by K.N. Lee
Elise’s brows furrowed, but she gave a nod. “You have my word.”
A secret?
She couldn’t wait to learn whatever it was. Life in the castle could be boring, and on this night, she would finally be allowed to leave its stone walls to venture out into the land of freedom and activity.
With one last glance at herself in the mirror, she touched her face and looked into her own eyes.
For a moment, she hardly recognized herself.
Mera had braided her hair into a new style, and it gave her a regal flair she wasn’t used to seeing. Intertwined into her raven hair was a string of pearls. She ran her fingertip across the smooth surface and widened her eyes.
I can be pretty, it seems.
Most days, she was content with tangles and wild tresses as she trudged through the castle grounds in her boots and riding coat.
But, that evening, she almost looked like a princess.
She frowned, and closed her eyes.
But, I’m not a princess.
I am a bastard.
Illegitimate.
She fought the bitterness that became to rise in her throat and left her room before she could face herself once again.
The corridor was empty, and as she walked toward her mother’s room, she heard the faint sound of sobs.
Her heart broke as she walked closer, and stood before her mother’s door.
She reached for the knob, and paused before touching it.
Instead of disturbing her, she stepped away, and covered her mouth. She stifled a cry of her own, deeply affected by the very sound or notion that her mother was unhappy.
Sadness was thick in the air, and it had been for as long as Elise could remember.
Her hands balled into fists as she stared at the closed door and listened to her mother weep.
She would rip that sadness away from her mother. It was her mission.
Chapter Three
“We’ve arrived,” Seyena said, and the doors to the carriage were held open.
“Already?” Elise said, yawning. She’d fallen asleep during the long ride through the countryside, and awakened to the roar of activity in the bustling city. She stretched, and rolled her neck.
A chill ran through her as they left the warmth of the carriage to stand on the stone streets of the central marketplace. Snow flurries flew in, and landed on her nose and lips.
She licked the cold crystals away, and smiled.
The crowds were thick, and vibrant with palpable excitement for what was the longest night of the year. She wished she’d been able to bring Princess Polly along. Her little pig did well being carried in a basket with a blanket, but animals weren’t allowed in the temples.
The central square was shaped like a diamond, with alleys and streets jutting out into different parts of the city. This was as close to the Temple of the Rising Sun that the carriage had any hopes of reaching. Hordes of people made the pilgrimage to the temple each winter solstice to ask for blessings, pay homage to their ancestors, or to connect with the gods.
Elise always looked forward to it, for it was the only time she was allowed to leave the castle grounds.
She breathed in the cool air and pulled her evergreen woolen cloak tight across her shoulders. Many carried colored fans, or held candles in their hands as they poured into the streets from all directions.
Awe filled her as she gazed upon the tall buildings made of stone, and the cobblestone streets that stretched from one end of the walled city, to the other.
The crackling of bonfires set in stone pyres rang throughout the city. People warmed themselves around the fires, smiling, and laughing as the guards patrolled on horses adorned with red and green cloaks draped over their backs.
To be around so many people should have left her wary, but such a congregation made her feel cozy. Excitement rushed through her veins, and her eyes wandered to those of handsome young men, and the pretty girls who wore their best gowns for the festivities.
The smell of fresh acorn muffins wafted through the air, and her stomach grumbled as she remembered just how hungry the journey had made her.
Tonight, they’d feast on muffins and spiced cider, soup made of winter fruit, cakes, and roasted pig.
“Keep close,” Mother said, and reached for her hand. “You don’t want to get lost in the crowd.”
Elise nodded, and walked by her side. A swarm of people moved in as they stepped through the thoroughfare. Throughout her entire life, she and her mother and grandmother had been afforded servants, but guards were scarce, and she never saw the need for them.
However, as she and her mother walked amongst the common-folk, she couldn’t help but notice an increased number of stares and whispers.
Each direction she turned, she met the critical gaze of another, and as she searched the crowds, she was certain they were looking at her and her mother. Looks of joy turned fowl as they walked by.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” she whispered to her mother.
Seyena gave her a sidelong glance. “Ignore them,” she said.
“Why?” Elise asked, lifting a brow. She didn’t like her mother’s tone—it was knowing, and held a warning. “You know something, don’t you?”
Sighing, Seyena looked ahead. “The king has made a new decree.”
Her stomach churned. Whatever it was, it had to be something dreadful. Nonetheless, she risked the next question.
“What was the decree?”
Instead of replying, Seyena stopped and turned to her. The bright moon shone onto them, as did the dim torchlights that lined the alleyways. Her brows furrowed as she took Elise by the shoulders, and sighed.
They shared the same faded blue eyes, but there was something more in her mother’s on that evening.
“You know how those born with magic are to be sent to The Vale for training under the tutelage of the elves?”
Elise nodded. Everyone knew about that.
“Well,” she continued, lowering her voice. “Your father has decided to cease all contact with The Vale. He has made a decree to instead send those with magic to special temples he has built in remote areas of Giran.”
Frowning, Elise looked around them. People were certainly staring, and their whispers reached her ears. “Why would he do that?”
Seyena tilted her head. “Think about it, dear. Your father is a wizard, and he is king. What would you do if you didn’t want any competition?”
Elise knew where her mother was going with that question. She now knew why those people looked to them with disdain, and it sickened her. The king was going to either use those with magic, or kill them.
“I would encourage magic to grow in our world,” she answered. “I’d send them to The Vale as part of tradition.”
That brought a smile to Seyena’s face, though it was a sad one.
“Of course, you would, Elise. But, you are not your father, and he is not a man of kindness, love, or mercy.”
She nodded, and they continued on to the Citadel. As she walked at her mother’s side, she pitied those who were born with magic. She never thought she’d fear for them, for magic was a divine gift.
Now, it was a curse.
They hurried to the Temple of the Rising Sun, and by the time they made it, the air was thick with tension. For once, she wished they did have armored guards to protect them.
Her mother gave her hand a squeeze. “Do not fear, Elise. You are with me, and I will always protect you.”
That brought comfort to her as they stood at the entrance of the tilted temple.
Built in the time when the gods walked amongst mortals, it was a true marvel of architecture and design.
Its ceiling was where a side wall would usually be, and faced where the sun would rise each morning. With shining, silver outer walls, it reflected the light of the moon. At the entrance stood gatekeepers, cloaked in white robes, with amulets shaped like the sun hanging from their necks.
She and her mother entered, and
bowed their heads to the gatekeepers. The old men nodded and kissed their fingertips before placing them to Elise’s forehead.
They did the same to each person who entered, and did what was known as Breathing the Kiss of Aden onto them as they bowed.
The Kiss of Aden flooded Elise’s veins, leaving her cool and light. Inside the temple, the walls were tall, and an echo of boots and footsteps resounded all around.
Candles were set on shelves that lined the row that led into the ceremony room.
Elise left her mother’s side to spin around in the golden dust that floated in the air of the temple. It was highlighted by the candles and torchlight, resembling pixies in a dance through the sky.
When the singing began, her mother led her inside where everyone knelt on the slick floor to pay homage to their ancestors.
On this evening, Elise wanted to do more than that. As she and Seyena found a spot on the floor, she bowed her head, let the soft sound of singing flow through her, and whispered a prayer.
“I pray to you, gods of Aden. Please change my father’s heart. Make him a good man, and forgive him of his sins.”
When she opened her eyes, she turned to see her mother staring at her, tears running down her cheeks.
She wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in.
“Elise,” she said, sobbing. “This world doesn’t deserve you.”
She wasn’t sure she understood what her mother meant, but she held on, and willed her prayer to be heard.
As she did so, a forceful wind blew in from the tilted ceiling.
A hush filled the room as it wiped out every flame from the torches and candles.
Silence settled around them, and Elise was left cold as she looked upward as the sashes that had hung from the rafters shuddering and flew.
Tensing, her eyes widened.
For a second, she was certain it took shape—and clung to a translucent image of a man.
Her heart raced, and before she could blink, all wind was sucked back outside, the candles found their flame, and the sounds of the temple returned.
She reached for her mother’s hand and looked to her with frightened eyes.
“Did you see that?” Elise asked, shaking.
Seyena nodded. “I did,” she said. “We were just in the presence of one of the old gods.”
Chapter Four
After worship in the temple, Elise and Seyena visited old friends for the solstice feast.
A short walk through the crowded streets led them to a grand manor with tall windows adorned with garlands of pine. Each was lit with a single candle that warm both beautiful and welcoming.
They stood before the large red door with crows for knockers, and Elise’s mother knocked.
The Cravens of House Crow were distant cousins to Elise’s grandfather, a wise lord who had died before she had been born.
They lived in the city, where five great houses faced one another around the arboretum and gardens.
Greeted warmly, they entered, shrugged off their cloaks and handed them to the butler.
While her mother drank tea with Lord and Lady Craven, she stood in the outer corridor examining the portraits and artwork done by the master painter simply known around the entire realm as Sky.
She traced the grooves of the paint that made up a river scene, and swore she could feel the artist’s joy beneath her fingertips. To travel the realm and paint such beauty would be a dream.
The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs broke her from her thoughts.
She turned and smiled at her dear friend, Lady Nevah.
She wore a red gown that matched her scarlet hair. It hung in waves that reached the small of her back, and seemed to glint beneath the chandelier in the corridor.
Lady Nevah returned Elise’s smile, and reached for her as she came to the last stair.
“My dear girl,” she said, and hugged Elise, keeping her a few inches from her body. She gave her a pat on the back, and clasped her hands before her.
“How I’ve missed you, Nevah,” Elise said. It had been two years since they’d last seen each other, as the previous year, Nevah had been away.
Her long nails caught Elise’s attention. So clean and well kept. She hid her own by folding her hands behind her.
“I’m pleased that you and your mother were able to make it. It has been far too long.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Elise said.
“Good,” she said, nodding. “And, how have you been?”
“Quite well. My ball is soon. Will you be there?”
She tilted her head. “And that, I wouldn’t miss for the world.”
“Fantastic,” Elise said, beaming. “You will have to come early and help me make my dress.”
“You do not have a dressmaker, dear?” The dismay in her eyes made Elise flush with embarrassment.
She chewed her bottom lip, and shook her head. “Father has cut our monthly allowance. Grandmama has been making and mending my gowns and stockings for the past year.”
Frowning, Nevah walked toward the archway that led into the sitting room. “How can a king as wealthy as your father be such a miser?”
She shrugged, sighing.
“Because, I am unimportant,” she said, under her breath.
Nevah heard her. She spun around and looked to Elise with a frown on her beautiful face. To see the thin brows furrowed, made her look away in shame.
“You are far from unimportant,” Nevah said, firmly. “And, he knows it.”
“Elise, dear,” Seyena called. “Come along.”
She gave Elise another hug, and they joined her mother and Lord and Lady Craven.
Thomas shared Nevah’s red hair. As siblings, they shared many similarities; dark eyes, slim stature, and pale skin. His wife, Laurel, however had bright blonde hair that she wore up in a knot with tiny tendrils spilling out of the golden comb that held it all together.
Nonetheless, they shared the same friendly disposition and ushered her forward for a taste of spiced, mulled cider.
Elise took a mug and inhaled the scent of apples and cinnamon. She took a sip and groaned with pleasure.
“This is delicious,” she said, licking her lips before taking another hearty gulp.
Her stomach growled, and it was as if they’d heard, for the butler announced dinner shortly thereafter.
She didn’t hesitate to follow him to the dining room where the long table was set for the Cravens, Elise and her mother, Nevah, and four empty seats.
She looked to her mother, raising a questioning brow. As she did so, the sound of knocking silenced everyone’s chatter. They all stood at their place settings and turned to see who had arrived.
Her mother took her by the hand and gave it a little squeeze.
As new voices filled the house, she quickly understood why.
Through the archway came two tall young men, and an older man with white hair and a long beard, and a middle-aged man who wore a thin mustache over his even thinner lips.
Face hot with surprise, Elise knew her eyes had widened a bit too wide. She quickly tried to regain her composure, but blurted his name before she could stop herself.
“Tolwin,” she said, and snapped her mouth shut.
He didn’t smile, but nodded to her in acknowledgement. She stared at him—his golden hair that was worn short and curly, his green eyes that matched the pine trees of the forest, and pristine red cape secured to his white waistcoat by a shimmering brooch. He removed his sword and scabbard, and handed it to the butler before raking a hand through his hair and exhaling.
“Hope we didn’t hold you all up. We were caught in the snow. It’s getting quite thick out there,” he said.
Lord Craven shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, your highness. We are pleased you could make it to our humble house.”
“May I introduce, Prince Tolwin, Prince Edward, Lord Henry Talbot, and Ocurus Deter of Temple of the Forgotten Sons,” the butler announced, and bow
ed, and walked backward until he was out of sight of the prince, as was customary for royalty.
She looked to the Ocurus, surprised that a real mage would be joining them for dinner. Was he to be sent to the temples as her father had ordered? An Ocurus or Ocura were the top of the hierarchy for mages. Perhaps, they were excluded from the decree.
They took their places at the table, and once the prince was seated, everyone else sat in their chairs.
Her nerves took over, and she found herself shaking as she placed the white cloth across her lap. She now wished she had a finer gown, elaborate jewels to adorn her neck like Lady Nevah and perhaps golden hair like the beauties of Arundell where Tolwin lived.
Though he sat to her left, at the end of the table, he barely paid her any mind or gave her a second glance. His brother sat across from her, and when she caught his gaze, she was certain he looked at her as if she smelled off or had rubbish in her hair.
As the night went on, she began to wonder why he agreed to attend her ball if he had no plans of being kind to her. The hours passed, and her hopes of a match faded until nothing.
With no appetite, and anxiety that made her sound like an illiterate fool every time someone asked her a question, or tried to include her in the conversation, she was ready to retreat for bed, and leave as soon as morning arrived.
It wasn’t until everyone left the dining table, and headed to the drawing room for wine or tea that a spark of hope ignited in her heart.
She paused to let him walk ahead of her through the archway, and as everyone exited the dining hall, he finally turned to her.
“You look lovely tonight,” he said, and she blushed.
“Thank you,” she said, meeting his eyes.
And, that was it. He gave a slight nod, as if he’d done his duty in speaking to her, and left her alone with her thoughts and confusion.
Men, she thought with exasperation. Wiping her brow of sweat, she headed up to the guest room where she and her mother would share a bed for the night.