Chapter Six
Word of my vision spread through the palace like wildfire, passed from mouth to ear by anyone willing to listen. I became an overnight, unwilling celebrity. Many came to call, some under the pretense of visiting with Damara, even more making overt requests for use of my powers. Damara denied them each in turn and kept me well out of sight. I grew restless and bitter towards her for caging me like an exotic animal. It was my fault, not that I would admit it aloud. Had I not saved Princess Sabine, we might have entered another century of war with Neaux. Though at the time, I did not realize it. I thought to save her life and had not considered the widespread repercussions had I not been successful.
I spent my idle time wondering about the first diviner’s cryptic message. I had saved the princess, and yet I was no closer to solving my own mystery. Who took my memories and why? I spent much time contemplating Damara’s motives. Would she betray me simply for the opportunity to put Layton on the throne? I thought I had known her once, but perhaps what I thought I remembered of her had been fabricated as a distraction.
I was awakened late at night, as I often was, by my nightmares. I lay staring at the canopy for a few moments, hoping sleep would claim me once more. After a few minutes of tossing in bed, it became apparent sleep would elude me once more this night. The others would be abed, judging by the glowing embers in my fireplace.
I was considering sneaking into the receiving room and reading by candlelight when a thought occurred to me. With the house asleep, now would be the perfect time to snoop and perhaps find some answers.
I threw on a housecoat and grabbed a candleholder from the table beside the door. I lit it with the embers of the dying fire and slipped out into the hall. A balmy breeze blew through the empty corridor. I peered in both directions, towards the bedchambers and towards the gathering areas. The servants had gone to bed as well; it was the chance I had been waiting for. I crept down the hall, careful about my foot placement as to not creak a floorboard and send the alarm that I was sneaking about.
I made it to Damara’s study when raised voices reverberated from beyond the door. I froze and flattened my back against the wall, thinking Damara or Johai would burst out at any moment and send me back to bed like a wayward child. No one emerged, but shadows disrupted a thin shaft of light escaping from beneath the door. Already in the habit of eavesdropping, I pressed my ear to the door.
“She’s not ready for this. We need the right allies, ones we can trust,” Johai said.
“It’s too late for that; the die has been cast,” Damara replied.
“It can’t be too late. There has to be another way.”
“There’s no other choice. We both know that time is running out.”
They were both silent, and I heard feet scuffing across the floor. I imagined Johai pacing before Damara.
“The way she looks at me, it’s as if I were the embodiment of her hatred. I do not know how much longer I can stand by and watch.”
It surprised me to hear Johai speak thusly. I thought he loathed me as much as I did him, but perhaps… I shook my head. I refused to acknowledge my next thought, though at the back of my mind I knew I would need to face it at some point.
A chair scraped across the stone floor. “We decided this is what’s best for her. You cannot change your mind now; it would destroy her.”
“She’s pulled away from me, and I have only myself to blame.”
The raw emotion in his voice was unlike anything I had heard from Johai, and it perplexed me. What if I had been wrong and he did not hate me? What if he felt something quite the opposite? A searing pain shot through my skull at the thought, and I doubled over from it. Starbursts formed behind my lids as I collapsed to my knees. I must have called out because Johai and Damara ran out of the study.
I felt Damara’s hands upon my face and heard her beyond the pounding of the blood in my head. Johai loomed over her shoulder, and the candid expression of pain on his face was too much for my pain-addled mind to comprehend. He pushed Damara aside and scooped me up in his arms. The pain did not fade, but I found my sense and breathed through the pain. His expression returned to a neutral indifference, but I knew what I had seen and heard. I was just not sure what to think about this new development.
The next morning, I entered the receiving room. I felt weak from the night before. The headache had subsided, but trying to process Johai’s words only doubled the pain in my head. Damara sat at the edge of a couch. She stared at a folded piece of parchment, her brows furrowed.
She glanced up to greet me. “It seems Princess Sabine wants to thank you in person for saving her,” she said. By the door, a servant in royal livery hovered, his expression placid.
My heart skipped a beat, but I tried to keep my excitement from showing on my face. This was the chance I needed. “Oh?”
Damara walked to a desk by a window and withdrew a piece of parchment from a drawer. “Yes. She requests you join her for her morning walk. Will you?” She motioned to the parchment.
I walked over, my hands trembling with excitement. “Are you sure?”
Damara smiled. “You can’t stay here forever.”
I exhaled. Guilt constricted my chest. I hated not being able to trust her. Perhaps she did have my best interest in mind. One slip of the tongue and nigh the whole court came knocking down my door. Then why the secrecy, why take my memories away? Damara patted me on the shoulder and leaned in. “Be careful, Maea. Not everyone at court is what they seem.”
Like you? I bit back my tart reply and penned a hasty response to the princess. Damara would have to wait. I needed to press my advantage while I had it.
I met the princess at the edge of the gardens. One of Damara’s guards joined me, Earvin, a quiet fellow who recently had joined her service. Today, two of Princess Sabine’s guards escorted her, and none of her usual entourage accompanied us.
“Lady Maea, well met.” She bowed to me as an equal, and I returned a deeper bow, feeling uncomfortable and uncertain. “Thank you for joining me.”
“It’s my pleasure, Your Highness.”
She smiled, but it did not reflect in her eyes. It struck me how sad they seemed.
“Shall we?” She motioned towards a pleasant verdant path.
We walked for some time in silence, unsure where to begin. The diviner’s clues led me thus far, and without the ability to exercise my craft, I reached an impasse. I was well and truly on my own. We turned a corner, and Princess Sabine motioned for one of her guards, the same one that had attended her in the Hall of Entertainment.
“Beau, can you give us a moment?”
He glowered at me, eyes narrowed. I am sure after the attack he suspected everyone and rightly so.
“Your Majesty, I don’t think that is appropriate.”
“Beau, Lady Maea saved me. I’m sure if I can trust anyone here at court, it’s her.”
I cowered beneath his stare and attempted to appear innocuous. He stared me up and down as if measuring my risk, and in the end, he gave way to his mistress’s wishes. I also instructed Earvin to stand down, and he obeyed with a crisp nod. We walked down a sloping garden and meandered through a series of gurgling fountains.
The air smelt of the sea, and a heavy marine layer kept it comfortable, but a tepid wind predicted another scorching day.
We passed by a group of gardeners hard at work when Princess Sabine spoke. “You said you knew I was in danger because you had a vision.”
“I did, Your Highness.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said. “I’m no sovereign here, merely a bird in a gilded cage.”
How I empathized with her, surrounded by caretakers whom wished to use me. I wished to express my feelings but feared it would not be welcome. She was a princess, even if she was a hostage, and I was no one of import.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, ’tis not of your doing. Now tell me, what are these visions you spoke of?”
&
nbsp; “I am a diviner, gifted with the ability to see both past and possible futures.”
“Ilusino,” she said in hushed Neaux.
Dreamer, I thought, a fitting title.
“Or so we’ve been called in other lands,” I replied.
She stared at me in wide-eyed astonishment. “You speak my mother tongue as well? It’s forbidden for me to speak it in public.” She did not turn her eyes away, as if she wished me to challenge her for daring to break the rules of her imprisonment.
The injustice galled me. She, a prisoner cut off from her homeland, could not even use her native tongue! I held back an angry remark. It wouldn’t be seemly to speak out to the princess.
When I did not comment, she continued. “I find it hard to believe… and yet.”
“It is true,” I said.
“But why save me? We have just met.”
I decided honesty would best win her trust, and Goddess knew, I needed an ally. “Because I am like you; I am trapped in a gilded cage, and yet worse, I know not why.”
“Tell me more,” she said.
And so I spun my tale for Princess Sabine, without censor. I had no reason not to trust her, and true, we were two of a kind, both pawns in the game of politics. I told her everything from my nightmares and the first diviner’s warnings, to my vision and subsequent collapse in the banquet, my suspicions about Damara, and before I knew it, I was telling her about what I had overheard the night before. When I finished, she stared at my face, scanning my features.
“I believe you. I cannot explain it, but I do.”
“Thank you,” I replied. It was cathartic to get it all out. Having released my burden, I felt much lighter.
“I wish I were the key to help you, but unfortunately, I have no answers for you.”
“Then my search continues.” I sighed.
We stopped alongside a fountain, and Princess Sabine gazed at the water’s surface. A few petals floated along its surface, having fallen from a nearby flowering tree.
“I have been a tool for political maneuvering since I was a child. I have learned a few things as a result, and if Damara and Johai plan what you suggest, then it could mean either chaos or the dawning of a new age, depending on who they choose to rule or who Danhad chooses to rule.”
“I know. I fear, no matter who is on the throne, the wrong people will be in control, and that is why I must find a way to stop them. That is what I think the diviner requested of me.”
Princess Sabine nodded. “Perhaps we could walk together a while longer and talk about your plans?” Princess Sabine raised her brow in question, and I realized she was asking me to spend time with her.
“I have heard the hedge maze provides much entertainment to those willing to attempt it.”
A half smile tugged her lips. “Indeed it does, would you be interested?”
“I believe I would.” I smiled, and we headed in that direction.
We chatted about inconsequential things, and I marveled at how relaxed I felt just strolling and talking with the princess. For a moment there were no dire warnings and no plots. We were two young women enjoying a summer day.
As we neared the entrance to the maze, two figures approached us from across the lawn. The taller of the two hailed us. Prince Adair and a little girl clutching his hand drew within sight. When the little girl saw Princess Sabine, she let loose a great squeal of delight and wrenched free of Prince Adair. Her dark curls caught in the breeze like a banner behind her as she ran towards us. Princess Sabine crouched down to receive her, and the child threw her arms around Princess Sabine’s neck. I could have sworn they were sisters but for the piercing blue eyes on the child. Prince Adair strode over, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
I fell into a deep bow and peered at him through my lashes.
“Sabine, well met. And you, I have not had the pleasure of a proper introduction.” He held his hand out, helping me to my feet. My face flushed as I recalled our most recent meeting.
“I am Maea, Your Highness.”
“Call me Adair, if you will.”
Raising my head, I met his gaze. He pondered me for a moment and looked back towards Princess Sabine.
“Adair, how rare to see you lacking a multitude gathering about you,” Princess Sabine said.
“Indeed, but Edalene is all the companionship I need.” He ruffled the little girl’s hair, and she admired him adoringly.
“Sabine, will you try the maze with me? Brother promised to play if I can solve it,” Edalene asked, returning to Sabine and tugging upon her sleeve. I wondered at the girl’s parentage; though she and the prince shared a striking resemblance, they could not be full siblings.
Sabine crouched down to Edalene’s eye level. “But if I helped, you would not solve it on your own,” she explained, and Edalene’s lip quivered.
“I believe I can make an exception to the rules, this once,” Adair remarked, and she beamed at Princess Sabine and Adair in turn. It was hard to believe the same man I had seen chatting about women as if they were trophies to be won was also this man who appeared an adoring brother.
Princess Sabine glanced in my direction, where I stood unsure of my place. “I don’t mean to be rude, Lady Maea…”
“I’d be happy to escort Lady Maea through the maze, if she will allow.”
Adair’s eyes fell on me again, and a tingling sensation crept up my spine. I unwillingly thought of our last meeting, and a blush colored my cheeks. Perhaps he thought the same because he smirked. I met his gaze, refusing to be cowed by him.
“If my liege wishes.”
“It would please me greatly,” he said.
Princess Sabine’s brows drew together, but Edalene tugged and goaded her to join her. Sabine had not had the answers I sought, but she was only a piece of the puzzle, and the prince, I hoped, held the solution to my riddle. The prince offered me the crook of his arm, and Edalene grabbed a hold of Princess Sabine and dragged her into the maze, giggling as she did so. Prince Adair and I followed after, and I watched them disappear around the corner.
“I was not aware you had a sister,” I said, thinking to make small talk.
“She’s my half-sister,” he replied.
“Oh.”
“You’re probably wondering at her complexion.” He waved towards the path down which Sabine and Edalene had disappeared.”
“I was. She is clearly not full Danhadine.”
“No, she is half Neaux.”
The revelation was surprising. I did not recall any marriage between Danhadine royalty and Neaux.
“I was not aware we had made marital alliances with Neaux in the last decade.” Or so I guessed the girl’s age to be.
His expression darkened. “We did not. My sister was conceived against my mother’s will at the end of the war.”
Without anything appropriate to say, I remained silent.
We continued in stilted silence for some time. I thought to apologize for broaching such an uncomfortable topic, but the lapse in conversation made the timing inconvenient. The muffled sounds of Princess Edalene’s, as I assumed her to be a princess, and Princess Sabine’s laughter carried over the hedges. In the distance waves crashed against the shore thundering and echoing off the cliff face. Before long our time would be up, and I still needed to ask him for his help.
After a lengthy silence, Adair spoke. “Your eyes are a very peculiar color. I’ve never seen the like before.”
The opening I needed presented itself. “I don’t imagine you would, they’re unique to my family.” My heart pounded in my chest.
“You wouldn’t be a descendent of House Diranel, would you?”
I paused, and excitement rippled through me. He knows! None dared to speak my disgraced family’s name aloud besides Damara and then only in private.
“I am, Your Highness. You possess a long memory for one so young.” I treaded lightly, even if he was familiar with my heritage, it did not make him an ally.
“I prefer you to a
ddress me as Adair.”
“Adair,” I said, tasting his name on my tongue.
He laughed, and I found guilty pleasure in the sound. I chided myself; he was not someone I wanted to become enamored with. It would only end in heartbreak and maybe a belly swelling with a fatherless child. Sabine called out to Edalene, and she screeched in reply.
“And may I be presumptuous enough to call you Maea?”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “I would not be adverse to the sound.” Where did this playful banter come from? It spilled from my lips now as if I had been born to it, perhaps another side effect of my memory loss. Is this the real me, or is the fumbling Maea me? I couldn’t be sure.
“Maea.” His mouth caressed my name, some might consider it inappropriate, but I liked it. The way he spoke, it mesmerized me, and a dangerous thrill raced up my spine from our exchange. Like a child playing with fire, I was bound to get burned. Adair continued, “May I ask you, if you are a diviner, will you be reading people’s dreams here at court?”
“Mayhap.” I needed to turn the conversation, lead him to the answers I needed without giving too much away.
“You saved Sabine with your gift, yet you are hesitant to ply it.”
“Do you doubt my authenticity?” I felt affronted. He had seen firsthand what I could do.
“I will admit I am a skeptic. I put little stock in the unknown; I am more a man of the present, of what is standing before me…”
He paused mid-stride, and I upturned my head to face him. “That is an understandable belief, though I cannot share it. It would go against my very nature.”
“It is hard to doubt when one looks into your eyes, Maea. Perhaps you will show me your way of thinking. I would be honored if you performed a reading for me… I would be your first… at court.”
Modesty bid me blush, and I averted my gaze to the grassy covering beneath our feet. His forthrightness unmanned me. To my simultaneous relief and disappointment, Edalene gave a cheer of triumph from somewhere at the other end of the maze. Prince Adair distracted me, and I forgot my goal. “It appears my sister has found the end of the maze, and with it, my time with you has ended. But we shall meet again, soon.”
Very soon, I hoped.
Diviner's Prophecy (A Historical Romance Fantasy Series) Page 7