by T J Muir
“I’m worried for him too, but he is more resourceful than most people realize and he has friends to watch out for him,” Trey said, then paused to take a sip of brandy before looking at her directly “I would help you if I could. If there’s anything I can do to help you, I will, but right now, I’m still learning how to… how to...well-- everything,” he said, with a helpless shrug. “By the gods, I miss Jay. He kept me sane and I could trust his advice. He helped me to think about things instead of just telling me what to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. “I’m just too new to the rulership at this point. My father made it look so easy.”
Rillyn had also made it look so easy but Diya remembered when her father had first assumed the rulership. Things hadn’t been smooth and easy. Not at first. She understood Trey’s position. Part of her hadn’t expected any miracles from Trey. She felt tired now, letting go of that tiny shred of hope. The walk back home was going to feel ten times longer. She considered asking Trey for a carriage to take her home but didn’t want to put him in a difficult position. How would it look for a young unmarried woman to be leaving his residence in the middle of the night?
CHAPTER Four
The sun streamed through the open doors of Diya's room, a bright lemon sky with birds singing loudly. Diya grumbled at the sunlight and burrowed back under her covers but finally gave up and forced herself out of bed and into fresh clothes. Seeing herself in the mirror gave her a shock. Her rich auburn hair, so like her father’s was all snarled and tangled. There were bruises under her eyes from a lack of sleep, too. Her skin, normally so creamy smooth, looked blotchy.
She went to great lengths every day, making sure she was impeccably attired. That included imported soaps and creams, jewelry that brought out her blue-grey eyes and carefully done hair with silver pins and braids holding it back to frame her face. What stared back at her now could have been a homeless street urchin.
Her mind was completely focused on Jay and the impending marriage proposal. Seeing herself in the mirror, she realized she needed to take better care of herself. What would Jay think if he saw her looking like this? He would probably laugh, she realized. He had never been fastidious with his own appearance. She had often noticed that he had buttons that had been left undone or were misbuttoned, and he often wore clothes that had gotten torn or smudges on the pants. Jay had always seemed unaware of his clothes, but she had found it endearing. However, it was different for him. She had always been fastidious with her appearance.
She pulled a few twigs out of her hair and grabbed her ivory handled brush, running it through her long dark strands of hair until they looked presentable. Then she scrubbed her face and rubbed her skin down with essence of orange blossom. The last several days were wearing on her. Trekking across the city to find Trey and drinking too much wine during their conversation pushed her into exhaustion. She was feeling the cumulative lack of sleep.
She settled back down in her favorite spot, a window seat with a deep ledge, with vases placed in each of the three windows that looked out over the gardens. She heard something clattering from the front courtyard but didn't really care, deciding it was just more of her father's business advisors. Normal daily noises. Despite her own turmoil, the ordinary world proceeded, and her father had an entire so’harat to oversee.
She was pulled out of her sulking by a knock on her door. She glanced over her shoulder, deciding to ignore it. A moment later, there was a second knock. Then the door opened, and her mother strode into the room.
“Wake up,” her mother called out from the outer room. Rethine came in dressed impeccably in the Shaifen House blue with the saffron of her own House accenting it. Sea silk was carefully embroidered with lilies and doves. “You can't just sleep all day.”
“I was awake,” Diya snapped back sharply. “Why does it matter anyway?”
“You need to get up and get dressed. It's a beautiful day, and you should try to get out and enjoy it.”
Diya turned to face her mother. “Oh yes, I should enjoy my last few days of freedom.”
Rethine ignored Diya's foul mood and straightened up. “Well, you have a visitor, so make yourself presentable.”
Diya heard the change in her mother's tone. No longer light and airy, this tone was insistent.
“I have no desire to see anyone, so you can just tell them to go away!” She began twirling the vase in front of her.
“You can get dressed and present yourself downstairs, or we can escort your guest up here to visit with you. It's your choice.”
Her hand tightened on the base of the vase and she clenched her jaw. She turned and stared at her mother. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when her mother was not backing down. Rethine was having none of it, she headed to the door, turning before she left.
“Up here or downstairs. Your choice.”
Diya looked out her window and wondered if she could climb down and escape. Unfortunately, she knew she would have to come back. She wasn’t going to run off without some plan, not the way Jay had left in the middle of the night. She sighed. Her mother was going to force the issue. Whoever was expecting her, she doubted it was any of her social friends, or her mother would have started with a bright cheerful greeting and told her about her visitor. She doubted this was going to be an entertaining visit.
Off came the casual clothes, flung across the room in her fit of anger, landing in a heap just outside her dressing room. Rummaging through her clothes, she chose a light silk shirt, a dusty blue sea silk vest and blue-grey skirts. She ran a brush through her hair again but was determined not to put herself on display for anyone.
Dressed well enough to avoid her mother's displeasure, she made her way down to the formal sitting room. Her mother's voice carried through the doorway along with a man's voice that she didn't recognize.
The man had his back to her, attention completely on Rethine, who laughed awkwardly but brightened when she saw Diya walk into the room. She stood up and the guest turned around.
Black hair, pale face, scrawny build. Hak'ket! He looked a bit older than she remembered, not quite the scrawny pimple-faced pest. Dressed in the dark burgundy of House Charam, just like Hak’kar. Hak’ket wore more of the dark green, but the burgundy was Charam’s primary color. Regardless of the clothing, he was still thin and wiry. At least his pimples were gone, replaced by a thin beard that looked foolish on his boyish face.
“So'har Diya,” he greeted her, bowing slightly.
When he straightened, Diya felt his eyes assessing her, and he had a slight leer on his face as he looked at the low cut of her shirt. He licked his lips and smiled at her.
Diya repressed a shudder and took a step backwards, prepared to turn and run.
Rethine walked over to her, held her arm in a firm grip and tugged at Diya’s sleeve, a reminder to be on good behaviour. She coughed politely, “I'll leave you two alone. Would you care for refreshments?”
“No, thank you,” Hak'ket said. “The company of your beautiful daughter is more than enough.” Another leer.
Diya flinched.
“Why don't you show your guest the gardens? I'll have refreshments brought out to you there.”
Diya was sure she would throw up if she were forced to eat or drink anything. What was her mother thinking, throwing them together like this? When she looked at Hak'ket, she heard Trey's words in her mind. She shrunk inside. He looked oblivious to her distress.
“You look as lovely as I remember,” he said, stepping closer. “I know we have crossed paths many times, but I regret that we have never had the chance to know each other better.”
Diya could hear the leer underneath his words. She could feel him staring at her, appraising her. She had no response. She stood there, wishing she were anywhere else in the entire world. Please Iyana, save me from marrying this miserable wretch. Knowing she had a responsibility to her House, she forced a smile. “Come, let us go out into the gardens.” Maybe a statue would
fall over and crush him.
Hak'ket stepped forward, taking her arm. “Come, let me escort you out. You can show me the house after we inspect the grounds.”
Diya flinched away from his touch, stepping away discreetly as she extended an arm to the side door. “This way,” she said. “The west veranda opens out into the gardens.” She turned and walked toward the wide glass doors before Hak'ket could grab hold of her again. Being made of magically fused quartz, the glass was perfectly clear except for the silver foxes that were etched into the middle of each one. This design was one of her favorites, showing the fox under the three moons. She knew the glass for the entire main house had been made many years ago and imported from the western peninsula.
Once they were outside, he took her by the arm again, trying to be casual and gallant-- and missing completely. Diya waved her arm, pointing vaguely down towards the center of the family’s garden.
They walked along the latticed walkway, past green marble pillars with vines twining upwards in meticulous spirals. Tiny white flowers blossomed on them, attracting hummingbirds and butterflies. Diya loved the magical effect of walking along this path, past low hedges in geometric shapes. Inside each hedged-area were colored flowers, pale blues, delicate pinks, bright orange and yellows. The path through the garden was made of several different types of rounded stones, in dark blue and silver-grey of House Shaifen, meticulously arranged into geometric patterns, making neatly manicured diamonds that were set into a fine white marble gravel.
Then they came to steps that led down to the middle area, where a latticed roof created a shaded area, with table and chairs. At the bottom of the steps, he turned to look back at the house. “It's smaller than my father's estates.’
Diya couldn’t tell if he was being dismissive or apologetic, and she had no interest in pursuing the subject.
“Which rooms will be ours after we are married?”
“What?”
Hak'ket looked uncertain and confused, head tilted as he looked at her strangely. “When we are married. Of course, we will live here so I can assume my responsibility as the successor to the so’harat.”
Diya coughed, choking.
He looked at her, confused and concerned. “It’s all been decided already. My father has it all arranged,” he said. “I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Are you okay? Here, maybe you should sit down?” he led her over to a stone bench.
Diya wanted to rip her arm free but gritted her teeth and let him escort her to the seat and help her sit down. As if she was incapable of performing such a simple task alone! She took an embroidered silk scarf and balled it up in both hands, clenching it in her lap. She stared down and fidgeted with the corner of the rich yellow fabric. Had this match already been arranged? Was her family lying to her?
She couldn’t believe that. Her father had always treated her with respect. Even when he disagreed with her, he still discussed his reasons and listened to what she had to say. Would her family have made a formal agreement behind her back? Were they simply trying to find a way to coerce her into obedience? Was that what this visit was about? Questions raced through her mind. She glanced over at Hak’ket, his dark eyes focused on her. She looked back down before he could say anything.
As if on cue, Maldi appeared carrying a silver tray, filled with noon-day wine, sliced fruit, cheeses, sweet rolls, stuffed grape leaves and olives. Hak'ket stood up and motioned for the girl to place the tray on the small marble table next to them. “Put them right there,” he said. “Be quick about it. Is the sweet bread fresh baked?” he asked in a sharp tone.
Diya stifled another round of coughing.
Maldi looked up, surprised. “Yes, I’m sure the bread is fresh. It may still be warm.”
Hak’ket sniffed. “I am so’har and you will address me accordingly.” His voice was sharper than anyone in Diya’s family ever used with the staff.
“So’har,” the servant added.
“You are dismissed.”
The young girl seemed unwilling to take orders from a guest and looked over to Diya. “Will you be needing anything more, missus?”
Diya smiled at the girl. “It’s okay Maldi. This is perfect, and I am grateful.”
Diya’s words reassured the girl, and she left with a polite nod.
Hak’ket frowned, his eyes narrowed. Once the servant was gone, Hak’ket took it upon himself to pour two glasses of wine and then handed her a glass, a fine crystal goblet. She took a long swallow of the noon-day wine, tasting the peaches, raspberries and lavender more than the wine. Right now, she wished for something far stronger, but after a few moments, she felt the soothing effects of the wine and lavender.
Once the coughing subsided, she looked up to see Hak'ket watching her. He seemed genuinely concerned that she was okay. Of course, he wouldn't want anything to happen to her before she could produce an heir! She looked at him and realized that he was probably innocent in all of this. He had been told what to do and agreed with whatever his father commanded. He was innocent perhaps but no less repulsive.
“I have a present for you,” he said, sitting down next to her and reaching into his pocket. “Close your eyes,” he insisted. He looked genuinely eager and anxious. “Close them,” he chided her.
Diya sighed but closed her eyes and tried not to flinch when he took her hand. He opened it to place his surprise in her hands.
“Okay, open them,” he said, sounding childish and excited.
Diya opened her eyes, looking down at her hand. A very finely wrought silver bracelet rested in her open palm. She felt the ground rock underneath her, and her stomach knotted in anger and fear.
“Do you like it?” Hak'ket asked eagerly.
Diya had no words. She stared at the glittering Ajak silver. It was rare and distinct for its silvery-blue tint. She recognized it immediately. She had worn it herself just a few years ago, a gift from Raifen. The charming man with a rakish smile had moved in the same circles as many of her friends. Even though he was from a merchant family, they were wealthy and Raifen was well educated. Diya had succumbed to his charms and he had courted her for a while, until she grew tired of him. Then he would go out of his way to win her back again. He had gifted the bracelet to her the last time she had been romantically involved with him. How had it come into Hak'ket's hands? She had returned it to Raifen in an angry breakup. Had Raifen been Hak'kar's man also?
“Are you okay? You look very pale,” Hak'ket moved closer to her, placing a hand on her cheek. Diya jerked away from his touch.
“I'm feeling very ill. You'll have to excuse me.” As she spoke, she reached for the bell that sat on the tray and rang it. Maldi appeared before she could even put it back down.
“Please show our guest out. I am unwell and need to retire.”
Hak’ket stood up, placing himself between Diya and Maldi. “I'll take my leave and return when you are feeling better,” he said, wringing his hands, looking unsure. Then he leaned forward, placing one hand on her arm, bent close and kissed her.
Diya's eyes had been locked on the bracelet, in shocked disbelief. The feel of Hak'ket's lips near her mouth jolted her. It was too much for her. Without thinking, her hand whipped up, slapping him across the face with a sharp crack.
Hak'ket jumped back, hand covering the bright red mark on his face. He looked confused and angry.
“I'm so sorry,” she said, standing up. Words refused to form in her overwhelmed brain. She looked at him closely. From the look on his face, it was obvious that he didn't know anything about the bracelet’s history. It was just a pretty and rare trinket. He also didn’t look like he expected defiance from a woman. She wasn’t sorry about that, but she had hit him harder than she should have. “I don't know what came over me,” she lied. “I'm not myself today.”
Hak'ket nodded sympathetically. “I understand completely. I'll take my leave and come back another day.” He bowed graciously and then followed Maldi out.
Diya retreated to her rooms, with instructi
ons to her maid that she wasn't to be disturbed. It took awhile for the initial shock to wear off. The bracelet was a clear message, direct from Hak'kar. She wasn't entirely sure what it meant about the connection between Raifen and Hak'kar, but it was clear that Hak'kar must have been watching her for years. Had his plan been for Raifen to marry her and manipulate the family that way? Or was it just a warning, trying to force her into obedience?
She was beginning to feel trapped. She began to realize how oblivious she had been for her entire life. She had trusted her parents and the council to take care of her and protect her. So many years of social events and gossip. She should have been paying attention. Her father had always advised her, she was so’har and that came with responsibilities. She had grown up sheltered and protected from this whole other world. Now she was being forced into the middle of it all as a pawn to be discarded.
There had to be some alternative to this marriage. She thought through all of her possible prospects. Several of them were already married or promised, but it didn't matter because she couldn't see herself with anyone but Jay. Could she stall the wedding long enough for him to send for her? What if he couldn’t? What if he never could? What if he were dead? She refused to believe that. Besides, she needed some argument she could present to her family and Jay was not that solution. The family would insist on someone with status and wealth, that was always understood. Now, it was imperative.
The sun had set, casting the room in dim light when her mother knocked on her door and came looking for her. Rethine looked exhausted, even beneath the finery, jewels and makeup.
“Come. Your father would speak with you, now. Alone. Quietly.”
Diya was too tired to argue, so she got up and followed without a word. She was also curious. Why now, this late? And why alone? Were they hoping to dangle some proposal in front of her? Some bargain? Perhaps they wanted to suggest an alternative proposal and test her reaction in private before talking to the rest of the council. Maybe Hak'kar had changed his offer? That was too much to hope for.