after so many hours spent lounging in bed. Hardly the behavior expected of a Queen, but at the moment I struggle to find a reason to care while in his arms. “Homesick already?”
“A bit,” I admit sheepishly. Though we have only been gone a short time, I find myself drawn back to my people. Our people. On Earth my only purpose in life was to hunt, to bring in the game so we could eat. It was a simple task; not always an easy one, but it was something I was good at. Now my days are filled with meetings, delegations, official reports, and I hardly have time to think of myself.
I do not begrudge this new role. A part of me actually enjoys it, especially when I am able to get out among the people and see the changes that have occurred since my late husband’s death.
Aloysius was a cruel dictator. It took the first three months after his death to recall many of the troops from Earth and allow them to be with their families. Husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, siblings reunited for the first time since the invasion. Countless officials within Aloysius’ court were released to be returned to their homes, their abilities no longer being exploited for personal gain but used for the greater good. Many volunteered to return to Earth to see to the repairs but those who wished to remain behind were granted their desire.
Regular supply routes have been created to send much needed supplies to the people of Earth. Rebuilding teams have already begun working alongside the survivors to uncover ruins of cities and begin restoring them to their former glory. I dearly wish that I could take part in the renovations myself, but my place is here.
Kyan is still head of my war council, seeing to the finer details of keeping our defenses intact. Carleon is his second-in-command now, a position that I believe is all too fitting for my friend. His most pressing task has been to nominate other leaders to take over command of Caldonian soldiers who live among the stars.
Distant worlds are being explored and inhabited. Peace flows like the river that trails through the heart of Calahorra, which has been recently renamed “City of the Queen.”
I feel safe knowing that I have the best advisors and friends surrounding me, and yet something feels off. Perhaps it’s the dreams that continue to plague me. Dreams of a man whose eyes are capable of piercing through the veil of sleep to find me each night.
I cast my gaze away as Eamon draws me into his embrace. My head nestles perfectly in the hollow of his throat as he rests his chin atop my head. I cannot bear to look at him as I think upon the pain that I felt while trapped within my dream. I felt the man’s anguish as he leapt from his window and spiraled down into darkness. That is when I always wake, not knowing if he survives the plunge.
Even as the light of
a new dawn calls me forth from the dream world, I know that this man is a real person. A man with a name. Bastien. But why do I know this? Why does he come to me every night?
Eamon raises his hands from my waist to my upper arms as he draws back to look at me. “You’re still having the dreams, aren’t you?”
For a moment I consider lying, changing the subject or evading his question with a sultry kiss, but that will not allay his questions fully. Eamon will know something is wrong. He always does. “Yes,” I admit in a whisper.
He sighs and tucks me into his arms, inserting himself into my world both physically as well as emotionally. “You know, a less secure guy would be worried that his wife is dreaming about strange men.”
“No! They aren’t like that!” I blink as I wrench back from his grasp, flabbergasted that he would even insinuate that my dreams are anything more than what they are. Then I notice the smirk forming along his lips and I smack him on the shoulder. “You’re evil.”
Eamon places a gentle kiss against my forehead and releases me. “And yet for some reason you still love me.”
His bare feet whisper back across the tile floor as he makes a beeline straight for the bed. The covers are rumpled, twisted and hanging from the side onto the floor. The sight of Eamon’s bare back calls to me and yet I remain near the window, soaking in the cool breeze that drifts off the water beyond. I can hear the lapping of waves and sigh.
From Calisted this moon reflects a deep, pure blue. Now that I have come to this place and seen the vast oceans, I understand why. Only ten percent of this moon has land. The rest is filled with waters teeming with life. I could spend hours staring out the window, marveling at the sea life, though Eamon hardly ever allows me the opportunity.
With a less than graceful leap, Eamon flops onto the bed. He bounces twice before settling onto the enormous circular mattress. His bronze skin seems darker against the pristine white covers as he rolls over to cuddle a pillow and gives me a rather appealing view of his backside.
“Hard to resist, huh?”
Smirking behind my hand, I nod but turn and stare out over the ocean. I have grown so accustomed to the lavender waves of Calisted that the brilliant sapphire blues of this moon steal my breath away, making me long for a trip back to Earth. Although Calisted is my home now, a part of me remained behind on Earth. It will always be my first love.
The floor-length sheer curtains billow around my legs, caressing them with each breath of air. Casting a final glance back at Eamon, I step out onto the balcony, musing for the hundredth time how freeing it is to be completely alone, exposed to the elements without fear of being seen. The morning air feels cool in my lungs as I breathe in deep, savoring the slightly sweet taste on the breeze from the bunches of fruit dangling on vines near the ground below. They appear almost like apples but instead of a shiny red exterior, they are deep purple and juicy. One bite will leave you racing for the waves to wash off.
The stunning panoramic views of Alenida, the emerald jungle moon hanging in the sky before me, does little to ease the growing fear that has taken root in my soul. I can feel something coming, though I don’t know what. I have questioned Eamon as discreetly as I can to look into the future for any sign of danger, but each time I do the thought of anything happening to me upsets him too greatly, and I draw back from my questioning. I too have searched through the future but have seen nothing.
Seeing nothing bothers me. It is as if my future has been wiped clean. I spoke to Kyan about this very fact but he brushed it off, saying that it must have had something to do with my altering time. Although I want to believe his counsel I can’t shake the feeling that there is something more going on.
I rest my hands upon the sweeping white stone banister before me and watch as a herd of Pentrade graze on the grasses that grow along the beach dunes. They closely resemble the deer that I used to hunt on Earth, apart from the miniature charcoal wings that sweep out from their sides as they walk and tuck completely against their hides when they run. They are graceful as they move, almost as if they are of one mind. Their hooved feet sink deep into the dunes as they begin to move out of sight.
I sigh and shift my gaze north. Calisted is illuminated brightly in the early morning sky. It glows a brilliant turquoise. The mists that cling to the planet cast a soft glow, almost like a ring around the beautiful water orb. I can spy strips of thick cloud cover and storms building along the horizon. It is rainy season now on the eastern side of the planet. Soon, the streams will rise and new life will spring forth.
It has been difficult to really capture the rhyme and reason to the seasons on Calisted. They seem to be a perpetual spring or fall. No winter. No snow. No ice. Only warmth, as invigorating as it is painfully predictable.
I never thought I would say this, but I will miss winter, miss the delicate white flakes that drift from the sky and land upon your nose or tongue. Although living in the wilderness during winter was a treacherous and laborious endeavor, it felt right. It felt normal.
Too many things about my move to Calisted still feel completely foreign. Months of living at the palace has yet to give me a true feeling of the vastness of the building. There are more rooms than I would care to count and more hallways than should ever reside in a single building.
Kyan knows those halls like the hairs on the back of his hand. Someday I hope to be able to say the same, but that will be a near impossibility with the numerous meetings I am ushered back and forth between.
Up to this point I have refused to use the throne room. It is too vast, too impersonal, and the recent events that transpired there have left a sour taste in my mouth. Eamon and I will never sit on thrones on a platform perched high above everyone else. There is no part of me that wants to be looked upon as someone to worship or bow down to.
Now, staring out at Calisted, I am reminded of how precious this time away is. A gift skillfully plotted out by my friends Aminah and Zahra, with Eamon and Kyan well within their loop of secrecy. While I was trapped in meetings, they secretly contracted to have this old ruin turned into a palace fit for a queen, or at least someone really lavish and with impeccable taste. I blame Zahra for that extravagance.
I have no doubt that Kyan personally inspected every inch of this retreat before giving his final approval for our visit. Thinking back, I can remember the ugly battle that broke out between Eamon and Kyan just before our honeymoon concerning Eamon’s request to have Kyan’s best soldier stand as body guard during our honeymoon. To be honest, I was a little surprised myself with Kyan’s flat refusal. He has never refused me before.
There was no room to budge on the subject. No amount of fretting, shouting or pleading on Eamon’s part had been able to sway Kyan. This made me suspicious. Kyan’s sole purpose is to protect me with every resource on both of our planets, not to mention a ton of outlying worlds that I am only just now beginning to learn the names of. Why would he choose to refuse Eamon this one simple request? It is not as if he was asking too much.
When I pressed the issue, the only response Kyan would give was that his man’s skills would best serve the people by remaining at his post on the outer rim. I chose to trust Kyan’s judgment. My life has become a whirlwind of juggling politics and putting out fires. He knows his men far better than I do so I left the decision in his capable hands, though I’m not so sure Eamon will let the matter drop so easily upon our return.
Lifting my gaze, I stare out at the moons, marveling how each one has a distinctly different hue. The scarlet moon called Murilian, a planet plagued by violent storms, endless blood red oceans with predators to rival any in Earth’s waters and tidal waves capable of destroying entire cities if one actually existed there. To my knowledge, there is only one man living on this moon: the prophetess Sariana’s brother Kaladan.
With Aloysius overthrown and the threat of danger passed, word was sent to Kaladan that he was free to return home, but he refused. In the years of hiding out from the King he learned new ways…the ways
of a recluse.
I can’t say that I blame him. Some days I would gladly join him there myself just to escape, though I know that one day soon I will journey to this moon to seek his counsel.
The next nearest moon is a beautiful emerald shade, its surface every changing under a thin layer of wispy clouds that appear to encircle the entire moon. Although nearly double the size of Murilian, and with a decidedly different climate, this swirling sphere acts as the first line of defense against any who might live among the stars: the outer rim.
Staring up at the moon, I feel an odd longing to go there. I have heard the jungles are an amazing sight to behold, but the heat is atrocious. The animal life on this planet is a shade more tame than that of Murilian, but I have heard the plant life has grown a few sets of teeth.
Beyond these two moons a blanket of stars twinkle brightly in the sky. Despite the many years lying on a hilltop on warm summer nights, cuddled up against Eamon’s chest creating names for all of the stars, I have never seen them look so big or bright. It feels as if I could stretch out my hand and pluck one from the sky.
With a weighted sigh, I turn away from the view. My stomach clenches as I turn to see Eamon sitting on the edge of the bed, clothed only in a wisp of white linen sheet. His hair is heavily tousled, evidence of my growing affection for running my fingers through his golden strands.
Leaning against the archway to our room, I can’t help but think of how surreal all of this is. A year ago I was just a girl who loved to hunt and break all of the rules. Now I am not only a queen of an entire race of people, but I am a wife as well. This newest role seems the most daunting to me by far.
Eamon rises and plods back toward me, his hands outstretched to accept mine. His grip is firm yet loving as he draws me close. I nestle eagerly into his chest, savoring the scent of his bare skin, a musk that is distinctly his.