The Forbidden Fruit

by S. K Munt

  I hated my reflection. To me, I was one person and the girl in the looking glass was another entirely. She was the one who got me into strife and led me to temptation, and because I’d taken to avoiding her as much as possible, she never failed to surprise me with some new development, and that day, it was my eyes that were bugging the hell out of me. Once upon a time, they’d been a washed out blue- like the colour of thin clouds in a darkening sky, but they weren’t so much blue anymore as periwinkle, and not so much washed-out as they were almost startlingly bright. Not neon, like the Barachiel twins were, but… well, the hue seemed to shout for a colour that was rightfully a pastel, and because my skin was still more of a golden shade than pearl as it had once been, they stood out all the more.

  And they weren’t one solid colour either. They reminded me of what a new can of paint had looked like when my father had pried off the lid to paint my sister’s bedroom walls, so many years before. The base had been off-white but as he stirred it, blues and hints of lilac and even a slight green had begun to swirl across the surface, and when he’d finished he’d been left with flat lavender. Similarly, my eyes were uneven in tone- like they required further stirring to be ‘done.’ They weren’t unattractive, per se, but they were distractingly odd and for me, off-putting. After all, ugly Larkin had never had a problem meeting her own gaze. Pretty Larkin, on the other hand, had been raising hell, and now the guilt-ridden girl beneath the facade couldn’t stand to look at who she’d become.

  After about twenty minutes and forty furtive glances, claustrophobia from being plastered to the sink and stared at began to overwhelm me, so by the time I got the final roller in, I practically ran out of the bathroom and away from the wicked girl with the weird eyes. Humming softly to cheer myself up, I shook the ill-feelings off and slipped into the dress, and when the time came for me to look in the full-length mirror, I was grateful that I had such a large bedroom because that allowed me the chance to stand on the other side of the room to my reflection and squint out my face easily enough to check that everything was everywhere that it ought to be without having to get to close to the emerging swan who had killed off Kohén’s duckling.

  The dress was too sexy for my taste, but lovely all the same and I felt a bit of a thrill when I got a look at how it complimented me. Instead of the usual one shoulder deal, it had a silk halter, which was attached to a faux golden choker-collar of golden pyrite flowers, (identical to the shoulder catch and belts we wore on our togas), which latched behind my neck, leaving my back bare to almost my hips, but concealing my cleavage completely. That should have been a fair trade, except the satin was cut like an hourglass- skirting along the edge of my breasts, then scooping in to gather narrowly at my navel, leaving my obliques bare, before flaring out gently low on my hips and closing around me in line with my tailbone. The only thing that held the skimpy silk in place on my torso at all was yet another golden clasp which fit like a belt and it too had textured flowers carved more thickly at the front, creating a very pretty effect that thankfully, would not cause me to break out in hives because it was just gold-painted steel, like I was used to.

  The waist clasp was attached to the fabric of the dress in the front, but encircled the bare skin of my back like a slender cuff, leaving a few inches of bare skin beneath it as well to my tailbone. It was daring- far more daring than our toga and I had to laugh when I remembered that this was the ‘autumn’ Companion dress worn by Eden’s harem dwellers in the name of warmth. Ha! Yes the skirt felt all the way to the ground, and the fabric was gathered enough to conceal the fact that this dress had a split just like the others, but my arms were barer than usual without a hint of a sleeve and from behind, I looked naked save for the gold band!

  But there was nothing to be done for it- for better or worse, I had a new dress and it covered what it usually didn’t so I just had to pray that my breasts stayed within the silk boundaries. Besides, Maryah had sworn to us that the gowns had cloaks to match and if that was true, then I wouldn’t have to worry about getting a chest cold from behind.

  I had golden boots to wear with the dress and they were by far the most striking shoes I had ever worn without being torturously high, so I got into them eagerly. They were made like Roman sandals- created by a series of leather bands which clung to my calves in rings attached to a crossbar which went straight up my shin, but each band was lined with sheepskin on the inside which really did make me feel warmer from the moment that I’d slipped just one on. How cozy those boots were! It made me wish that I’d grown up in the north, like Asiana or New Rome, where I would have been able to wear sheepskin year-round instead of silk, silk, silk.

  Maybe that’s what you need to consider? Living in the icy part of this country isn’t possible because it’s perennially frozen up there, but why not move to Asiana or New Rome, if you ever get the chance? You never feel the cold like others… it could be nice! You could raise sheep instead of cotton, and wear such things every day!

  Oh dear, you’re not making plans again are you, little bird? Have you learned nothing at all?

  When both boots were in place and I’d pulled the golden thong provided to us all on beneath, I was almost done. Someone knocked on my door and hollered that it was time to go, and I squealed a little, ducked in front of the mirror again, and- ignoring the eyes and the odd look of the curlers in my hair- I assessed myself to be presentable and slightly more Egyptian-looking than usual (we usually emoted a Roman style), and nothing further- not even wicked.

  I turned away from the mirror straight away and, feeling anxious for being late to get ready for anything for the first time since the ball, I began to bat the curlers out of my hair like an impatient cat. They clunked to the floor one by one, making a huge mess and because that was not something that I ever did, I forwent doing anything further with my hair in favour of scooping up every loose belonging strewn about the room, and then dumped the lot in the laundry hamper in my bathroom before swiping all of the make-up back into the make-up drawer. My room still felt untidy to me, but someone knocked again so I yelled out that I was coming and began to finger-comb the curls around my waist, which were far too coiled for my liking, and then picked up a single pin from my bathroom counter, and the feather I’d slept with in my hand, and pinned the feather behind my ear.

  No one was in the hall waiting for me so I went straight through the harem and out the north wing door, pausing in the alcove again and flipping my hair over to shake the curls out a little more, while holding the feather and pin in place.

  ‘We meet again,’ I said to Miguel’s stone-cold head, regarding him upside down as I tousled the coils loose. ‘I know it’s probably a long shot trying to get a bit of flattery out of you, with your skin as smooth and clear as marble- but tell me honestly, how do I look?’

  ‘Stop flirting with my ancestors, and then stand up so I can see- and maybe you’ll get lucky with a bit of flattery out of me.’

  I almost jumped out of my skin, but Kohén’s voice got me upright and when I was, the look on his face told me a lot more than the girl in the mirror had revealed. Like lightning in a midnight sky, his navy eyes flashed neon, stealing my breath, and then suddenly, I was up against the cold marble wall and his mouth was slanting across mine, hot soft, desperate and just… perfect.

  I should have fought the kiss off but I could not- not just because I was legally not allowed to (and for once actually scared that I would be held accountable for turning down my new, unpredictable master) but because it was Kohén and our stolen kisses had become a fixture in my existence that I’d come to depend on, regardless of how sporadically they came- a release for my pent up and policed hormones. My internal temperature spiked so sharply that I needed that cold wall against my back to keep me from melting on the inside and I panted into his mouth, recycling his sweet, minty breath as my own and when he moaned and stepped into me further, my heart faltered.

  Then he was pulling away and storming off. ‘You look fine,’ he said
coldly, and only the slightest crack in his voice implied that he meant anything other than just that. ‘But you’re late, so come on.’

  My temperature dropped at the click of his fingers and I stayed right where I was, defiantly staring him down from behind as he sauntered off with an arrogant gait. I respected his desire to be taken more seriously by his underlings, but if I allowed him to treat me like a dog, I would become his pet and I could not allow that to happen. So I blew out a breath, put my hands on my hips like I was preparing myself to run a marathon and waited for enough time to lapse for him to understand that I was coming on my terms, not his.

  The sound of his footfalls suddenly grew louder again and I withered on the inside, staring straight ahead at the harem door and bracing myself to feel a cuff behind my head, or to have an eardrum ruptured by a screaming fit. But then I was in his arms with his face buried in my neck.

  ‘I’m sorry…’ he whispered, and I melted into him this time. ‘The way I feel when I look at you always knocks me for a six, and I have been keeping my eyes to the floor, hoping to avoid that, so to see you today- so radiant!’ He squeezed me tighter and moaned, then released me, caught my hand and yanked me after him. ‘For the record, I kissed you because your static charge drew me in like clinging lint, and officially- I have not looked at you with love or lust in my eyes, understood? That was just… confusion, okay? I’ve never seen you with curls before, and so I thought you were an angel for a moment there.’

  ‘Wow,’ I said, squeezing his hand and smiling, ‘we really have lost touch, for you to be so deceived!’ I shook my finger at him. ‘And for the record- if you ever do cross paths with a pure angel, it’s polite to keep your tongue out of her mouth until after introductions have been made.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Kohén looked back at me and grinned, and I was struck by the fact that my lost little boy had truly become a man. He was wearing a black shirt with the cuffs rolled up to just above his elbows, black leather pants which hugged his backside and long legs, and though the fact that he was wearing a sword in a scabbard as Karol had taken to doing should have turned me off, he wore it well. And he clearly knew it too, because his youthful, eager gait had become a sensual swagger. My eyes must have strayed in one place for too long, because he chuckled and said: ‘Lilac...this is going to be a wonderful day!’

  ‘What?’ I asked, blinking.

  ‘Your eyes... when they go lilac… I get kisses.’

  ‘My eyes change like yours?’ I asked, surprised.

  ‘More like a mood ring,’ he nodded as he walked on. ‘Mine are bright blue when I am me, flash neon when my power overwhelms me and fade when I’m calm and go black when I am lost to myself… but yours shift through hues according to every mood, and because you’re such a moody little thing, the shade is almost constantly in motion.’ He pulled me closer to him and slung his arm over my shoulder, smiling down at me. ‘When they’re a pale lavender, you are content, but want to be alone with your thoughts. When they’re a dark twilight blue, I get tears, and when they’re violet, I get the hell out of your way.’ I laughed and he touched my nose. ‘When they’re periwinkle, you’re excitable and I could get kissed, cussed at, thrown out the door and then begged for forgiveness, all in the space of a few minutes, and that’s the colour they usually are- and it’s my favourite…’ he touched my lower lip and smiled. ‘But I know you are mine when they are lilac, because they only ever change to that colour for me, and usually because we have just kissed or because we are about to.’

  ‘Oh.’ I looked down, moved that he had taken the time to catalogue something about myself that I hadn’t even known. I cleared my throat. ‘Well… that’s…’

  Kohén kissed the top of my head and whispered: ‘Why do you think I fight for you, even when you are screaming at me to give up?’ I shook my head. ‘Because when you are at your angriest with me, they’re bright lilac, Larkin- and I know that you are begging me to prove that I will love you, no matter what.’

  I hugged myself, wondering what colour they were when I looked at Kohl, and wondering if he’d noticed.

  ‘Blue,’ Kohén whispered, and I looked up, startled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Last night, they were dark blue, so I let you run away.’ He released me and squeezed my hand. ‘I’m sorry that the sight of her and I together upset you Larkin, and I wish you had stayed to hear Atticus out despite that. We have big plans for you, including the island that has recently been declared habitable aga-’

  ‘You cannot have plans for me, your highness,’ I said softly, hugging myself still. ‘The colour of my eyes may change constantly, but I meant what I said in that room in Pacifica, or at least- I mean it after what I saw you doing with them. And as my eyes are always some shade of purple- my future will remain some shade of black until it is mine to paint otherwise.’ He narrowed his eyes at me to communicate his exasperation but I did not intend to hold in a truth ever again. What was good for one Barachiel twin, was good for the other! ‘It may sound boring or sad to you but black is safe. Black can’t be ruined. Black is already nothing and cannot be darkened further.’ I looked at him. ‘If you love me, as you claim, let me keep that blackness, and stop trying to stain my future gold, or you will never again see me look at you from eyes that are any colour, but violet or blue.’

  Kohén exhaled heavily as we walked into the throne room, but he nodded and took my hand again. ‘I heard what you said in Pacifica, Larkin, and I understand why you said it.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘Just as I understand that we cannot hope to right the wrongs between us for years.’ He looked down at me. ‘But as I can’t stain your future gold, you cannot prevent me from staining mine white gold for you, understood?’

  ‘You may end up with blackness if you do,’ I whispered.

  ‘That is the risk I am willing to take,’ he said seriously. ‘And I feel safe in doing so.’

  ‘How could possibly feel safe in investing anything in me?’ I asked him, looking up at him and wondering if he was unhinged. ‘I am unpredictable, moody, a dreamer a-’

  ‘Because your eyes are still lilac,’ he leaned down and stroked my lips with his once more before tugging me along to meet the rest of the group. ‘And I plan on keeping them that way- even if I have to wear this outfit every day for the next four years!’

  I laughed, rolled my eyes- but followed. We were crossing the floor under the glass Eden sky, and not even Kohl’s brief and wistful glance our way, could change the fact that despite how wrong I had always felt inside my body or how conflicted I was within my heart- I’d never felt more right than with Kohén’s hand in mine.

  28.

  The streets of Arcadia were full even at such an early hour, and I felt the excitement in the air infiltrate my system with each popcorn-scented breath that I inhaled, as we rolled out of Eden’s gates and toward the central Common. Kohl had seemed distant since I’d first walked into the throne room clasping Kohén’s hand, but he managed to chat pleasantly enough with Emmerly since then, despite his obvious dismay. When he said something to tease her about something docile she had said the night before, she responded by whipping off his dustman cap and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. He’d cut his hair exactly like Kohén’s since I’d seen him the evening before.

  ‘Barachiel see, Barachiel do?’ I asked, trying to hide my shock because for the first time in my life they truly looked identical. I glanced from one to the other, waiting for Kohén to give his brother hell, but Kohén reached over and slapped his brother’s knee.

  ‘Barachiel command, actually,’ Kohén said, and then smiled at me. ‘It was mother’s idea. We have to pose for a family portrait this afternoon and she wants one where Kohl and I look alike for once now that half of his face doesn’t have to be painted on.’

  ‘Do I look prissy?’ Kohl asked me, making a self-conscious expression as he patted his hair. ‘I feel like I look more like the princess that my mother always wanted, than the prince.’

&
nbsp; ‘Because your long hair was so masculine?’ Emmerly teased, and I laughed, though it had been uber-masculine and we both knew it.

  ‘You look incredibly dashing and tough,’ Kohén assured him and Kohl laughed. ‘And almost as good as me.’

  ‘Almost? Pfft…husk a coconut with your bare hands, and then tell me how tough fencing makes you feel.’

  ‘Oh get over it you guys- you’re identical. Honestly…’ Emmerly rolled her eyes at me. ‘Aren’t we supposed to be the shallow ones?’

  ‘It was mentioned in the guidelines…’ I said, and everyone laughed. Then I smiled at Kohl and twisted the ring on my finger, unable to help but let a little flirtation escape. ‘And no, you don’t look prissy. You look every bit as handsome- and royally pampered as this one does.’

  ‘Thank you Larkin,’ he said, his cheeks red. ‘You look…well, there are no words... not the sort that won’t get me banished, anyway.’

  I blushed right back.

  ‘Speaking of the royal treatment…’ Kohén nodded out the window of the carriage as it slowed to a stop at the edge of the central common. ‘There are a lot of fine looking young girls out there today who would die to be invited to the ball as your date, you know... so you don’t spend the night hanging off the only poor girl in Arcadia who you can form a sentence around?’ Kohén nudged me. ‘Right, Lark?’