Page 6 of The Scarlet Star

The first flicker of sorrow crossed Heva’s face; her brows tugging in, the corners of her mouth tipping down. “They’ll kill you,” she said. “They won’t listen to you explain or beg for mercy. They’ll force you to spill the names of your loved ones, and then they’ll send an arrow through your back. You’ll be nothing more than a spirit in the wind by morning.”

Bumps formed over Ryn’s arms, and she brushed her fingers along her tight flesh. Yet, still, she said, “I don’t fear death.”

Heva cracked a dull smile. “If that’s true, maybe you’ll survive in the palace after all,” she said.

This time, when the guardswoman took another step to lead the way out of the security building, Ryn followed.

The evening sky was a crystal blue canvas with one last brush of gold lingering from the setting sun. Ryn watched the serpentine white dragon slither back and forth in the high heavens; a gift from the Celestial Divinities. It was meant to guard Per-Siana and watch all its citizens across the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces so the Divinities would know what judgements to bestow upon each person after their death. Ryn never bothered to acknowledge the great judge of the Divinities before now. She thought the dragon wouldn’t spot her among the Per-Siana people. Now, she wondered if all her secrets were written across her face for the great judge to see, and if he would smite her with fire.

She was the last one to board the new silver carriage. She sat in the back row, eyes closed, lips sealed, her heart sinking further and further until it was a weight upon her stomach.Crowds formed at the street sides, cheering and tossing glitter and blossoms that brushed along Ryn’s hot cheeks. She peeked an eye open at them.

A Heartstealer.

There were legends of ancient kings who’d invoked the practice of Heartstealers. It was a courtship system that allowed the three fairest maidens in the kingdom to be rewarded with trials to try and “steal the heart” of the King. The maiden who won the King’s heart would be wrestled into a silver crown and trapped in the palace forever.

Whispers from other maidens lifted from the front of the carriage. Ryn almost put her hands over her ears to drown them out until one said, “I hear the King is handsome. We’ll finally see if the rumours of his striking beauty are true.” A series of giggles followed, and Ryn cringed.

“I’m sure we’ll learn the real story about all that’s happened this year, too. I know he didn’t do it. Our sweet King would never do such a horrid thing!” another maiden chimed in. Everyone knew what “horrid thing” she referred to.

Ryn released a tsking sound and shook her head. These girls. These poor, easily fooled girls. If the King was handsome, why did he hide away in the palace? If he was civil, why did he murder the first Queen? What sort of upbringing made these maidens so naïve? How were they foolish enough to get dressed up and enter the trial period bychoice? Who cared about becoming Queen when they could be murdered in their sleep?

The carriage wheels crunched over the last of the pebbles as they turned onto the smooth Navy Road, and Ryn finally peeled her eyes open. They stung as they adjusted to the brilliant colours of the main street.

The first thing she noticed was all the silver magic in the air—coin-sized balls of light illuminating the path. Her browsfurrowed as heaviness settled on her shoulders like something was pushing her down, trying to crush her body.

Magic. Ryn had felt the effects of it before, but not like this.

The magic was so thick this close to the palace, she could taste hints of metal and sweet, buzzing sparks. She blinked away the dizziness that rushed in as the carriage drew closer and enveloped her into an invisible sea of pressure. The maidens ahead were smiling; none of them affected by the magic, or if they were, they didn’t care.

The Navy Road was a deep blue stone, scattered with crystals to mimic the night sky and to offer praise to the Celestial Divinities—at least, that’s what was preached by the heralds outside the Temple of Nyx by Ryn’s home. The road’s straight line cut through the centre of the Mother City and pointed to the glittering palace whose spokes pierced the heavens with glass, catching the sunset and making the building glow as if consumed by white fire. The glorious structure rested in the exact middle of the kingdom of Per-Siana. The beautiful slaughterhouse where Ryn would die.

Ryn had never been on the Navy Road. She’d never once attended royal parades, or the Festival of Stars, or Celestial revelries, or night dances. She’d never crossed paths with the King, couldn’t possibly have caught his eye. She hadn’t even made friends with anyone outside of Matthias and Theo; Kai’s closest allies. She lived a quiet life at home washing clothes in the stream behind their house and nurturing apple trees. She imagined the orchard would rot without her, and she doubted there were cool streams inside the palace.

Ryn rubbed her sore wrists as she studied the passing alleys between the tall white buildings. Her sandals and gardening boots were back at the house since the Folke hadn’t allowed her to grab them for the journey. But maybe, justmaybe, even withbare feet, she could make it into an alley, and then she could race to…

To where? Ryn studied the unfamiliar glass roofs, the silver towers, and gold sculptures painted with star runes. She’d never find her way home from here without a map. And if she was caught escaping, she’d be tortured like her guardswoman said, and she might give up Kai’s real name.

Ryn swallowed the lump in her throat as the carriage pulled through the great palace gates. They swept by enormous vertical banners with stitched artwork portraying members of theIntelligentsia—the wisest and most elite sage magicians in the kingdom. There were at least twelve of them.

Ryn grabbed the rail of the carriage, her lips peeling apart when she spotted three banners of the maidens. The banner trio depicted young women with lovely, smooth faces and long silhouettes in sparkling gowns; the truest beauties in the land—the same girls sitting in the carriage ahead of Ryn.

She slumped back into her seat. The Heartstealer maidens had already been chosen weeks ago. So, why had the Folke arrived at her door and claimedshewould face the trials?

There was no banner depicting an ordinary, unsuspecting garden girl with a terrible secret. There was no banner of the King either, nothing to confirm or deny the circulating rumours of his beauty. Ryn imagined he was hideous, like his soul.

As the carriage headed across the palace grounds, maidens gasped at glass buildings spearing out from the main palace in the shape of a great star with bridges and balconies ten stories high. Dark silk spilled from the rails, inlaid with starry crystals and flowing in the evening breeze alongside vines of ivy dangling like a vertical garden. There was so much glass, so much marble and silver, and too many depictions of the starry heavens to count. The carriage passed through a small orchard last, andwhen the fragrance of fruit filled the air, something squeezed in Ryn’s chest.

The carriage came to a halt at wide entrance stairs. Folke guards helped their maidens down from the transport one at a time, and the young women tapped their way up the staircase into the tall, gaping mouth of the palace.

Heva stood at the bottom of the carriage with her arms folded. Ryn paused, wondering if she was supposed to wait for her guardswoman to take her hand and guide her down the steps like the other guards had.

Heva shot Ryn a look when she realized. “Do you want to hold hands or something?”

Ryn made a face and climbed from the carriage on her own, jumping off the last step and wobbling when her feet hit the dirt. “Aren’t you supposed to protect me?” she mumbled, barely loud enough for her guardswoman to hear.

“Protect you from what? A few scrapes on your way down?” Heva grunted. “You’re already covered in those.”

Ryn glanced at her arms where tiny cuts speckled her elbows, leftover from being pulled out from beneath her bed. Fresh bruises were blossoming over her wrists from wrestling against the guards too. Even the shoulder of her dress was torn.

---