Page 3 of Glass and Bone
His plain brown eyes are wide and glowing, a perfect contrast to his flushed cheeks and overly wide grin. His equally mundane chestnut hair is disheveled with an uneven crown resting on his head. Dark stubble covers his jaw and upper lip. His tunic and pants are wrinkled, messy. He looks as if he hasn’t had much sleep, probably the result of another night filled with women and wine. He’s pale, more so than usual, as if the years are finally catching up to him. Despite his disheveled state, he’s excited,elated.
His shoulders are high, his spine straight and tall. A wild gleam sparks in his eyes as his lips part, revealing straight, white teeth. I can almost hear his pulse pounding throughout the room as adrenaline fueled excitement radiates from him almost as strongly as the stench of sex and alcohol.
“Elaenor, it’s time. Get dressed.” He barks as my ladies file in behind him, their faces filled with worry. They’re refusing to make eye contact with me, a sign that something is wrong. They glance at each other, biting their lips and fidgeting. My father bends down and throws an ivory dress in my direction, nearly smacking me in the face.
“Father, time for what?” I glance around as my clothing and belongings are methodically making their way into the luggage, faster than if I were to do it. He means it’s time to leave. My hand flies to my mouth as realization sets in, the dress dropping to the floor in slow, billowy movements. My chest tingles and it feels as if my stomach is filled with rocks.No. I nearly stumble, my legs threatening to give out. I had a week left. A whole week to either find my way out of this or come to terms with the idea of being someone’s wife.
“King Evreux is sick; Tobias is set to be crowned the second he passes. You need to be wed before that happens if you wish to be their queen.” He gives me a crooked smile, his white teeth peeking through his pale lips, his eyes widening into a look that does nothing but radiate superiority. His ruddy complexion deepens, and I swear he looks more like a mad king every single day. His plan is falling into place. I can see the impending power rushing to his thick head. The lands and fortune he is no doubt cataloging internally. The anticipation he feels is no match for the fear building inside me. One more week of freedom before I would be forced to marry a man I don’t know, is just ripped away.
“Father, I am only 17. I have one more week,” I try to plead, my voice wavering, but the warning in his eyes is enough to stop me in my tracks. I shut my mouth, clenching my teeth.
He takes two large strides towards me and his narrowed eyes trail down my body, making me shiver under his uncomfortable gaze as I’m reminded I am still in my nightgown. He almost looks proud of what he sees. His calloused hand grips my shoulder as he looks me up and down, his eyes snagging on the thin silk covering my breasts for just a moment before he meets my gaze. I force my racing pulse to steady as I suppress the urge to wrap my arms around myself. A flush creeps along my cheeks at his closeness and I try to keep myself from flinching from disgust.
“You have a duty, Elaenor. Your duty is to produce an heir as fast as possible. Let him have you before the wedding, it won’t be a sin if he is to be your husband. It is your job to produce a son, one your mother failed to do.” Disappointment pours from his eyes, his nose wrinkling and lips curling, as I let my own gaze fall. My arms protectively encircle around my stomach as his fingers dig into my flesh harder, no doubt causing more bruises to join the others he left on my body. I press my lips as tightly together as I can to keep myself from speaking my mind. That only ever ends in pain.
I remember the countless fights my parents had after my mother endured yet another miscarriage. Her pain and agony as she pushed the lifeless infants out of her body time and time again, only for them to be taken away before she could say goodbye. Their little bodies burned as the menders worried they were cursed. The continuous loss was causing her dark hair to pale earlier than it should have at the young age of twenty-seven, and by time she died it was nearly all white. She sought out the help of countless masters and menders, that’s how she met the prophet who later became her closest confidant. My father never forgave her, blaming her as the sole reason he doesn't have a son. The sole reason his kingdom is at risk of falling under a new ruler.
“Don’t fail me, Elaenor. You're not worth a penny of what I provided as a dowry unless you give Chatis an heir.” The venom in his tone makes me flinch, but it shouldn’t. That is the voice that I have come to know.
I shouldn’t be surprised; I always knew I was nothing more than a tool to him. Women can’t hold power here, can’t hold a kingdom. If my father were to pass, the kingdom, my home, would go to whoever the court decides, or whoever fought for it and won. I would lose everything. The people of Chatis could possibly lose everything. This isn’t about my happiness, it’s about the lives of our people. They are the ones I need to consider when I contemplate running away, but my selfishness peeks through quite often.
I wonder whyIhave to endure so much for everyone else, why these choices are not my own, but fate is fickle.
“Yes, Your Grace.” I whisper, my eyes still fixed onto the stone floor. Despite the lengthy monologue I wish to scream at him, nothing will make a difference. Any day now, I will wed Tobias and become a princess to Noterra. I inwardly sigh, letting my frustration and defeat be suppressed by the act of being the dutiful daughter.
His fingers release my shoulders as they slide down my arms slowly, sending a chill down my spine. I keep my eyes cast down, afraid to look him in the eyes and see what he’s thinking. He has always looked at me like I was a piece of meat. It didn’t help that everyone said I was identical to my mother and didn’t resemble my father in any way, appearance, or personality. I guess I should be grateful for that.
With one last look of anticipation, he turns on his heels and walks out, his leather shoes loudly hitting the stone floor. “You leave by noon.” He snaps as he crosses the threshold and disappears out of sight, no doubt off to find another courtesan to bed before he has to see me off. I only hope he does me the courtesy of foregoing that tradition. His face is not the last I wish to see before I depart.
A small shudder forces me to close my eyes and take a deep breath. My nails dig into my arms as I hold them tight against my body. There is no discussion to be had here and breaking down now won’t change anything. The last week of freedom I had was ripped away by a foreign king’s illness. Fear of what is coming fills my body. Fear of the man Tobias has become and what he will expect of me. Fear of the unknown world I will soon be entering. I’m not ready, but that little detail means nothing to the men who control my life.
I guess I should be grateful I am leaving. I should be happy that I will no longer be in the presence of the king, but I knew what to expect of him. What his favorite punishments were, his schedule, how to navigate this court without being seen. I won’t have that in Noterra, and I doubt I will have much time to learn.
I won’t be a secret there; I will be their queen.
Chapter Two
I leave the packing to my irritatingly silent ladies as I abandon my room. They refused to say anything and instead each kept a soft, sympathetic smile plastered to their face and their eyes averted, which is unlike them. At least out of the three of them, Scarlett is the least likely to keep her mouth shut. So I was surprised that she, too, shut me out.
I dressed quickly, throwing my unruly hair back into a braid before stepping into the hallway. While I feel like I should assist, they are usually more organized than I am. Admittedly, I also just don’t want to do it. I don’t have much time left here in Chatis, so I want to see it one last time. I made myself a promise that I would do thisonething before I leave.
I want to visit the Delaquar and see the trees all before I am ushered into a new kingdom.
I exit my room and the usual guards are patrolling the dim hallways. Their silver armor sparkling against their green tunics and pants. Swords of extreme length that have never seen battle are strapped to their sides, their hilts glowing a pale silver. They each have a deep, emerald cloak strapped to their chest plate, flowing behind them like a lush blanket of grass. They barely spare me a glance, but I give them a nod anyway and turn right, heading to the stairs.
There isn’t much color in the Chatis palace as the walls and floors are made from dark gray sheetrock. The only color that seems to be present is the green of the moss, grass and trees and the golds and oranges of the torches lining the corridors, softly illuminating the area. The country's color is deep green, but they rarely decorate with it at the capital. I guess the grass and trees are enough greenery for everyone.
The grand staircase is an intricate combination of dark granite and stone with gold and bronze filigree, much like the ceilings. I always loved to stare at the tiny detailing of crowns and flowers pressed into the stone with thin metal wire. It took my ancestors years to complete all of the accents hidden in the stone. It was time well spent. I’ve lived here for almost 18 years, and I still find a new detail I missed every now and then. I faintly remember my mother yelling at me as I took a small blade to the stone, trying to see if the wire was able to come off. I had no reason other than a child’s curiosity, but to my surprise, it didn’t budge. It was as if they were fused together with time.
I rest my hand on the smooth railing as I slowly make my way down, my sandaled feet softly hitting the stairs. The foyer is empty, which is unusual. Usually a hoard of servants are bustling about this early in morning, but I do find myself welcoming the silence. The center stone table, made of the same material as the palace, lay empty in the center of the room. A single glass vase filled with water sits in the middle. Usually it is overflowing with the flowers growing in the gardens, but for once, it is empty, like me. My fingertips slide across the cold, glass rim, the water inside vibrating with the touch.
The palace was crafted out of thick, gray stone that absorbs any color and light. Half of the palace was constructed inside the mountain, making it partially hidden and windowless. It was done so the mountain itself wouldn’t have to be altered, but instead of creating a fortress, it felt more like a dungeon. It didn’t help that the only color the king kept was the metallic accents in the walls. Nothing else to create a homey, comfortable place to live. It was the perfect embodiment of the cold, callous heart made of stone living in my father’s chest, and his father before him.
The only exception to the darkness of the palace is my room. My bedding is a pale white with beautiful beige furs. The curtains are a light blue, like the color I always imagined the sky to be. The floor is covered in plush rugs and carpets to stave off the chilly air that seems to always be present. I also try to avoid gray in my wardrobe, but the clothing that continuously appears in my dressing room is usually shades of black and ivory. Clothing is just another way for my father to control me.
I step around the table and through the open double doors. I shut my eyes and take a slow, deep inhale as I absorb all the scents I will miss. The thick humidity is the perfect breeding ground for moss and grass. The entire kingdom is covered in a lush green and a rich smell of foliage and flowers. My eyes open and I stare up at the sky. The ever-present blanket of clouds covers the sun, casting a dark shadow over the palace, but for once, I don’t see rain threatening to ruin my day.
Mylastday.
