Desia shook her head and turned away. “Jasi shouldn’t have to.”
“Lira won’t…” she began, and lowered her voice when one of the guards near the door glanced over at her. “Lira won’t let me join your classes. She said I had to find my flower first.”
“But you’ve found your flower. Now you need to join class.”
Eris sighed and looked around. First she had to argue with Jasi about this and now Desia? When would Ferisa join in? It shouldn’t surprise her they would team up like this against her, but it still disappointed her. And hurt a little. With as much time as they spent together in lessons, they had the chance to bond. Not Eris. Always the outsider. Always so different than the others.
“Well?” Desia whispered. “Don’t you want to join us?”
“I will when Lira says I can. Until then, I’ve been told I need to learn all I can about my flower.”
Desia frowned at her, and Eris stepped away, letting Desia’s brown-haired handmaiden step between them. She hurriedly began fussing with Desia’s dress, smoothing the fabric and laying out the pleats. The handmaiden even applied a dusting of powder on Desia’s face. Eris had to admit it made Desia look even lovelier.
A crimson robe appeared near the door. Adrick. He glanced at each of them before looking away dismissively. The guard nodded to Ferisa, a wide smile splitting his face, and she started in. Her handmaiden trailed behind her, gripping the back of her dress so Ferisa didn’t have to. Desia shot Eris a look before she followed, as if admonishing her to behave while in the throne room. Eris just smiled serenely, unwilling to give Desia the satisfaction of a response. When it was her turn to enter, Eris paused at the doorway before going in.
As often as she’d seen it, the throne room was still majestic. Walls of white granite stretched from the polished stone floor toward the ceiling high overhead. Massive tapestries lined the walls, each decorated with the faces of the kings who came before. Windows arranged around the top let light stream in and caught motes of dust suspended in the air. Two hearths at opposite ends blazed with crackling flames. Lanterns set into sconces gave off more light.
Near the back of the room, high over the throne, hung a painting different than the others, meant to depict the Sacred Mother. Eris noted how Ferisa nodded at it and placed her hand to her lips before looking at their father. Eris just glanced at it before making her way after her sisters, dress bunched in her hands so it didn’t drag on the floor.
Her father sat at the end of the room atop the great rivenswood throne. Next to him, in a smaller seat, sat her mother. Dressed regally in the formal colors of the kingdom, navy and green, she eyed each of the princesses as they approached. A smile spread across her mouth as she looked at Ferisa and then Desia. When she saw Eris, the smile faded. She shook her head slightly until Eris dropped her hands to her sides, letting her dress drag across the stones.
Where was Jasi? Eris was surprised that her sister wasn’t here. Other than Adrick standing behind her father, no one else was present.
What was this?
Eris turned to the hurried sound of boots across the stone. Jacen made his way toward the throne. A long sword hung at his waist. His long golden hair hung damp and was pushed back behind his head, tied with a simple throng of leather. He wore dark navy pants and a forest green jacket.
“Sorry I’m late, Father. Finishing preparation for the—”
Their father waved him off as Jacen took a place beside him. Her father looked at each daughter in turn. When he got to Eris, his deep brown eyes lingered. “We asked you here today as we make an announcement. As you know, your sister Jasi has been particular in choosing a suitor. Over the last few days, we’ve been host to Prince Petra. Jasi met with him, and I am pleased to announce she’s agreed to wed him. All that remains is meeting his parents. I am told they are to arrive soon?” He glanced over to Adrick.
Eris hadn’t known her sister had been particular in choosing a suitor, but shouldn’t have been terribly surprised. Wedding the eldest took precedence over the others. Next would come Desia, and then Eris.
Their mother leaned forward on the throne. Her face seemed tenser than usual, the lines around her eyes more strained. “You are to support your sister over the coming weeks.” She gave Eris a pointed glance. How much had Lira told her? “And you will do your best to welcome our guests.”
“Where are they from?” Eris asked. If Adrick had encouraged the arrangement, she wondered where Petra came from. Did the way her mother looked mean she didn’t agree with the arrangement?
Desia looked over and frowned.
Eris shot her a look. “What? I think that’s a reasonable question. If she’s marrying this Prince Petra, we should know more about him.”
“Honestly, Eris,” Desia said, exacerbation was thick in her voice. “It’s almost as if you don’t live in the palace.”
Jacen leaned toward Eris. “He’s the eldest son of King Danis, ruler of Saffra.”
Their father nodded. “And a union between our realm and Saffra will bring great stability for many years. This is especially important given recent unrest with Varden.” He glanced at Adrick.
“That is quite correct, my lord.” Adrick tilted his head slightly, enough to show the top of his balding head. Not nearly as much as he should bow before the king, but her father took no affront.
Eris tried to think of what she knew about Saffra. Desert land far to the south, beyond the Verilain Plains. From what she remembered, reaching Saffra meant a difficult journey.
“How will this help with Varden?” Eris asked. “It’s not as if they can send troops or—”
Adrick frowned at her. “There are many benefits for your kingdom. Errasn feels frequent threats from the north. As the High Seat of the Conclave sits in Saffra, you will find greater protection.”
Eris knew she shouldn’t say anything more. Especially with the way her mother looked at her, but she couldn’t help herself. “And Jasi wants this?”
A warmth crossed her father’s face. “Your concern for your sister is appreciated, Eris, but Jasi welcomes the union. In a few moments, we will meet the King and Queen of Saffra. They will be greeted as honored guests and will remain with us until the ceremony concludes.”
She looked over to where Adrick stood, leaning over her father’s shoulder and whispering into his ear. Then he stood. The magi‘s leathery face suddenly tensed, blooms of color coming to his cheek. He frowned for a moment, flat eyes going distant, before smiling a thin smile and looking over at her father. “They will be here momentarily.”
Her father tapped the arm of the throne. The dark band encircling his middle finger thumped softly as he did. “Excellent. You will welcome them?”
A flicker of annoyance passed across Adrick’s face, almost too fast to be seen. He tipped his head. “Of course, my lord.” He made his way to the entry, glancing at the flowers woven into Desia’s dress and pursing his lips, before turning toward the doors.
They said nothing. Their father motioned them to the side of the throne. Ferisa was the first to follow instructions, her handmaiden guiding her alongside their mother’s seat, giving enough space for Desia and Eris to stand between. Desia moved with precise grace to take her place alongside their mother. Normally, Jasi would stand there, but this ceremony changed everything.
The doors to the throne room opened. Adrick bowed deeply—much deeper than he did for her father, Eris noticed—welcoming the King and Queen of Saffra inside as he stood.
Their clothing looked nothing like anything Eris had ever seen. The king wore a crisp white jacket made of a flowing fabric. Red lines were woven or embroidered into it, sweeping up his sleeves and around the neckline. Pants nearly the same color as Adrick’s robe flared up from dark boots. A sweep of fabric swirled around his deeply tanned face. A curved sword hung at his waist.
Eris frowned, surprised her father would let any into the throne room armed. Custom maintained they would not. She glanced at her father, but he seemed not to mind
.
The Queen of Saffra had dark, black hair and olive skin. A series of stones—pale blue and yellow—were fixed to each cheek. A crimson scarf wrapped around her neck. She wore a simple dress of pure white which matched the king.
Adrick followed behind them. Another crimson-robed man walked next to him, barely a step behind. A magi, Eris decided, and probably the king’s advisor. She glanced at the king’s hand, looking for a dark band like her father wore, and found it on his left hand. A marker of the Conclave. Adrick had one for each finger.
Following behind Adrick came Jasi. Dressed in a heavy gown of purple silk, she kept a tight smile affixed to her face. Her golden hair was carefully swirled on her head. A striped perusal was pinned to her dress. A handmaiden scurried behind her, ducking low as she came.
A young-looking man walked next to her. He had olive skin like the queen. Dressed much the same as the king, the only difference was the lack of red stitching through his shirt. He kept his black eyes fixed straight ahead as he made his way toward the throne, but every so often they flicked toward Jasi.
Eris realized she’d seen him in the palace over the last few days. With his white clothing, she’d thought him another servant.
A tall woman, slender and wearing a plain white dress similar to the Queen of Saffra’s, followed after Jasi. She had black hair hanging in loose curls to her mid-back. Black eyes searched the room as she made her way toward the throne. A single, pale blue stone stuck to her forehead.
When they nearly reached the throne, Lira swept into the room. Her eyes scanned the room as she hurried toward them. She wore a deep green dress and her chestnut hair hung loose around her shoulders. A weave of flowers hung around her neck like a necklace. Lira took a place directly behind Desia, standing near enough to their mother to whisper into her ear.
Adrick’s cheeks tensed as he looked at Lira. Then he took his place behind their father.
Eris’s parents stood and bowed to the King and Queen of Saffra. The gesture was returned in kind. “Welcome to Errasn and Eliara,” her father said. “May the Sacred Mother grant you comfort and shade.”
The King of Saffra met her father’s eyes. “Your welcome is most appreciated. We have traveled a great distance to be here. Your southern hills and the…what do you call them?...Verilain Plains were particularly difficult to traverse. Quite different than the wide expanses of Saffra.” He looked around, eyes touching on each of the tapestries hanging around the throne room. “Greener.” He said the word distastefully and turned to look at her father. “Petra tells us you have treated him well?”
Her father looked to where the prince stood. Two paces separated him from Jasi, an appropriate distance. She met his eyes and nodded.
“You have raised a respectable young man. Jasi seems most taken by him.”
“We had a few moments to speak with her following our arrival. I admit my hesitation. Usually the Sons of Saffra wed Daughters of the Sand. That should take nothing away from your child. She is a lovely young woman,” the king said. He turned and looked at Jasi, appraising her as he might a horse. “But Saffra is a different place than your Errasn.” He looked away from Jasi and over to his son. The prince nodded once, never looking over to Jasi. “Still, I have been convinced there is merit in the joining of our lands.”
“And if this goes well…” her father began, glancing to the woman standing behind the queen.
Eris realized this must be the Princess of Saffra. She looked to Jacen and was surprised to see him staring at her with more attention than she expected. Usually women of the kingdom chased him, hoping for a chance to marry the prince. Instead, they might see his bed, but little else. If he wasn’t her brother, she might be more upset by his behavior.
The King of Saffra tilted his head enough to look at the princess. “She is a Daughter of the Sand.”
Her father waited. When the King of Saffra said nothing more, he went on. “We have prepared the west wing of the palace for you. Feel free to consider it home. We will feast tonight, and then we can begin the arrangements for the ceremony.”
The King of Saffra nodded. “Our custom requires that it be carried out on the eve of a full moon. It is said to bring prosperity and a healthy child.”
Had they not been standing in the throne room, Eris would have laughed at her sister’s reaction. Her eyes widened slightly, and she gripped the silk of her dress before unclenching her fingers. Perhaps Jasi was not completely convinced the wedding was the right thing for her.
Her father glanced at Adrick, who only nodded. They whispered something. Eris heard her father say, “that is two weeks away,” before Adrick said something to sooth him.
“You think it wise to rush a ceremony?” Lira asked.
Adrick glanced over, his lips pursed as he shot her a strange look. The King of Saffra studied the Mistress of Flowers. Lira paid him no attention, focusing instead on the queen sitting on the throne.
“Two weeks is not much time to make the proper preparations. The Sacred Mother knows we don’t want to rush anything or we might—”
“Certainly you can get your decorations ready in two weeks?” Adrick asked.
Lira looked from the magi to Eris’s father. He sat watching them, a curious expression on his face. Eris’s mother set her hand on his arm, and he smiled.
“The decorations will be ready. As you are not from this land, you may not know there are other preparations required by the Sacred Mother before a wedding. Some take much time.”
Adrick’s mouth twisted in a dark frown, but he said nothing, only leaned forward and whispered into her father’s ear again. Her father nodded a few times before looking up at Lira.
“Could both customs be accommodated?”
The King of Saffra looked from Lira to Eris’s father. Before nodding, his eyes searched over the throne and met Adrick’s. The magi’s face tightened, and then he looked toward the stone floor. Lira studied them both, saying nothing.
A sense of tension built in the room. Eris’s mother broke it, nodding toward the Queen of Saffra. “I’m certain the two mothers can find a way to ensure our customs are accommodated.”
The Queen of Saffra glanced at Adrick before looking toward Eris’s mother and nodding.
Eris stood watching, wondering why they needed to rush. Another thought troubled her just as much. Two weeks until Jasi was married. Desia would be next. And after that…Eris looked at the floor, suddenly worried what her father might have planned for her.
Chapter 6
Eris sat at the long oak table in the palace library, a small lamp flickering behind her and lighting the large leather-bound book propped open in front of her, as she searched for some reference to the teary star. Thoughts of her sister kept intruding.
Jasi seemed completely wrapped up in preparations for the wedding to the point where she didn’t notice anything else. Eris could not believe how much there was to prepare. Between Lira scurrying all over the garden preparing arrangements, to Eris’s mother speaking with the Priestesses of the Sacred Mother—and more than once dragging Eris along with her—to whatever the Saffra delegation did to get ready, there seemed so much pomp.
Having the flower to focus on at least gave Eris something to do. And a place to escape. This way, her mother didn’t notice her. No one did, really, though it wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way.
But the flower proved difficult to discover anything more about than she’d already learned. After she failed to show Master Nels where she’d found the flower, he refused to speak more of it. He seemed to think she’d played some sort of prank and began to ignore her altogether. Even when she returned to the garden the next day to search, he set one of his assistants to monitor her—the same brown-haired man who’d helped her from the ledge—but Nels almost pointedly ignored her. Eris did not know whether to be hurt or amused.
The day after the Saffra delegation arrived, Eris spent nearly all morning wandering along the wall, looking for signs of the tear
y star vine. Mostly, she hadn’t wanted to watch Jacen leave. He was the only person who ever seemed happy to see her, and now he was leaving. She’d watched from atop the north tower as the company of men all lined up and prepared to depart, her father saying words to them too quiet for her to hear from where she stood. And then Lira did something Eris found strange, sneaking behind Jacen’s mount and slipping what appeared to be a small flower arrangement into Jacen’s saddlebag.
So far, Eris’s search had been pointless. All she found were more hopis plants. That afternoon, she’d tried looking in other parts of the garden. With something particular in mind, it became easier to focus her search, but so far she’d come up empty. The next few days had gone no better. Eventually, she abandoned searching the garden.
She turned to the next place she could think of—the library. The palace had an expansive collection, and the elderly Master of Books had been more than happy to show her around the library.
“Can you show me where you keep your books on flowers?” she asked.
Billiken, the Master of Books, shook his head. He had a wild shock of white hair and a face covered in wrinkles. “There are many books on flowers in our collection,” he said, sweeping his hands along rows of shelves.
Some shelves stretched as high as the ceiling arching high overhead. Ladders ran along the lengths of shelves, giving access to the highest rows. The library had no windows. Light came from small lanterns. The air held a distinctly musty odor.
“Is there a particular book you seek?” He led her down the rows, the thick carved cane he carried tapping along the ground as he went, before he stopped before a tall shelf only slightly less dusty than others. Most of the spines were old and of various sizes, tall and short, thick and thin. A few even had lettering worked into the leather.
Billiken stepped closer to her and leaned on his thin cane, looking at her through filmy spectacles. He wore a shirt nearly as musty as the library itself. The pale lantern light made his face look ruddy.
The Lost Garden: The Complete Series Page 5