I wake with a gasp, sitting upright in my strange bed in my strange room. I can’t breathe. I gasp quietly, shivering in my wool nightdress, clutching the covers to me. I run a hand through my hair, gulping down some air as my wide eyes search the room. Slowly…slowly, I relax and sigh, laying back down. I stare at the darkness above my bed in terror until my eyes close.
A knock. There is a quiet knock upon my door, and I know now why I had been roused from my slumber. It is just as well. I do not wish to linger in the realm of nightmares. Glancing to the window, I realize that it is not too terribly late. Gabriel might still be awake playing a late-night game with Kale or perhaps Claque. I retired early, my energy and health depleted.
The knocker raps again upon my door, and I stir myself from my bed and pull on my robe, going to the door and opening it quietly. I am surprised by the sight of Tam before me, standing there with his weight leaned on a cane and a rueful smile on his lips. “Tam!” I say, alarmed, and he grins at me.
“Ah hope I hadn’t waked ya, lady,” says he.
Ckai’ten looks around the door at me and smiles a bit. “I told him you would prefer to be awakened than not.”
“Hm,” I reply with a single nod. As tired as I am, I hate to sleep. “Come in,” I tell the Flora boy, but he hesitates at the door, looking uneasy about entering my room. I sigh. How do Crystalice ever hold comfortable conversation with so many societal requirements and conditions? Are women so terrifying to them that their men do not trust themselves alone? It is silly at best, grossly insulting at worst.
“Ckai’ten, will you provide escort for the boy?”
He laughs a bit and nods, ushering Tam in as I go and sit at the little table by the fire. The icy balcony doors have been boarded up at least, keeping out some of the chill. “What troubles you?” I ask him. The tea on my table is a bit cool by now, but it takes only a little Magik to heat it once more, and I empty the half-filled pot by filling two cups.
Tam sits across from me at the table, and Ckai’ten stands by the fire patiently, minding his own despite being in the room. “Well, ah…ah wanted ta be sure you was alright, miss.”
I smile faintly and reply, “I am fine. The burns will be gone soon. You look to be in far worse shape.”
He looks down at the tea uncertainly. “It’s no so bad. Just a twisted foot and some broke ribs. Ah’ll be fine.”
“Hm.” I sip my tea quietly, watching him over the rim of the cup. “That is not why you’ve come,” I tell him, but smile at his offended expression and add, “Although I do not question the sincerity of your concern.” He sighs and looks back down to his cup once more. “The nightmares?”
He nods slowly and finally raises the cup to his lips and drinks some. His eyes are heavy, like mine, but he fights sleep. I look down at the amber liquid in my porcelain cup for a long while, thinking quietly to myself. “I still have them…I still dream of war. When I close my eyes…it’s as though no time has passed and I am there in the field once more…”
He looks to me once more, hopeless. “I don question why I fight. I don want ta live under the Inferno rule. But…I am afraid. Every night…ah die again…is like I don even sleep anymoar.”
“I understand…” I tell him. I do not fear death when I am awake, but somehow, I still run in my dreams. But what I fear the most is those who have already died. Some by my own hand. “They will never stop…not completely.” I look back to him. “So you do what you can. Keep something by your bed, something that brings you comfort. So that when you wake, it is the first thing you see. It will not stop the nightmares, but…when you wake, it will keep you from lingering within them. It reminds you that you are home, that you are safe.”
He is quiet for some time and then says, “What is it… that brings you comfort?”
I give a lonely smile. “I have nothing left to me…but… at home…I slept with my husband’s shirt. I would wake up and smell him and know that I was alright. Sometimes…all you need is something to hold on to.”
He looks to me and stares into my golden eyes for too long, too young to hide the soul-broken agony inside of him. He has drowned for too long and no longer knows if he can swim again. Quietly, I offer, “Why…don’t you tell me your nightmares?”
Tam seems uncertain for a moment, looking back down to his cup. Then, he nods slowly. “Alright…”
I sleep heavily once Tam leaves until I feel something nudging me. I raise a heavy arm to swat at it and give an incoherent sound before I am roughly nudged again. I make another rude noise but finally come awake, turning over and opening my eyes to glare through a squint at whoever is trying to rouse me from my slumber. Petara and Dena stand by my side, Dena peering over Petara’s shoulder. “What?” I snarl, propped up on my elbows.
Petara sighs. “Ladies are not in the habit of sleeping through the morning.”
I roll onto my side, clinging to the covers. “Good thing I’m not a lady…” I mutter. Unseen hands give me no time to react when she grabs a fistful of my covers and yanks them off of me.
I shriek, curling up into a ball and bolting up at the same time, sitting up in my wool nightdress with the cotton chemise under it. “What is it!” Gabriel calls in alarm, appearing in the doorway in his shirt and breeches, looking like he was in the middle of getting up and dressed.
“Get out!” I scream at him, throwing a pillow at the door. He ducks his head and quickly leaves my sight.
I huff a heavy sigh and glare over at Petara. She smirks. “Good. You’re awake. Come then, let’s get you dressed. Scarlet, I believe that you have met your lady-in-waiting, Heather.”
I look over at the old woman who chuckles and holds onto my beloved blankets. “Heather, you fiend,” I accuse and glare at her.
“Och. Come nao, luv. Gedup and les get ya dressed. Come nao,” she calls and laughs, drawing me out of bed.
“Are all Cerulean this bossy?” I mutter as they drag me out of bed, another chemise being thrown over me, and this time adding a corset. Thankfully, they don’t lace the corset too tightly, but I do not enjoy the constriction to my chest.
“Only when Inferno girls don’t do as they are told,” Petara replies with an easy smile. “Stop fighting the corset, Scarlet. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“This thing is awful,” I cry, pulling at it and adjusting it unhappily.
“Well, you’re going to need to learn to wear one,” Petara replies, gesturing to the servants to bring in the hot tea.
“Why?” I growl angrily.
“Because,” Petara replies, sitting herself down with her round belly. “You will be attending a banquet, and you will have to learn to dance as the other Crystalice women do.”
“Stiffly and without breathing?” I ask when the thing is finally laced up, and Heather begins yanking a dress over my head.
“More or less,” she says, pouring herself and Dena some tea before sipping it casually. “Form is everything in Crystalice dance.”
“And in Inferno dance,” I reply, holding on to the edge of the bed while Heather laces up the back of my dress. “The ability of a dancer to move with the music and contort her body is crucial.”
Petara clears her throat. “Yes, well, in Crystalice, we prize composure and posture. If nothing else, the corset keeps you from slouching.” She then gives a patient smile. “You will only need to wear it during our dancing lessons. And you will get used to it, I promise.”
“I don’t want to get used to it,” I mutter irritably as I walk uneasily to the table and sit down stiffly. “I want it off.” Cats don’t like leashes.
“Don’t be so childish,” Petara says with a sigh. “Come and sip some hot tea. You’ll feel better.”
I pour a cup and sip it slowly, glad that today is a more informal, self-serving sort of day. I wonder if Gabriel said anything to his sister on the matter…I don’t care. I sip the tea, glad for its warmth, although I had to set the cup down when Heather began plaiting my hair. I sit there as she work
s, looking at Petara. “Anyways, what banquet am I attending?”
“Mine,” replies Petara with a grin. “Tomorrow, I will be on bed rest until the birth. And when my child is born, there will be a banquet to celebrate.”
“Fantastic,” I murmur with half-hearted enthusiasm. I am overjoyed for Petara, but this corset is going to be shredded soon. I sigh. “So we are not doing more tea lessons today?”
She smiles a bit. “No. We’re going to practice your dancing today. Crystalice dancing.”
And we do.
For five months, Petara and Dena and Heather attend me every day, teaching me the most ridiculous and unnecessary manners and etiquette. There are so many rules and customs for if you want to flirt with someone or just let them know that you enjoy their company without being too forward; and, of course, there are ways to let someone know that you want them out of your sight. All while keeping a smile on your face. All of them.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve found a way out. In the gardens. The wall is low enough that, in my tigress form, I can clear it. The banquet will be my distraction. It will be guarded, yes, but mostly inside. All I need to do is get away from my escort. It actually makes me a little bit sad…I was starting to look forward to the banquet. But I can’t stay here. I have to leave…
Gabriel will understand…I cannot stay here…Inferno is my home…
Chapter Thirty
Scarlet
Petara gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Bronx. I was allowed into the birthing room—men were not. I and Dena and Heather all stood by anxiously, letting Petara squeeze our hands, smoothing back her brow. I was forced to leave after a while though since they kept icing the room in order to keep it cold. I went and curled up on a chaise with Gabriel in Petara’s parlor. I received many strange looks, sitting by his side, but everyone was too anxious to speak. Gabriel put an arm around me and rubbed my arm, knowing that I was nervous and—I think—he appreciated my affection for his own anxiety.
Thankfully, Petara was up and bossing me around in under a week. She held her son in one arm and pointed at me with the other. “You’re turning too fast, Scarlet—did Dena not teach you this?” and “Scarlet, you’re smiling too wide. It’s too familiar. Tone it down some.” It was endless. But eventually, it pays off…
Or rather, we are out of time and hoping for the best.
Tonight is the night of the banquet. I spent the past several months waking up early for lessons which lasted until dinner, then eating a tense dinner with Gabriel’s immediate family, and then tea with the queen and princesses before reading a book the queen gifted to me well into the night whereupon I fell sound asleep. I hardly found any time for social relaxation in the month, and my head is so full of information that it feels like it is going to break.
All of the ladies decided that evening to get dressed and ready in the queen’s lavish dressing room. The queen is already dressed, and quite ornately; I wonder if it is ever irritating, since I am fairly certain that her spine is immobile from the corset around her waist. But I enjoy preparing for the banquet with the girls, the maidservants alternating between helping us dress and cooing over little Bronx who nestles happily into his grandmother’s arms.
As nervous as I am, and as angry as I am at the corset being cinched around my waist…I am excited. I am going home. “And just wait until you hear the music!” Dena exclaims. Dena taught me to dance usually only by the lute or harp. Tonight, there will be an entire orchestra.
I laugh and reply, “I am sure that it will be lovely.” Heather stuffs me into a few chemises and several petticoats, then my corset, a heavy dress, and all of it decorated with fine ribbons and golden chains. Beautiful, brilliant colors. My dress is gold, glittering and dark, accented with burgundy lace and thin, golden chains. It is just light enough so as not to draw too much attention, but it is dark and warm enough to suit my complexion, which seems to please my two trainers.
Petara sits back in her seat with her mother, smiling at the pair of us. She’s all dressed and letting her maidservant comb out her hair and plait it. Even barely a week from giving birth, Petara still sits up straight and keeps her chin up, an easy smile on her lips. She has taken to quizzing me every now and again through the afternoon on what I learned: “Now, after you twirl the second time and dip under the right arm you…” She trails off.
Past my hand covering my face, elbow on the arm of the chair, I mutter dryly, “Turn once, then back, curtsy, then take his left hand and begin again.”
“Good. Alright…that should be enough. Now, which one is the salad fork?” she asks.
“I hate salad,” I mutter, but then sigh and answer, “Second from the left.”
Petara nods. “Alright. We may go.” Dena just laughs and walks back to me, rubbing my brow where the lace from my glove had left an imprint on my head from leaning into my hand.
I smile and shake my head, looking over at Petara and saying, “Thank you for your help…I do appreciate it.”
“Oh, I know,” she says proudly, reclaiming her babe and cradling him. “If I had thought you did not, I would not have spent so much time training you for my banquet.”
The queen smiles and nods. “This is to celebrate Petara, but it is also for you, dearest. This will be the first time, Scarlet, that you have been to a civilized, social event. Everyone will be very interested in you. You carry not only Gabriel’s name, but you are also the first Inferno that they have ever seen outside of war.”
“It helps that you are pretty,” Dena remarks, smiling proudly.
I smile—uncertain—and I shake my head.
King Dante arrives first, walking into the room, and everyone bows. I hesitate, watching him while he walks in. Dante is an imposing man, and if it weren’t for his coloring, I would think him an Inferno. He’s at least six and a half feet tall with wide shoulders and a powerful chest. His face is haggard, but his jaw is strong and firm, pale, blue eyes hard and cold, surrounded by leathered, wrinkled skin. His eyes lock on me for a moment, and his jaw tightens, his eyes narrow.
I then remember my manners and curtsy low, but I never drop his gaze. I hadn’t meant to be insulting; perhaps it was a quiet challenge, perhaps mere curiosity. But Dante says nothing of it, moving to collect his queen when we rise. He offers his arm, and she gives a small, polite smile as he leaves with her. Kale and Claque follow after they leave, both going to their Senai with glad expressions. Well, Claque doesn’t really have an expression, but there are a few facial twitches which I am beginning to notice that give him away. There is a fuss again over Bronx, who enjoys all of the attention with happy gurgles and hiccups. I am distracted for a moment, turning away from them and going to the window. I watch the horizon, although there is no red strip of flame. But I pretend, if only for a moment, that just beyond where the sun touches the earth, my home is waiting for me.
I sigh, closing my eyes, touching my fingertips to the cold glass and taking steady breaths when my throat threatens to tighten on me. I feel a gentle hand on my hip, and I look up, turning my head back to see Gabriel. I smile and say, “Do you not know, Gabriel, that it is impolite to touch a female in public, even if the pair are married, unless during a dance?” I quote Petara, chastising him, “Perhaps you should spend a few weeks with her.”
He just smiles and answers, “Do you plan to harass me already, woman, before I have even said your name?”
I laugh, feeling my heart warm when I turn to face him. He is cold to the touch, and he radiates that frozen air in a way that makes me want to clasp my hands over my nose to warm it. But I smile at him, catching his blue eyes. “Then say my name, Gabriel,” I answer a bit provocatively.
He chuckles at my antics and reaches for a curled lock of crimson and amber, bringing it to his lips and murmuring, “Cara…”
I stare at him for a long moment, but when he looks back to me and smirks, I give a little cry and shove his chest. He laughs, and I try not to smile, berating him, “Gabriel, you fiend! You
should be ashamed.” Gabriel…this will be the last night I see you…
He laughs at me. The others sigh and shake their heads and pray for a miracle tonight. He grins up at me and says, “Shame me all you like, Cara, but we are going to be late.”
I shake my head at him, hands on my hips, and sigh. He offers his arm with a playful smirk, and I glare up at him, trying not to smile as I take his arm and let him lead me down the hall and a flight of stairs to the ballroom. The king and queen are already seated at the far end of the white marble table, and Gabriel and I arrive just as Dena and Claque take their seats.
I go still for a moment as almost every eye of probably six hundred guests now turns on me. Gabriel must feel my unease, for he bends his lips to my ear and whispers, “I told you that we would be late.”
I cut him a look and growl, “I am going to stomp your foot if you insist on teasing me.”
“You do not weigh enough,” he challenges, but he leads me to our seat just to be sure. Once we sit and the meal is blessed, things relax a bit more. Despite the earlier silence, Crystalice are fairly conversational people.
I am less inclined than the others to jump into conversation, however. We are forced to take our traditional seats, with Gabriel at his father’s right, I beside him. His mother is across from him, and Petara’s husband, Kale, is across from me. Beside me is Claque and beside him, Dena. Petara is across from them with Bronx. And so this leaves me in the middle of a three-way conversation between Gabriel and his two brothers-in-law.
“I keep telling you,” Kale insists, gesturing with his fork to the other two, “The Levosa keep to smaller numbers and have weaker physical capabilities. If the Flora were to attack from under the mountains and corner them in the valley, they would be defenseless.”
I tense a bit at the conversation, but before I can open my mouth, Claque chimes up, “Yes, but how could you corner them in the valley? It’s a very obvious trick. Surely they would avoid such a thing.”
A Heart of Ice Page 19