by T J Muir
Rethine led her through the empty halls towards her parents’ private wing.
“Where is everyone? The servants are all gone?”
“They were relieved of their duties for the evening.”
That was unusual. It wasn’t a holiday or sacred day, and Diya wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. Were they anticipating another outburst from her? Were they trying to avoid any further disgraceful incidents? Was Hak’kar in a fury over the treatment of his son?
She followed her mother through the carved double doors that led to her parents’ wing and then into their personal study.
Before her mother sat down, Diya burst out. “I will not marry that wretch! I'll do anything--” but she didn't have any alternatives to offer. There weren't many options for women other than marriage especially not for one that was high born. “I won't do it!”
She glared at her parents, her fists balled up and prepared for a fight, but no one said anything. She looked back to her mother, who nodded to the chair beside her own.
“Sit down and stop behaving like a child,” she said. “We're on the same side, which is why we are meeting here, just us and Marrick. There are things we need to discuss privately.”
“Why is Marrick here?” she asked. He wasn't family, even if her father relied on him in ways he didn't trust to his own brothers. Marrick acted as an informal advisor much the way that Jay had supported and helped Trey. He was also Rillyn’s personal courier, a guilded flier who had taught her and Jay how to fly-- or at least the basics.
Then she realized that Marrick was the most likely source for much of Haz’s information. Marrick was like an uncle to her who doted on her and looked after her. It had never occurred to her that he may have been acting on orders from her father or the family council. “What is going on?” She wasn’t certain, and suspecting a trap, she looked over to her father.
Her father looked up and smiled sadly at her, swirling his brandy. “We understand that marrying into Hak'kar's house is not a viable option. He is not a man we want to be entangled with for all of our sakes. I do not want to see him privy to all of our council meetings and manipulating our dealings for his own benefit.”
So her parents were against the match but for their own reasons. She wasn’t sure if that should bother her. Shouldn’t they be against it for her sake? She decided that if it got her out of the arrangement, she didn’t care. Diya looked back and forth between her parents. That didn’t explain Marrick’s presence though. She looked over at her father’s unofficial advisor who sat there sipping brandy. The man was unreadable, as always. Then she looked back to her father.
“Hak'kar is not a man to be trusted. We know this. He has his hands in too many shady dealings. Bribery and blackmail are his favorite tools. This time, it is our family caught in the trap.”
Again with the family and not with concern for her own well-being. She sighed and pushed her emotions aside. “So what is the alternative? What am I supposed to do? How do I get out of this?”
“We've exhausted all of our options. I tried to appeal to Pavan, but the man refused to intervene. He made it clear that the proposal was acceptable to him, and he has given his approval already. It would be preferable if we could refuse the proposal, but the so'harat cannot afford this debt. The olive grove and vineyards have had two bad years, and the sheep suffered from goat plague that destroyed half the herd before they got it under control. We could have weathered that, but Tak has run up a handful of bad debts. This one is just the final blow. Refusing this offer in any way will be seen as a personal affront, and Hak'kar will call in the debt, a debt the family cannot pay, especially, not as things stand now.”
Diya felt the weight of guilt now that her decision had the power to completely ruin her family. That fact hadn't occurred to her, until now. “What about Trey? Da'har Zo'Trey?”
Her father frowned, looking displeased. “He is not our Da'har. I know you think of him as your friend, perhaps even a friend you trust, but we have no ties to House Zayam. Even if he might be inclined to help you out of friendship, you cannot ask him to overstep his bounds when he is so new to his own power. This is not an important enough matter for him to spend political favors to fix. Even if he could, that is not a solution.”
The room went silent for a long moment.
“Do you know where your halfbreed friend is?” Rethine asked, leaning forward slightly.
She spun in her seat to look at her mother, jaw dropped. The casual reference to Jay caught her off guard. The hint of distaste was evident in the way she said halfbreed, as if being part Faenyr was vile, almost as distasteful as if he were Beddo.
Did they think she was hiding him somewhere? If she knew where he was, she would have gone after him, but she didn’t tell them that. She suspected that her mother’s question was a trap, but it didn't really matter. “I have no idea. I don't think he knew where he was going, himself. He left very abruptly, taking his leave from Trey.” Then she looked over at Marrick, who looked a bit surprised. “But,” she began and then paused. She waited to make sure she had their attention. They needed to understand how serious she was. She looked at each of them as she spoke, using her father’s tone to communicate her certainty. “He said he would send for me when he was safe.”
Her mother shrugged, waving her hand dismissively. “If you don't know where he is, the rest isn't relevant. It isn't as if marriage to him were even an option.”
Even though she knew it was true, hearing that hit her hard. She knew she would go to him directly, wherever he was. She just had to be patient. Then she felt torn because that wouldn’t help her family.
“So running off after her lover isn't an option,” Marrick said flatly.
How does the man always seem to know what I am thinking?
Rillyn choked on his brandy, and his face turned a dark red. He looked over at Marrick, eyes narrowed in displeasure. “No, running off after the actual man isn’t an option.” His words sounded measured as he continued, “but perhaps this will serve as a workable cover story without him here. Thankfully, after that delightful outburst yesterday, no one will have difficulty believing that a spoiled and willful child was filled with romantic notions of her secret lover and ran off to find him.”
Diya shook her head, trying to absorb what she had just heard. “What? What are you talking about? I told you the truth. I don't know where he is. I have no idea!”
They ignored her. Her mother chewed her lip, lost in thought. “We would have to present it carefully, a bit of gossip planted in the right places,” she said, swirling her wine around her glass. “It would spread through the social channels like a brushfire in the dry season.”
Marrick nodded towards Rethine. “Your beloved only child,” he began, choosing each word with care as he wove a narrative together like a tragic story, “whom you have perhaps over-indulged a bit, developed a romantic attachment to this foreign boy. The scandal. People will be aghast. Then---his sudden departure, followed so soon with the formal engagement to a local noble, broke the tender young heart of your impressionable girl.” His words wove together a narrative. “Would it be so far-fetched that a grief-stricken young lady might then do something foolish? Something… rash? It’s well-known the young girl in question can be headstrong and willful.” He glanced over at Diya.
Headstrong? Willful? Why was Marrick saying such horrid things about her? She felt betrayed and looked at him in confusion.
He held up a hand, stopping her before she could speak. She clenched her hands in her lap, but she let out a breath and waited.
He continued. “I believe her that she has no idea where the halfbreed has gone. If she had any idea where to find this mysterious stranger, she would have gone dashing off already.” She saw the lopsided grin as he said that. She realized Marrick had been watching her time with Jay closer than she realized. Marrick knew she was in love with Jay.
Diya flinched, her heart breaking just a little bit more as she heard her s
tory being told. She was confused by what Marrick was saying, but she heard the sympathy in his voice. She looked down at her hands, her nails digging into her palms to keep from crying. Marrick understood.
She looked up, trying to see what her father might be thinking. She watched his mouth tighten and then turn into a frown.
Diya opened her mouth, took half a breath and stopped as the far-reaching implications struck. “What are you saying?” Were they suggesting she might try to harm herself? Did they think she would become distraught and fling herself off a cliff or into the river?
Rethine shifted against the velvet chair, contemplating her wine and frowning. “We are discussing the feasibility of helping you to disappear.”
“What? Do you plan to try and hide me away somewhere on the estates?” She had always loved the southern vineyards, with its rolling hills and quaint villages. She could relax in the country and spend time painting. Several of her friends had country estates in the area. Could she visit them in secret? No, that would be too dangerous. She would be hiding there, but how long could that last? She tried to work it out, and her mind raced through several scenarios.
“No,” her father said, interrupting her thoughts. “There is no feasible way to keep you hidden here or anywhere in the area. There is too much risk of someone finding out,” her father stated.
Diya suddenly noticed her mother's eyes were welling up with tears. She was staring down into her glass, her jaw clenched.
Diya felt fear creep in now. “Then what? What do you have in mind?”
Her father sat upright in his chair. She could tell that he had made a decision. “You need to vanish. We will of course mount a search for you, and the wedding will be postponed. There will be rewards for any information as to your whereabouts but. . .,” he sipped his brandy. “You will remain gone.”
Diya stared at him. “Gone? Gone where? You’ve all agreed there isn’t a place where I can remain undetected.” She felt the glimmer of hope begin to fade.
“No place here,” Marrick said as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked her in the eye. “There are several possibilities, but you must understand. There can be no contact with your family or friends. You will be in hiding. You will no longer be a lady of a powerful house. You must become invisible. ”
Diya looked out the window, staring into the dark shadows beyond the curtains.
She didn’t understand what they were trying to explain. “But where would I go? What will I do?”
Her father turned his glass round and round in a circle, a habit he had when thinking. Two swirls of the cup before he continued. “Nowhere near here, and no one outside this room can know. No one. At this point, we cannot trust the household staff. A slip of gossip could undo the entire plan. It would only take one careless slip or one servant who is working for Hak’kar for this to all fall apart. Purging any spies could take months which is time we do not have."
Diya remembered the bracelet Raifen had given her, dropped into her lap by Hakket. She looked down at her hands. How many spies did Hak'kar have? Should she tell them about the bracelet? She decided to wait. If they came up with a plan then it wouldn’t matter. They already knew Hak’kar had spies and used people. She looked back to her father.
The cup stopped. Her father nodded towards Marrick.
“You need to understand fully and completely,” Marrick said, leaning forward to address her. “This is not some game. You will be leaving everything behind. Everything. No contact and there is no knowing for how long we must hide you. Many months. A year? Several years? What if it were forever?”
Forever? They can’t possibly mean that. They just needed time to clear this debt or for Hak’kar to marry his son off to someone else.
Diya's mother started to cry. Regaining her composure, she wiped the tears from her face. “I’m so very sorry, sweeting. No one ever wanted this for you. It’s not what anyone imagined.”
Diya felt a moment of pity for her mother who managed the house with elegance and style. She’d never been part of decisions and governing. That wasn’t a woman’s place. Now, looking at her, Diya knew her mother had just realized that important decisions were being made, and that she had no control over what was happening to her only child.
Diya understood that feeling, it mirrored her own sense of helplessness.
Diya realized she wasn’t entirely helpless, though. She could disappear. That could buy her family some time. Time for what, though? Could they find a way to clear the debt? Would that mean they would be able to refuse Hak'ket's proposal? That could take a long time. Forever was a really long time. What if Jay tries to find me? He wouldn’t know where to look for her. She looked over to Marrick. Of course. Jay would know to seek him out, and Marrick would make sure to tell him. Wouldn’t he? What if Marrick didn’t trust Jay? What then? If this was going to happen, she needed to convince Marrick that Jay was on their side. Then Marrick would help Jay find her, wherever she was.
“But, where will I go? What are you thinking?”
Rillyn nodded to Marrick who leaned forward and looked straight at Diya. He had a sharp look, calculating and piercing. It was disarming.
“As you know, I am not from the south nor from Tatak Rhe. My family is from a small village east of Oldfall. You wouldn't have heard of it. Dunwood. I have a brother there who has three children. His wife, Jinna, is in poor health. I am sure he would be grateful for someone to mind the children. He travels a lot and cannot always be there. They could use someone with a kind and gentle heart right now.”
Three! A nursemaid to three whining, puking, drooling babies?
“A nursemaid?!” she asked, shocked. “I couldn't. I don't know the first thing about minding children!”
“You’ll learn,” Marrick cocked his head, watching her.
She couldn’t read his expression. What wasn’t he telling her?
She looked over to her mother, who was looking down at her hands clenched in her lap. No help there. She looked back to her father.
“What were you expecting? Did you think to take a tour of old school friends?” Her father’s voice had that edge to it. “Going from one official event to another, socializing your way around the country? This may not be what any of us envisioned for your immediate future and you may not love the idea, but it may keep you safe and give the council time to come up with a solution to the entire situation.”
She blinked. She hadn’t thought about what she’d actually do if she left. I’d simply imagined a similar life in some new location. Immediately after, the reality of that lie hit her. It was exactly what she imagined. The same life. Just— not here. She couldn’t imagine anything different. This had always been her life, and there had never been any reason to expect it to change.
Marrick’s plan was to hide her deeply and completely— beyond where Hak’kar’s spies would ever ferret her out. Now the concept of forever came truly crashing down on her. It wasn't just a matter of relocating her. They wanted to change her circumstances enough so that Hak'kar would be looking for someone that didn't exist.
“Papa?” Diya turned to her father, voice breaking. The child in her wanted to fling her arms around his neck, imploring him to fix everything, but the adult side saw the reality of her situation. Father cannot save me. In that moment he was neither the So’har nor her beloved Papa but a man in an unbearable position, a man used to being in absolute control and now struggling against helplessness.
Diya understood her father’s role as So’har. Like every So'har in the world, within his lands, his word was always law. Unquestioned, unopposed, but she understood that he had to think beyond the good of the family. There were thousands of people within the So’harat who relied on him to protect them and their interests. Here he was in all his finery, with his hands tied. Because of me.
No. Not because of me.
Because of Tak and because of Hak'kar. Now, it fell to her to save father. Her family. Herself. It wasn't fair, wha
t they were asking her to do, but the alternative was far, far worse.
CHAPTER Five
Rethine took a renewed interest in her daughter. Maybe it was because Diya was actually at home with nothing to do. Her mother had taken it upon herself to help Diya get prepared. A lot of that was because no one else could be trusted. Ever since the family meeting, Diya had begun looking at all of the servants and staff with suspicion. How well did she know any of them? Would little Maldi run straight to Hak’kar, telling the man about Diya’s packed clothes?
So there were only three people that knew about the plan, other than herself. Rethine had cancelled several social engagements, giving Diya all of her attention. The two of them figured out what Diya would need and what she could bring, which wasn’t very much. Her mother was making a valiant effort to help make this as painless as possible, going through Diya’s wardrobe and picking out her favorites.
“No, Mama. Not the rose shirt.”
“But you love it.”
“It'll be colder up there. Marrick said I can only take what fits in a small pack and nothing heavy. He said to expect it to be colder than I am used to.”
She looked outside her window at the lush gardens sprawled below. Diya watched her mother fold the shirt and put it back on the bed, staring down at it and smoothing it out— as though she might bring comfort to the abandoned clothing. She looked back out the window, trying to press it into her memory. Behind the treeline she could just make out the yfa chirrik, the opalescent shell shimmering in the afternoon sun.
Diya sighed and brought her attention back to packing.
“I'll miss the yfa chenoura,” Diya said, looking up suddenly. “It's only ten days from now.” She looked at her mother with the unspoken question, but she could see from the pinched look and the faint quiver of her mother's lip that postponing her departure wasn't an option. The annual ceremony was one of the few formal functions she looked forward to. She had been taught all of the songs and stories from the time she was very young, visiting with the priests and learning the family's sacred lore. She had never been very devout, but she had loved the songs, eerie and haunting, occasionally chilling in their beauty. Each one had to be learned exactly, practiced for many years until the priests were satisfied including with the retelling of the great myths and ancient historic events-- some of which must have been about her own ancestors.