by Amy Miles
“I don’t really know how to explain it.” She crumples up her nose. “It’s almost like someone is massaging my mind. I can feel a presence but it remains just out of reach.”
I release Aminah’s hand and step back, frowning. “Has that ever happened before?”
There are only four people that I have ever known to possess this ability. Commander Drakon and Aloysius are both dead. Sariana has returned from Earth but taken up residence in a city over one hundred leagues from here. That leaves only one person, though I cannot fathom any reason why Kyan would bother to mess with Aminah’s mind.
Could someone else be playing with her thoughts? Surely there are others who possess the same abilities, but even so why would they pick today of all days to mess with her abilities?
“Do you know what it feels like?” Aminah shifts toward a chair and slowly sinks down. She winces at the narrow fit along her waist making it hard for her to bend, but somehow she manages to sort of flop back onto the chair. “It feels like there is a puzzle spread before me and one piece is missing and yet the piece was just there only a moment ago.
I bite on my lower lip, concerned though trying not to show it. “Well, whatever this new feeling is I’m sure it will pass. Right now you have only one thing to worry about.”
Aminah glances up at me and I grin. “Don’t trip over that darn dress as you walk down the aisle.”
The scent of wildflowers fills the air as I step through the open double doors. A crimson runner trails out before me, cushioning each step that I take. In the past traditions of Earth, I hold a woven basket on my arm and the velvety softness of flower petals slip through my fingers as I walk in time with the music.
A woman draped in a flowing silver dress, reminiscent of the moonflowers that I admired growing along the shores of our honeymoon retreat, sits before a tall stringed instrument. She strums her fingers along each strand, weaving a beautiful melody. Heads turn as I approach and I smile down at the men and women who have so easily become part of my family. Each of my friends’ parents, and my own as well, bow their heads in respect as I move past them up the aisle.
As promised, only a dozen people are in attendance apart from the security guards that linger in the corners, attempting to remain unnoticed. I look up to see Kyan and Zahra standing just off to the side, their hands clasped tightly in each other’s. Zahra insisted on getting hitched first, just in case the apocalypse struck in the middle of her big moment and Kyan rushed right out the door.
I smile at them, overjoyed to see Kyan’s mildly relaxed pose. I guess it’s better than nothing, I muse as I turn to look at Toren. He stands rigidly before me, his hands clasping and unclasping at his sides. A slight sheen of sweat clings to his brow as I lift the hem of my skirt to climb the four steps.
I hold out my hand to the man standing in position beside me and allow him to assist me up the steps. Although I am not wearing heels, it is always a bonus when I can get some help hefting a heavy dress and train. At the top step I turn to thank him and find his head already bowed.
I squeeze his arm in silent thanks and turn to face Toren. His eyes lower to meet mine though I can tell he is anxious to catch a glimpse of Aminah. “Don’t look so worried,” I whisper as I rise onto my toes to give him a hug. “You two were born for this moment.”
Toren offers me a smile as I lower to the ground and take up my place beside Zahra. I glance to my left and wink at Eamon and then return my gaze to the back of the room as Aminah enters. The music shifts once more and I recognize the Caldonian wedding march, slow and rhythmic, like a love song meant to last for hours. Hardly what I would call a march.
The women in the room inhale as they turn to see the stunning bride. Never before have I seen Aminah look so beautiful. Her pale skin is flushed with excitement, and her eyes are bright and focused solely on Toren. Her father stands at her side, tall and proud. His hand clasps over her hand, giving her the reassurance that she needs to take the long walk into her future.
I smile at Aminah’s parents, endlessly grateful for the new families that we have each been provided. Our adopted parents on Earth gave their lives for our survival, but here on Calisted our blood relatives remained, pining for our return. It had not surprised me in the least to find that Aminah’s gentle nature came from her birth mother.
With my gaze riveted on Aminah’s approach I hardly notice the man step back down the platform stairs to prepare to assist Aminah. I watch as she lifts her face and smiles as her father presses a farewell kiss on her forehead. She wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a hug then releases him and offers the assistant her hand.
When I look up from her to the man who holds his arm out for Aminah to grasp, I freeze. My fingers clamp down painfully on the rim of the basket. I can hear the woven strands creaking in protest but I don’t release my hold until the handle snaps off in my hand.
Kyan steps forward and grasps my arm, drawing me back. From the corner of my eye I noticed Aminah’s concerned glance and I know that I have not hidden my thoughts from her. I’m fine. Just a little overheated.
I can feel that she’s not buying my lie but at that moment Toren steps forward to take her hand and Aminah refocuses on her soon-to-be husband. I can feel pressure on my arm and realize that Kyan still has a hold of me. “I’m fine, Kyan. Nothing to worry about.”
His frown is already deeply placed when I turn to look at him. “We both know that isn’t true. I knew this was a bad idea.”
I watch his gaze shift beyond me and turn. The instant I stare into a pair of the most startling blue eyes I’ve ever glimpsed I feel an odd sensation. It begins at the crown of my head and falls over me like a gentle rain shower. My confusion diminishes but I am left with a sensation that something isn’t quite right.
“Feel better?” Kyan whispers in my ear.
In the near distance I can hear the priest begin the ceremony and nod. Yes, I am fine, aren’t I?
The remainder of the wedding runs smoothly and the moment Aminah and Toren kiss to seal their vow I find myself being drawn away. Kyan motions for Eamon to join me and he is instantly at my side.
“I’m afraid Illyria is a bit under the weather. Perhaps it would be best for her to return to your room and rest before the party.”
“No,” I protest, shaking my head. I offer him what I hope to be a convincing smile. “I feel fine now. Just a little woozy for a moment there. My mother warned me earlier about locking my knees but I must have forgotten.”
Eamon’s arm winds around my waist as I lean into him for support, realizing how good it feels to be in his arms. “I’ll keep a close eye on her, Kyan. Now you need to go see to your new bride.”
He jerks his chin in Zahra’s direction and I smirk at the obvious flush in Kyan’s ears. He clears his throat and nods, though he doesn’t leave my side without one last long glance. In the recesses of my mind I can feel him prodding against the walls that I have learned to keep erect. It’s not that I fear his inspection. I have just grown to enjoy my own privacy over the past few months. Some things are better not shared.
The party moves out onto the twilit palace grounds a short time later. Water fountains glow with a myriad of colors illuminated from within the bubbling waters. A large white tent has been erected and tables set out, each one lavishly adorned with platters spilling over with fresh fruits and steaming meats. My stomach growls as I take my place beside Eamon and Aminah and dig in.
As the moon begins to rise in the sky I push my plate aside, too full to eat another bite. Laughter and the murmur of voices fills the air. I sink back into my chair and smile at the people I call my own. My friends from Earth. Soldiers I have fought alongside. Parents we have reclaimed. Never before have I been surrounded by such love.
“It is a shame Alesta was unable to attend tonight,” Eamon says as he reaches for my hand, twining his fingers with mine. I nod, remembering how desperately sad my friend had been when she discovered that she would not be able to attend
. Freed from Aloysius’ service as my handmaid, Alesta has returned to her homeland. I suspect that she has a special guy waiting for her, though I have not pressed her on the issue. Now that she is free we have maintained a friendship, but I no longer allow her to be my servant. I will never again have a servant.
“She would have loved the sculptures.” Looking out over the garden I can’t help but admire the ice sculptures that Alesta’s brother Carleon arranged to have fashioned for the event. Apparently his blushing bride Anwen has a talent that no one thought to tell us about until just recently. I smile at the realization at how much all of us have changed. Each of us have found our true loves. We are starting out our new lives, treading into waters previously thought to be too perilous and now, sitting here among my friends, I know this is exactly how it was always meant to be.
“I’m sure Anwen will be more than happy to design more for Alesta’s wedding.”
I grin and tilt my head to the side, casting a glance at Carleon as he leans in to whisper in his wife’s ear. His hand is placed possessively on her swelling belly. The first child among us. “I have a feeling she is going to have her hands pretty full soon.”
Eamon raises our hands and presses mine to his lips. His gaze is gentle and filled with love. “That could be us someday.”
“It will be.” I turn to look up at him and feel warmth begin to seep into my cheeks. It never ceases to amaze me how Eamon can affect me so swiftly.
My attention is drawn away by the tinkling of glass. I turn to look at Kyan who stands on a raised platform, his glass and fork in hand. A hush falls over the space as Kyan clears his throat.
“I know many of you thought this day would never come. Most of all my lovely Zahra.” Ripples of laughter spread through the small group as she enthusiastically nods in agreement. “None of us would be here tonight without the prodding and support of one very special lady. Illyria, would you please stand?”
Flustered, I look to Eamon for support but he simply smiles and nods in encouragement. I rise and place my napkin beside my plate, feeling awkward to be put on the spot. “I would like to propose a toast. To Illyria, our queen and our friend. Without your help none of us would be here today.”
“To Illyria!”
I blush furiously at the rousing cry and following applause. I wave them off, feeling as if my cheeks have been set alight as I move to sit but stop short. There, in the shadows just beyond Kyan is the man I saw at the wedding.
His hair falls about his shoulder in waves of raven black, veiling the intensity of his eyes as the wind blows the find strands across his face. His jaw is set tight as his gaze roams the dining area. His hands are clasped at his back, his legs shoulder width apart. Ever the attentive soldier. His gaze sweeps back and the instant he settles on me I feel faint.
I know him! One glimpse at the wedding was not enough to confirm my suspicions but now I am sure of it. This is the man from my dreams. This is Bastien.
The sound of his name tumbles through my mind like waves crashing against a rocky shore. I feel torn and mended countless times in a mere second, aching and wounded and yet feeling oddly whole.
“Illyria?” I turn and blink, dazed to find Eamon standing up beside me. For a moment I am unsure of where I am. Slowly the haze in my mind clears and I can feel Eamon’s hands upon my arm. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, of course.” I smile and pat his arm. I can feel others watching me, sense their concern but when I glance beyond Eamon to the space where I saw the man I realize he has vanished.
I can tell Eamon is not convinced as he helps me settle back into my chair. I press my palm against my cheeks and realize that I have become flushed. “Perhaps I am not feeling well after all.”
With a snap of his fingers, Kyan sends three guards sprinting to my side. I wave them off, protesting that I am perfectly capable of walking, though Eamon insists on carrying me. I cast an apologetic glance over his shoulder at my friends, scolding myself for ruining their party.
As the tent fades into darkness behind us I lay my head against Eamon’s shoulder and allow my eyes to close. I know that I saw Bastien. I’m not imagining things. It truly is him. The only question is...who exactly is he?
FOUR
I rise before dawn, unwilling to continue tossing and turning. Eamon stirs beside me as I slip from the bed and plod into the bathroom, quietly sliding the door closed behind me. I lean over the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes are decidedly puffy this morning, ringed with lavender and lined at the corners. My lips seem paler than normal. My eyes dull. My cheeks are a bit flushed and my stomach churns, though I have yet to be ill.
“Wow. What a way to make a great first impression!”
Today is going to be filled with back to back meetings with delegates from the not-too-distant Raos province. This city is one of great wealth due to the mining towns that surround it. I had been scheduled to visit this grand city in person but Kyan refused to even consider letting me leave the palace while he was gone, so he arranged for the delegates to come here instead. They should be arriving in only a few short hours.
“Not enough time to turn this mess around,” I grumble and splash cold water on my face.
A night of restless slumber has left me off kilter and cranky. That doesn’t bode well for the day I have spread out before me.
Grabbing a towel from a shelf beside the basin, I rush through a quick wash and dress in a light pale blue linen dress. Gone are the see-through outfits that Aloysius once subjected me to. I have settled for a far more conservative, yet casual style of dress, allowing for the change in temperatures throughout the day and yet not so rigid as to feel suffocated by decorum.
I pull my hair around to the side of my head and begin methodically braiding, my thoughts lost to me. I know that I dreamt last night though I can’t remember exactly what I saw. Eamon woke me in the middle of the night and cradled me like a child as tears streamed down my cheeks. An overwhelming sense of loss struck me, though I can find no reason for it.
Looping a band about the ends of my hair, I toss my braid back over my shoulder and slide my feet into a pair of slippers. They feel cool against my feet, molding perfectly to the arch of my foot so that when I step I can nearly feel the texture of the tile beneath.
Eamon’s gentle snores continue as I slip from the room and out into the darkened hall. The flickering of candlelight glows in intervals before me as I walk down the familiar path. Though much of this palace still remains a mystery to me, the main halls and meeting rooms are all too familiar.
Moonlight spills in through the open windows, covered only with sheer lace that drapes from the ceiling above. It is a warm night. Too warm for my liking. I can already feel beads of sweat forming along my lower back.
As I turn at the end of the hall and glance toward the sweeping balcony that rests over the main entrance to the palace, I realize that I am not the only one awake at this early hour. I approach slowly, unsure of who it is that stands perched upon the ledge.
“It’s a long drop from there,” I say as I part the curtains. The man’s shoulders stiffen yet he does not show any other hint that my approach concerns him. “Would be a shame to ruin such a beautiful night with your death, don’t you think?”
The man’s continued silence disturbs me. I had at least expected a laugh at my attempt at humor. Even if what I say isn’t funny people generally humor me anyway just because I’m queen.
“Seriously,” I press and step closer, now wary of this man’s intentions. “Why don’t you come down from there and we can chat?”
“About what?” He asks without turning. His voice is deep and velvety. I like the way his words seem to curl at the end like a cat winding its tail about its owner’s leg possessively.
“I don’t know,” I admit. I step into the light of the moon and stare up at the man before me. He has broad shoulders and a tapered waist. I can see that the material of his uniform clings to his m
uscular legs. None of that matters when I spy his shoulder length hair. Instinctively I reach out and touch his leg, needing to reassure myself that this is not just another one of my dreams.
The man flinches and leaps backward, his body rotating in the air above me. He lands in a crouch, his face veiled by darkness but I can see his wariness as if he were standing beneath a noonday sun.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter and draw my hand back, realizing only now that it still hangs awkwardly in the air. “I meant no harm.”
He rises slowly but remains in the shadows. “Do you have a habit of touching strange men in the dark?”
Heat flushes into my cheeks at the not so subtle implication. “I’m a married woman.”
“Yet that didn’t stop you from grabbing me.”
My jaw hangs in open disbelief. “You can’t honestly believe that I meant to grope you.”
He shrugs and tilts his head to the side. Not being able to see the details of his face is infuriating. I cross my arms over my chest as my anger mounts. “How dare you insinuate that I would do such a thing!”
His deep chuckle catches me off guard. I like the way that sounds too. “Calm down, Illyria. I’m just playing with you.”
My shoulders clench and my hands press tightly at my sides. I can feel a slight tremor working up through my fingers. “Why do you use my name as if you know me?”
The man doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. For a moment that seems to stretch into eternity he simply stares at me. Then, with a surprising grace, he bows low. “My apologies, my queen. I should never have been so informal with you.”
I find myself nodding in agreement, for after all that should be the proper response, and yet the formality of it all seems odd. “See to it that my husband doesn’t hear you say such a thing or it will be your head he’s mounting on the wall.”
As the man steps into the moonlight I can’t help but realize how startlingly handsome he is, especially when he smirks. His hair seems longer than it should be, though I don’t know why I would think it should be any different.