AshesAndBlood

by Katie Zaber

  “He bans knowledge?” That must be where he keeps information on world traveling. Troves of wisdom confiscated from the world, but for what reason? “What about the Umbuttah and Syreni? Why did they attend and how involved are they in Fae politics?”

  “They are representatives from their governments to watch and witness your introduction. Three separate governments check and balance each other. One to rule the sky, the sea, and the soil.”

  He didn’t mention what humans or Druids rule. “Tell me about the Umbuttah and Syreni?”

  “Umbuttah fly, Syreni swim. Umbuttah live in the Ka’Pamau Islands and in the Selva jungles. Syreni live deep in the ocean. They keep the locations of their cities a mystery to us air breathers.”

  “But they were on land. How can the Syreni breathe?”

  “They last a short time out of water before they have trouble breathing. Some can last a couple of hours but need to drink saltwater constantly. Syreni keep many secrets. Never trust one. They trade knowledge as currency. Umbuttah are people of the sky. They can fly for hours, hiding above the clouds, with impeccable eyesight. They make incredible assassins with their bows and darts. They aren’t the ones you should fear. Meloda, your aunt, and her sons pose the most potential risk.”

  “Mek was supposed to inherit the throne before me, correct?”

  “Yes. I’m sure his mother wasn’t pleased. However, she could be satisfied with marriage. The reason she asked you to lunch, I assume, is that she wants to find out who you are and if you’re good enough for her son.”

  “What? No! Absolutely not.”

  He doesn’t understand my revulsion, why I’m gagging. “Royalty marry inside the family to keep the bloodlines pure. They never marry their own siblings, but usually a cousin or second cousin to limit the risk of disease. If you were raised here, you’d already be married and wouldn’t think twice. I’m sure your father has already started to plan your wedding.”

  “No. Not happening. My mom isn’t royalty. I don’t want to get married. Never have.”

  “You need to have children in order for the succession to continue.”

  “That’s disgusting! I’m not having kids with my cousin. That will never happen. When I take over, I’ll restore order and peace to the kingdom. Create some type of democracy where everyone elects officials from their region and they decide what’s best for their citizens. Those officials will meet for the common good of everyone. Officials will get elected and retire every couple of years to ensure equality. That way, nobody wields too much power.”

  He thinks about it for a moment, then laughs. “I like the idea, but it won’t work. The person wielding the most magic has the most power. Some share that opinion, but it’s not everyone.”

  “Are all the people my father rules over happy?”

  “No. Only a few.”

  “How many citizens are poor or malnourished? One thing I know is the poor outnumber the rich, always. Yes, they may not have the strongest bloodlines, but given enough courage and rage, they can achieve remarkable feats. Don’t underestimate people. You never know what someone is capable of when pushed to the brink.”

  His metallic silver eyes shimmer gunmetal blue from the lanterns lighting the room. He’s thinking before he speaks, thinking long and hard. “Wrong ears would call that treason. Be careful how you speak. Many share the same beliefs, but there is no collective voice. If you speak out against your father, he will kill you.”

  “What will you report to your king?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. You can tell him or not. I don’t care if he kills me. I don’t know why I care. Maybe it was Kilyn. How much pain he causes children, and I’ve only seen one kid so far. Hell, she’s probably one of the lucky ones. However, if dead, I don’t have to care. I’m not suicidal, but it’s easier than fighting for a cause that means nothing to me and helps no one I love. I’ve been taken from my home, imprisoned, and forced into a life I don’t want. Death sounds better than navigating this clusterfuck.”

  He steps back, his eyes locked on me, his brow wrinkles, he shakes his head and stares hard. He places a hand on my arm. “How can you not care?”

  “Care for what? This kingdom or the people in it? It’s not mine and not my home. Why should I care about any of it?” I ask, as harshly as possible.

  Anger fades from his face as his muscles relax. A slow a smile replaces his frown. He knows I’m toying with him, provoking him on purpose. It will be impossible to lie to him. As soon as I spoke with his hand on me, he knew the truth.

  He tilts his head. “You are like your father, more than you know, but maybe smarter.”

  “Don’t say that. I was beginning to like you.”

  He laughs. “You will fit in with your family.” His eyes linger a second longer before he walks to the main door leading to the hallway.

  I’m unsure if I should take that as a compliment. “Where are you going?”

  “To sleep.”

  “Who will protect me?”

  “My room is next to yours. I’ll sense danger. Goodnight,” he says without turning back.

  He leaves me alone to contemplate what lunch will be like tomorrow with my power-hungry aunt. Why couldn’t the explorer ask me to lunch?

  I had told Kilyn not to stay up, that I wouldn’t require any help to get ready for bed. I’m glad she listened. The poor kid needs rest.

  Standing in front of the sink, I turn on the hot water and begin to wash away the makeup. I can’t help thinking about Sarah, Ciara, and Dana. They’d envy hot running water—I wish I could share. Maybe when they arrive at a large coastal city, they will secure housing with plumbing. I hope they’re safe. Kevin must have made a plan after they took me. It’s better not to know where they are; it keeps them safe. If only they knew my dead father, the king, brought me to his castle to become Paradise Kingdom’s new princess. They’d die of laughter. Especially after the ball tonight, dressed up like royalty. Ciara would have the most fun, I’m sure.

  I don’t know about Manadhon. He could have killed them, ignoring my request, but he spared them. Out of all the attacks, his was the least threatening. It doesn’t say much when he can control your body. No wonder he’s a royal bodyguard. It doesn’t take much for him to kill. He can most likely kill someone instantaneously.

  How powerful is he? How many can he subdue at once? Will I ever be safe in this world?

  Chapter Twenty-One - Megan

  “My child, you barely touched your plate. I’ll ask the cooks to bring you something different immediately. I’m a fool to assume you and your father share the same palate. You were probably raised far away from any coasts. Poor girl,” she purrs. “To keep you safe, I’m sure.”

  Keep guessing, Auntie. Her strawberry blonde hair is tied in a neat single braid, slithering down her back, ending right above her knee. Not one single hair is out of place in the whole long thing. It must have taken hours to braid it into perfection. I don’t think she has ever cut it. If she straightened her hair, it would end past her feet, dragging on the floor. Gross. Dressed in a navy blue, almost black, sundress, her single braid contrasts against the dark dress, giving her hair more of an orange tone besides brightening her green eyes. Her eyes are smooth, like a piece of green sea glass after the waves have crashed over it repeatedly, chipping away at its surface, eroding it till sleek. Her posture is perfect. I try to imitate, but after a few seconds of holding the position, I decide it’s futile without a metal rod being inserted.

  If it weren’t for amazing night’s sleep, I wouldn’t be so placid. I didn’t want to get out of bed. My skin didn’t feel blistered. I woke refreshed and I swear I even heard birds singing. I felt at peace for about a minute before I remembered Manadhon captured me less than forty-eight hours ago, brought me to my father’s castle, and I had to endure lunch with my shrewd aunt, who wants one of her sons to either marry or kill me. But I finally had a night of blissful, dreamless slumber.

 
; I slept so hard and long that Kilyn had to splash water on me twice. But I egged her on. I figured she would enjoy childlike behavior and have some fun. Half-asleep, I said nothing could force me out of bed but cold water. She took the hint. It lifted her spirits, made her a child again, if only for a moment. She giggled the second time she splashed me after I protested I wouldn’t get out of bed without a fight. After a half hour of fun, she won and got me into the lukewarm tub. When I complained about the water’s temperature, she blamed me for taking so long to get out of bed. She’s feisty. I like her. I’m glad she’s under my care. She has no filter and her snippy attitude is bound for trouble.

  This morning, there were no Courtesans, no Mistresses of Robes, nor a Mistress of Coiffeuse. Father didn’t say when he would have a team of women ready, only that he would assemble them, so Kilyn went to work. She picked out a caramel halter-top dress, simple but shows off my hourglass figure. Instead of tying the ends around my neck, it snaps together, leaving my back bare.

  Kilyn left after I finished preparing for lunch. We both knew Manadhon would arrive shortly to escort me. She left happier than when she came into my room this morning. The staff had moved her room to the right of mine; Manadhon is to the left. They both have direct doors leading into my chambers, but only Kilyn uses hers. Manadhon only opens the hallway door. I don’t see the difference. They both lead into my room. He can knock from either. It makes no sense.

  Neither does this pointless conversation.

  “It’s okay. The biscuits are tasty, and so was the salad. I’m not a seafood person. I never liked it.”

  A large elaborate platter of colorful shells in various sizes and shapes sits before me. Someone who loves seafood would be in heaven, but it disgusts me. The smell is putrid. I was allergic to shellfish as a kid, but it’s my father’s favorite. I outgrew the allergy years ago but never acquired a taste for it. I’m a meat and potatoes girl, but I have been craving pizza for days. The cooks inside the castle should have the basic ingredients. If they don’t have a recipe for tomato sauce, we’ll discover something. Ciara found a vegetable or fruit that tastes like tomatoes. I’m sure if we simmered it, it would taste like tomato sauce. They have cheese, and we can easily make dough. Pizza making shouldn’t be complicated.

  “You’re skin and bones. You need to eat. Maybe they have some type of chicken dish prepared. I feel horrid. I should have inquired. I wanted this to be a special first aunt and niece lunch. You can’t conceive how excited I am to spend time with you.”

  No, I can’t. But I give her a huge smile anyway. “I’ll be fine if there is dessert. I love sweets. It’s so nice to spend time with family. My childhood was rather lonely.”

  One hand braces her chest in shock. Her other hand reaches across the table, grabbing mine. “I can’t imagine, child. I swear to you, you will never be alone again. I’ll be here for you, no matter what. You are my only niece, I will always shield you.” Her eyes twinkle and I can almost believe her sincerity. Almost. “My sons said they would be back in time to join us for dessert. I hope you like chocolate. You can eat that to your heart’s delight.”

  I love getting sucker-punched by having my cousins join us and then given a chocolate treat. “Oh, what kind? I love chocolate.”

  “Chocolate-filled chocolate cakes with fresh cream. They’re served hot from the oven, so the chocolate gushes out from the center when cut. It’s decadent. Oh, I’m so glad I got something right for our first meal together.”

  Her green eyes gleam with pride at her accomplishment, but they look cold, empty, and hollow. As if there is no life inside her. Any glimmer is an illusion. A wicked glow radiates from her smile, her presence. No wonder my sister has always been heartless. I can see the resemblance in the way Aunt Meloda’s lips curl like my father and sister’s.

  She won’t stop talking. How great the food is in Paradise Kingdom. How exquisite the marble gardens are this time of year. How we must go to the market and shop for dresses, in-between cooing how we will be great friends. She keeps expressing how happy she is to have another woman in the family. Honestly, I thought this conversation would be different. I would have bet for sure it would be an interrogation. Instead, she’s discussed hobbies, how to spend time in Sunce, which parties to attend, and the latest fashion. She would get along great with my sister—or would go to war with her, since they are identical.

  Chelsea seems to be a rather delicate subject. No one has asked a direct question about my family. I think no one else knows and is possibly scared to ask. Father is right—I don’t think she or Mom could handle the change or environment. If I’m on the verge of freaking out, they would melt down instantly. All this information bombarding Mom would cause her to lose control. She would drown herself in alcohol, making a fool of herself and embarrassing the king. Chelsea would become pure evil, acting and behaving like the snobby princess she imagined she always was. She would follow in Aunt Meloda’s footsteps, becoming worse than my father and aunt combined. A terrifying thought.

  Still, there is a decent chance my aunts assume my father has more children from multiple mothers. They may think he likes me the most out of all his children and picked me to be his heir. There are too many unknowns to reaffirm anything. It’s better to appear as an only child till I receive more information.

  Manadhon looks bored, standing in the patio’s corner next to another guard, making small talk while we eat. He angles himself to view the door and whole garden. His silver eyes sweep over our surroundings every minute. Alert and always ready. He’s superb at his job. Very well trained. I haven’t seen him fight, though his toned muscles imply he’d win. I wouldn’t want to fight him. I’m positive he would kill me in an instant, and not from his powers. Even though he is on guard, eyes alert, his body relaxes against the corner wall as if he was in a bar chatting with a friend.

  The large garden dining area overlooks the ocean. It’s located outside on a balcony close to my room. The balcony garden is picturesque and tranquil—if it weren’t for the company. I would like to spend time alone here at night, under the stars. Countless types of plants decorate the balcony. Strange orange vines with neon blue bell-shaped flowers climb up the white stone walls like ivy. They have to be my favorite besides the human-sized, red Venus flytraps lining the far outer wall, leaving the ocean view unobstructed. Spikes as long as a finger grow around what looks like the plant’s mouth. I wonder if they are carnivorous like the ones on Earth. If so, they could eat a kid whole. Large yellow palms hang from thin green trees, giving us shade during our meal. It’s a jungle outdoor dining room overlooking the ocean. Really, the view and atmosphere couldn’t get better, only the company.

  Knock, knock.

  The guards on the outside open the door for, I assume, my aunt’s two sons, my cousins, and my potential killers or husbands. It surprises me how the latter thought makes me sicker. I would rather die than marry either of them.

  “Looks like we are in time for dessert,” Mek says.

  With his chest puffed out, he stalks onto the balcony. His shoulders are broader than his brother’s, but not nearly as broad as Kevin’s. Liam gives his mother and me a friendly smile while walking in his brother’s shadow. He must be used to it by now. The three look alike, green eyes and strawberry blond hair, but each styled differently. Mek has his hair crew cut, the top showing a little curl, cut neat. He’s clean-shaven, and his pants and shirt are pressed, with no wrinkles. His appearance is important to him. If only he spent as much time on his personality. His eyes are like his mother’s: the eyes of a predator. They want to devour everything. Greed is written across his face and his eyes appear empty of a soul. The want for power radiates from him as he licks his lips, ready to sink his teeth into me. A super rape-y vibe comes from him. The kind that would make me scream for help while running away as fast as possible.

  “Hello Mother. Princess Mealla, you’re radiant. Your hair is brighter than fire.” Mek takes my hand and kisses it. Gross. His mother c
lears her throat, looking offended he didn’t give her a compliment too.

  “Thank you. Take care not to burn,” I say, adding a polite laugh. I don’t want to be too passive aggressive. “So glad you to could join us.” Kill me. “Please call me Megan. That’s what everyone’s called me my whole life. Mealla doesn’t sound right. It’s too formal.”

  “Thank you for having us, Megan. Glad to meet you. Uncle never spoke about you until now.” Liam speaks clear and concise. Unlike his mother or brother, he seems genuine. As if he’s nice for the sake of being nice. Not examining me for a scheme he has yet to hatch. His hair is disheveled, a messy heap on his head, uncut or brushed. He doesn’t appear to care. His raccoon eyes are somber, anxious, but observant. He’s smart. He must think a lot. There’s a slight nervous tremble in his hands. But it’s true: the more you think, the more you worry. “Tell us about yourself. Where were you born?”

  “Well, I grew up in a small coastal town far from here. Had a simple childhood, went to school, played outside, ate dinners around a fire, and spent nights stargazing. I worked in a tavern, helped build a house. I’ve done a little of everything. What about you? I never knew I had a family.”

  “You’re handy, huh? A house? Did you pick the colors and furniture?” Mek asks, as if telling a joke. He even laughs to himself. Egotistical bastard. Instead of just killing myself, I should take Mek with me. Rid this world of the narcissistic ass.

  “Yes, also hammered and nailed out the framing. Carried wood, laid floors, did it all.”

  Mek’s mouth hangs open. His brother Liam sits back as if seeing me for the first time.

  Aunt Meloda takes a moment to sip and swallow her tea before giving me a carnivorous smile. “I’ve never heard of a woman so… versatile.”

  ***

  “Remind me to never do that again.”

  Manadhon walks beside me, his eyes locked straight ahead. A small smile creeps onto his lips. “That looked pleasantly painful.”