Page 155 of Anathema

I unclasped my cloak and walked up to the children, careful not to frighten them. Lifting the garment in offering, I silently asked permission to cover them with it, to which they both nodded. The heavy velvet cloak swallowed both of their small bodies, and I tucked it around them, earning a smile from the little girl, who hid her face in the fabric. It hurt my heart to see them that way, particularly when so many passed by them in luxurious clothes that spoke of wealth. With nothing else to offer, I pushed to my feet and met Rykaia, who waited a few steps ahead of me.

“Spindlings,” she said, nodding toward them. “Their families can’t afford vivicantem, so they have no magic. Without power, they live in poverty.”

“Power determines wealth?” My cheeks blushed with the silly question. Power had always equated to wealth. I knew that firsthand, having watched the governor rule over Foxglove from the comfort of his sprawling manor.

“Unfortunately, yes. And the more useful your skills, the more wealth you acquire.”

“That’s terrible. They don’t really have a chance at all, then.”

“Nope. Not with the greedy elite who squander the vivicantem. You and my brother seem to have a soft spot for Spindlings. He spared one a short while back.” She skidded to a halt and smacked her own face, the odd behavior catching me off guard. “Damn it. I just said I didn’t want to talk about him, and here I am talking about him.”

“Why are you mad at him?”

“Do you know the princess is celebrating her Becoming, and he said nothing of it? Not a single word! I had to find out on my own that he planned to go without me.”

“What is a Becoming?”

“It’s a crude celebration of womanhood.” She kept on, leading me down the road, closer to the shops. “Horrible for the princess, really.”

“How so?”

“Well, she’s expected to offer up her virginity.”

“In front of everyone?”

The question was something of a joke, and I was horror-stricken when she answered, “Well, sort of, yes. It happens in a private room, usually. In the castle, it’d be the King’s coupling room.”

“Coupling room?”

“The room where he takes his mistresses, separate from the royal chambers. As the queen passed not long ago, the king hasn’t yet filled her seat, so to speak, so nothing entirely scandalous going on there.”

“That’s awful. Why would anyone want to celebrate that?”

“Because not celebrating it is bad luck for her. The king doesn’t want to do anything that might negatively impact his sovereignty. However, you and I can find something else to keep us occupied while that goes on.” Her words didn’t fully absorb at first.

“You and I? What do you mean you and I?”

“We are going. This will be the biggest celebration in all of Nyxteros. Everyone will be there.”

“Yes, which makes this a very bad idea.”

“Look around, Maevyth. Not one person has batted an eye at you. You don’t even look like you.” Clutching my wrist, she dragged me to one of the storefronts, where I caught my reflection in the window. I looked exactly as I imagined when I’d palpated my face back at Eidolon castle. The gray hair. The bulbous nose and age lines that put me at about sixty years old. In disbelief, I touched my cheeks, my nose, and turned to Rykaia. “Whose face is this?” I whispered.

“So, you know that I can read minds, yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, impatiently.

“Well, I’m an empath. I also extract emotions, and in doing so, I have a bit of a collection of faces.”

“These are actual people?”

“Well, yes. But I’m afraid it doesn’t last long, so we’re going to need to hustle it along.” Still gripping my arm, she hurried me down the street, passing a variety of shops–bakeries, florist, clockmakers, and an apothecary. Until we eventually came upon a dress shop, through the door of which she hauled me.

Racks of elegant gowns lined the walls. I’d never been in a such a place where one could choose a dress of their liking. Back in Foxglove, the dressmakers took our orders and delivered four to five of the same dresses at a time. Enough to last a year, or two.

“What color would you like?” she asked, perusing through the gowns.

“I really don’t think I should attend this thing. I just have a bad feeling.”

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