The Affiliate (Ascension Book 1)
Page 14
Cyrene sagged with relief. “Thank the Creator.”
“You have had a long night. The Royal Guard will escort you back to the interior of the castle. Congratulations once again. It is great to have you as one among us.”
Cyrene dipped a deep curtsy before walking past the royalty, toward the opposite entrance from which she’d come. As much as she’d sworn that she would never tell about the things she had seen, she would not soon forget the bitter taste of reassignment, the deep ache of losing a lover, the crushing blow at the loss of a child, or the Oath of Acceptance to a king she did not trust or believe in.
“What in the Creator’s name are you still doing in bed?” Maelia demanded.
Cyrene opened her eyes. “Why are you in my bedchamber?”
“I’ve been knocking at your door for fifteen minutes. Just because you walked with the King in the gardens doesn’t mean that you can sleep through our study time.”
“What time is it?” Cyrene groaned.
“Half past noon!”
Cyrene threw the covers off of her, aghast. “I can’t believe that I was still asleep.”
“Me either. Get dressed, and let’s go down to the pavilion to work. It’s beautiful out today.”
“I just had a dreadful night.”
Maelia raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean? We walked back to the Vines together.”
Cyrene conspiratorially glanced around the room. “I know I can’t talk about what happened, but I passed.”
“Oh. Oh! Wasn’t it horrible?” Maelia asked. “I had nightmares for weeks.”
“Yes, it was horrible and emotionally draining, but nothing as bad as the warrior ceremony,” Cyrene admitted.
“Really? I thought King Edric had put a stop to the warrior ceremony.”
“Yes, well, he wasn’t happy when he found out.”
“I’d think not after he’d given a direct order,” Maelia said. “What happened to you? I was locked in the highest tower overnight and left to wonder if anyone was going to let me out.”
Cyrene recounted her story about the underground lake to Maelia and watched her gradually grow paler.
“I’ve never heard of a warrior ceremony so gruesome. Did you tell Queen Kaliana what happened?” Maelia asked.
Cyrene laughed. “I would never bring anything to the Queen that I did not have to.”
Maelia colored and looked down at her feet.
“I’m sorry, Maelia. I know how you feel about authority, but the Queen hates me. I would rather be in your shoes, working for the Consort.”
Maelia appeared flustered and changed the subject. “We’ll get nothing done if we sit here and talk all day. Come on. You have packages waiting for you.”
“Packages?” Cyrene asked, her eyes alight.
Cyrene grabbed her dressing gown and pulled it over her head before rushing out of her bedchamber like a child on the morning of the Eos holiday. She walked past the table in her sitting room, cluttered with notes and papers from Affiliate Lorne’s research, to the entrance table. The smaller package on top had no note or signature, and she moved it over to examine the second one, which was signed by Lady Cauthorn. Cyrene tore open the brown paper, revealing seven dresses, three in red, two in blue, and two in gray. She was still waiting on the ball gown and couldn’t wait to get her hands on it.
After leaving the gowns carefully folded on the table for the servants to hang in her wardrobe, Cyrene returned to the smaller package. Her eyes gazed upon the nondescript wrapping. Coming up blank, she eased the paper back and gasped.
Inside laid a hooded cloak made of the finest crimson velvet and lined with white ermine. Her hands splayed across the brilliant fabric before tenderly pulling it from the wrapping. The cloak fell in folds to the ground, and Cyrene threw it over her shoulders. It was simply gorgeous and seemed to ripple and move with her. She tied the red leather ribbon in the front where a gold leaf hung at the end of each cord.
“That is gorgeous. Did you commission that from Lady Cauthorn?” Maelia asked.
Cyrene shook her head. “No. I have no idea who sent it. It had no note.”
Maelia ran her hand down the smooth material. “Whoever sent it has good taste.”
“Indeed,” Cyrene agreed. She wondered who her mysterious benefactor could be, but she couldn’t think of anyone who would have sent her something this exquisite. She wondered if it was because she had passed the Rose Garden test. It was the only explanation that made sense to her. “Let me change, and then we can go study.”
Cyrene slipped into a cream lace gown with a tight bust and a free-flowing skirt, and then she draped the exquisite cloak over it. With her work tucked under her arm, she hurried out of the chambers with Maelia.
The girls settled their work down inside a stone gazebo surrounded by hundreds of flowers blooming in the summer sun, next to an easy-moving creek. Maelia was busy researching herbal treatments while Cyrene stared at Affiliate Lorne’s life’s work. The woman had researched every region, every environment, and practically every species of plant in the known world.
Cyrene had spent hours working on a chart system that showed specific agricultural plants and how they grew based on region, climate, and various other properties. Then, she had supplemented that list with a note on whether or not she thought the plants would grow in Byern and how to implement a plan for new crop rotations. The burdensome report to the Queen was becoming almost too long.
Cyrene and Maelia had been working in the gazebo for a couple of hours when they heard voices approaching. Jardana rounded the corner of a large hedge with her three lackeys, and they started walking toward Cyrene and Maelia.
Jardana stood at the center of the group. She wore a sky-blue corset dress that made her look emaciated. Her waxen blonde hair was styled in a severe bun on the top of her head, the same fashion as the Queen. The girl on her right nearly towered over the other women. She had stick-straight light-brown hair hanging to her waist and a snub-nosed face with beady little eyes. A pudgy short girl with dirty-blonde hair and a round face with an open demeanor scurried her little feet double time to keep up with her companions.
The only thing Cyrene could make out about the girl behind them was her untamed strawberry-blonde locks. Cyrene’s eyes narrowed at the color. She had seen a girl with strawberry-blonde hair at her warrior ceremony. This woman must be the masked Leif.
As if feeling Cyrene’s eyes upon them, Jardana halted their progress and smiled up at her. “We did not mean to disturb you,” she said with a high-pitched voice and a wicked smile.
“No bother,” Cyrene said with the warmest smile she could muster.
She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed the similarity before. Jardana had been the masked Braj. She doubted this woman was quite as dangerous, but with ambition, there was always danger, and Cyrene could tell Jardana had ambition in spades.
She wanted to know these girls and why they had performed the ceremony against the King’s orders. “Would you care to join us?” Cyrene asked.
The two girls on either side of the Braj looked startled, and both glanced toward Jardana.
“We’d be delighted. Wouldn’t we, girls?”
Cyrene cleared away her work and put it back in its leather folder as the girls took seats on the other benches. She didn’t care that the warrior ceremony had just been a prank. She wanted retribution for the hell they had put her through.
“I’m not certain we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Cyrene. This is my friend Maelia.”
“Nice to see you all again,” Maelia said.
As expected, the Braj spoke up first, “Pleasure to see you both. I am Jardana, and this is Nyasha.” She gestured to the taller woman who reminded Cyrene of the peacock.
“Cheala,” Jardana said, pointing out the short woman, likely the dwarf.
“And Adelas.”
The Leif.
“Well, I’m very pleased to meet all of you. Will you be accompanying the King on the proce
ssion to Albion?” Cyrene asked. “Maelia and I were both offered invitations.”
Jardana sat up straighter on the bench with a self-importance and arrogance that could rival the Queen. “Of course we’re attending the procession. We’re to be on the Queen’s own vessel as I am the assistant to the DIA.”
“The Queen does not travel with His Majesty?” Cyrene asked, widening her eyes with innocence.
She knew the answer, having seen the King travel for the procession to Albion down the Keylani River her entire life. She even remembered when King Maltrier used to travel. The men always preferred the company of their consorts to their queens.
Jardana kept a forced smile on her face. “Consort Daufina has been offered the privilege of riding alongside His Majesty for this procession.”
“But Prince Kael has decided to accompany the Queen,” Adelas said.
Jardana’s eyes snapped to Adelas and struck her with a fierce glare.
“That’s wonderful,” Cyrene cried, pretending not to notice Jardana’s glower. “I know how much Her Majesty favors him.”
“Yes, it is,” Jardana responded slowly.
“Prince Kael is so very charming,” Cyrene said.
She pushed her luck. Maelia looked at her in confusion, but Cyrene just smiled back at her, silently begging her friend to play along. Maelia’s eyes widened in understanding.
“And attractive,” Maelia said with a giggle.
“Very,” Adelas agreed.
Jardana seemed to be warring with herself. “Do you know where you will be stationed?”
“Surely, with your newly acquired Affiliate status, you will be placed on one of the smaller ships with other Affiliates,” Nyasha offered, her eyes gleaming.
“Oh, surely,” Cyrene agreed good-naturedly. “As long as Prince Kael doesn’t request I be moved.”
“And why would he do that?” Jardana asked. Her high voice was as tight as a whip about to crack.
“Now, I trust you ladies,” she said, “so I know you will speak of this to no one. Prince Kael has requested I call him by his given name…as if we’re equals.”
Nyasha, Cheala, and Adelas slowly turned and peered at Jardana. She seemed to be boiling over, ready to combust at any moment. Maelia covered her mouth with her hand.
“How wonderful,” Jardana snapped.
Just then, Cyrene noticed a figure walking toward them on the grass path she had taken this morning. The four other women turned around when they noticed her looking.
A smile spread across Cyrene’s features. She had never been more pleased to see the Prince. An image of a crown on his head popped into her mind, and she had to remember that it had just been a dream, a reality that would never occur.
Even from the distance, he was devilishly handsome. His Dremylon green silk shirt fit perfectly on his muscled chest. Muddy brown leather riding boots reached the knees of his chestnut-brown pants. His hair, which was a bit too long for royal custom, was tousled, and his cheeks were flushed, like he had recently been on horseback.
Jardana and her friends preened as he walked slowly up the steps into the gazebo.
“Ladies.” Prince Kael swept them a deep bow.
“Prince Kael,” Cyrene said with a heady flirtatious smile and hooded eyes. “So nice of you to join us.”
To the Prince’s credit, he didn’t even skip a beat. “It is always a pleasure to spend time with such beautiful women.”
“You flatter us,” Jardana murmured, her high-pitched voice straining.
“You give me much to flatter,” he said. His blue-gray eyes met each woman before returning to Cyrene. She could see the questions in his expression, but he was too much of a skilled courtier to speak of any of them. “I’ve never seen so many attractive women congregated in one place.”
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Jardana asked hastily.
“Consort Daufina has requested an audience with Affiliate Cyrene,” he announced as if the news would not strike a chord with the entire group.
Cyrene always wanted a proper audience with the Consort, and the other girls were as devoted to the Queen as Cyrene was against her.
“Really?” Cyrene breathed.
He inclined his head in the affirmative. “I was out hunting with the King and Consort. When we returned, I offered to come and find Cyrene myself as I knew she liked to study in the gardens.”
“Well, thank the Creator you are so well acquainted with Cyrene’s whereabouts,” Jardana murmured under tightly veiled anger. “The girls and I were just leaving anyway. Weren’t we, girls?”
The girls tripped over themselves to rise and agree with Jardana.
“I was about to leave as well. Consort Daufina paired me with a member of the High Order, and I am to meet him shortly,” Maelia said.
When Cyrene met her gaze, Maelia winked. Cyrene would have laughed at Maelia’s made-up excuse to leave, thinking Cyrene wanted to be alone with Kael, but in actuality, it was the last thing she wanted.
“Until next time, Cyrene,” Jardana said. She waggled her fingers at Cyrene and turned to Prince Kael. “Your Highness.” She dipped a low formal curtsy and then stalked out of the gazebo with her entourage hot on her tail.
Cyrene’s false smile fell away as the girls disappeared around the corner, and she was left with Prince Kael.
“Do you wish for me to accompany you?” the Prince asked, providing his arm for support.
Cyrene retrieved her leather folder and tucked it under her arm. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“And here I thought you had a change of heart. Court has transformed you since that first night. It appears you can play the game well enough now,” he remarked snidely.
“I’m nothing like you.”
“On the contrary, I think you played that even better than I would have.” His face clouded with desire.
“You are sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Cyrene accused.
He laughed and reached out for her slim waist. She dodged his approach, rushed past him out of the gazebos, navigating the gardens with him hot on her heels.
“What gives you that idea?” he called out to her.
“You’re vile.”
The Prince yanked on her elbow, pulling her to a standstill. “You’re so feisty, Cyrene,” he said with a soft chuckle.
Still holding on to her elbow, he forcefully pulled her against him. She gasped and glared up into his blue-gray eyes as she tried to wiggle free from his tight embrace.
“Tell me why I should not be with her. Is it because you secretly harbor a desire for me? Is it because you long for me to return to your chambers?”
“Never,” she snarled.
“Then, why did you speak my name at the Ring of Gardens?”
Cyrene froze. “I am to speak of that to no one.”
“You said my name when you left the dreams. I was there. I heard you cry out. Was I there in your future?”
“You will never know,” she snapped. She placed her free palm on his chest and shoved away. “Now, leave me alone.” She stalked away from him, continuing through the gardens.
Kael followed behind her, ignoring her request. “Come now, Cyrene. You can’t avoid me forever.”
He caught up to her again and latched on to her cloak billowing out behind her. The tug stopped her in her tracks once again.
She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not avoiding you. I have somewhere to be.”
He ran his fingers over the soft material. “Where did you get this?”
Cyrene pulled it out of his grasp. “It was a gift.”
“From whom?” he asked.
“I assumed it was a present for completing the tests.” She hadn’t even spoken that thought aloud to Maelia, and now, she was telling the Prince of all people. The man could get under her skin.
Prince Kael barked out a short derisive laugh, but his face looked anything but happy. “Presents are not given for completing the
Ring of Gardens.”
Cyrene absorbed the information. She knew that she had been grasping, but she had wanted to brush aside the expensive gift as nothing more than a present for her accomplishments. She didn’t want to read into what Prince Kael’s eyes were suggesting.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, pulling the cloak out of his hands. That wasn’t the truth though. If the gift wasn’t for completing the tests, then she could only imagine a few people who had access to such rich material.
No. I’m not thinking about that at all.
Cyrene glared at him one more time and then started to walk away. She didn’t want to have this conversation anyway.
“I wouldn’t let Kaliana see you in that,” he called after her. His laughter followed her out of the gardens.
Prince Kael put her on edge.
Now, she had thoughts swirling through her mind about her mysterious cloak. She had waited for this moment her whole life, and now, she couldn’t even concentrate on the fact that she had been summoned to speak with the Consort.
Cyrene reached the room where the Consort conducted her business. The noise and hectic behavior of the Queen’s rooms were replaced with laughter and the strumming of a harp. Only a select few Affiliates and members of the High Order lounged within the rectangular hall. It was a communal place of educational advancement, deep philosophical discussion, and entertainment that resulted in enlightened attainment.
An elaborately painted mural covered every inch of wall space from floor to ceiling. It was as if she were entering a forest with hundreds of trees, gorgeous green undergrowth, and birds in the brightest colors imaginable. A panther stalked the forest floor on one side. Dozens of monkeys swung on the branches high above their heads.
Candles floated around the otherwise dim room, illuminating the atmosphere. A tiered fountain produced the faint sound of water trickling from the canopy. Affiliates rested on forest-green settees, and countless pillows that resembled a pebble-bottom river ran through the moss-blanketed room.