Page 37 of The Sun God's Prize
“What can I do?”Is there a chance I don’t have to fight after all?Can I appeal, perhaps, to the Sun God himself?The thought never crossed my mind, but it does now.
She’s shaking her head, frowning now, staring at the carpet beneath her.“We need to make this a real show, an epic event.Daughter of War, Princess of Heald.”She spreads her hands in the air above her as though picturing the crowd chanting those words.
There will be no appeal to the ruler of this land, then.“I plan to win my freedom,” I tell her.
“Yes, of course,” she says like that’s not a surprise to her at all.Then her head snaps up and she flashes me a vicious grin that’s full of fire.“Leave it with me.”
“Yes,mistresse,” I say, bowing to her.
She laughs, breathless again.“I should bow to you.”
“Never,” I say, and leave, wondering what this spark I’ve lit might set ablaze.
It’s only fair I warn Brem and the others, though when I finally find our quarters, they’re too wound up to listen, showing me the cupboards filled with new clothing and trinkets and already imbibing the alcohol offered to them, casks of it set out in the central seating room, the overstuffed cushions and pillows as extravagant as the rest of this place.
I take a moment to settle in the room I’ve been given, noting it’s exactly the same as my old one, if bigger, the mattress just as firm and made from the same spun fabric, the tall basin tub made of tile instead of wood.I check into the bathing room, but there’s no pool, just our armor instead, set out and racked with Prenese puttering as she arranges everything just so.
“Bottom floor,” Brem says at my elbow when I tsk over the absent salt pool I’ve come to rely on and enjoy so much.“What happened?”
“Ask me tonight,” I tell her, letting her show me where the vast, underground soaking pool awaits, held in perpetual twilight with a few twinkling lanterns to show the way.I find that once I adapt to the change, I approve of the echoing quiet, how whispers barely carry in the salt-filled air, and that the dimness is much more conducive to meditation in floating than the light.
Still, I realize I’m jealous of sharing it with strangers, and now that I note there are others the dark already using it, I’m irritated and out of sorts.
Yes, blame your unease on the pool, Remalla, and not on the pending reveal that is about to come out, in the grandest of ways if Romouth’s excitement is any indication.
What have I done?It won’t be the last time I’m hovering on the edge of regret that day, I’m sure of it.
Night has fallen and I’m still unsure of what mymistressehas in store, though I’ve not told Brem as of yet, and need to find the courage to do so.Why it’s so hard, I’m not sure.Will she think differently of me?Silly, since I’m in the same position as her, as I have been all along.Nothing has changed.Then why this shyness, this reluctance to tell her who I really am when she’s shared so much of herself already?
We’ve eaten while I debate, the large dining area used in cycles by the hundreds ofgladattewho have begun to fill the Dome of the Sun, some of the women lingering to meet with and talk to fellow fighters while I return to our quarters.I’m about to just get it over with and blurt the truth to Brem when a commotion stirs near the doorway, and the rest of our stable returns in a rush.
“She’s here!”Morinthi’s excitement is mirrored by the rest.
“She’s coming!”Hloraine is just as gleeful, trembling when she hugs her partner.
I look down at Brem, who’s grinning.
“You’ll see,” she says with a wink, even as a woman sweeps through the entryway with a huge smile on her face.I take in the middle-aged and yet still beautiful woman, her long hair trailing after her, woven into giant golden rings, dark eyes lined heavily in black, a single massive gold hoop hanging from one ear, a thin chain connecting it to a sparkling diamond gem in her nose.She spreads her arms, the white, gossamer fabric of her open sleeves billowing out to the gleaming cuffs at her wrists, full pantaloon legs caught at her ankles with delicate bands of gold.I swear she has gemstones embedded in her finger and toenails, and even her dusky skin sparkles as though brushed with crushed diamonds.
“My darling ones,” she says in a high-pitched voice, “welcome back to the Dome of the Sun!”
“Rae!”They call out that title as if in one voice, all of the women sweeping into deep bows that I quickly mimic, caught off guard but hoping she didn’t notice.This then, is our patroness, the owner of our Dome and stable.How had I failed to realize she would, of course, be making an appearance?
I’m a little distracted, I suppose.
“Yiratille Rae.”Romouth enters behind her, towering over her but visibly deferential.“We are honored and delighted by your visit before the fighting begins.Your presence ensures our victory.”
“Roma,” she says in a sweet voice, turning to reach up and cup the big warrior’s face in her small hands.“You do me no favors puffing up my ego like that.”She laughs again, clapping her hands under her chin and taking in each and every one of us, singularly, seeing us, until she reaches me.“A new fighter!”She squeals and comes to me, grasping my hands, turning me this way and that.There are lines around her eyes, and my guess at her age wasn’t accurate because distance and the makeup she wears softened the truth, but she’s well over forty, though without a single silver strand in her dark hair.But her deep, brown eyes are kind, and she’s truly adorable when she beams at me as though she’s a child.“Roma, you held out on me.”
“I have, beloved Rae,” the big warrior says.“May I introduce to you, Princess Remalla of Heald, the War Queen’s daughter.”
And that wasn’t how I wanted Brem to find out, was it?Too late to do anything about it, now, not with Yiratille Rae squealing all over again, ending in a gasp and a half-step back, eyes huge as she stares at me in a mix of horror and awe.
“Surelynot,” she says.
“I attest to it personally,” Romouth says.“Jhanette of Heald’s only child, in your stable, fighting for your glory.”
“How did I get so lucky?”Yiratille shakes her head and exhales a little heaving breath, both hands falling to her chest while she pants a little.“You were right to keep this a secret, my darling Roma.”Her laughter peals like a set of bells through the silence in the room.No one speaks, but they all stare like they’ve never seen me before, like nothing we’ve come through in the last few weeks happened at all.And now I do regret not telling them, because the connection is broken, snapped in two by the truth I chose to keep to myself.
