Chapter 62
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Mama, shouldn't you be at dinner with Merita, Usoa asked before picking up a piece of bread from the shared plate to dip in the sauce that covered the meat dish.
"Bah!" Euria responded. "That woman acts as if she is the only one losing her dear daughter! I can't listen to another moment of her wailing! All day since you two were out she's been crying. Oh my poor baby! My child! She'll be so alone! As if you weren't going as well! So tonight, I eat with my children." She smiled around the table at them.
"Mama, you shouldn't tease mother so. You know her constitution is weak," Ochoa chuckled as he picked up his wine glass, his laughter making the liquid bubble before he drank. An old wound in the palace. From the moment that her father had married her mother, taking the second wife it was rumored because Merita couldn't have anymore children after Edur, that Esti was a miracle, that it would kill her. It didn't help that Euria had proven to be quite fertile. Next to her twin sat Usoa's younger blood brother, Mitxel, fifteen and ready to prove himself. Her own blood sister Naia a year younger than him sat by his side while the baby, already five, and probably the last child Euria would have, a boy and a dreamweaver, Zorion, rested in Usoa's lap.
She smiled down at him, his fist twisted in her skirts, a frown on his face. Don't be mad, she signed.
I won't see you anymore, he replied, sitting up.
When sister is used to her new home I will come back and visit. And I'm not leaving yet, she smiled.
The child squeezed against her side, some part of him more hers than her mother's. She had cared for the boy, even carrying him tied to her body when he was an infant. Her mother joked that Zorion was Usoa's son and she had just carried him for the girl.
She patted his head and turned back to the table and her dinner. Mitxel and Naia bickered over the meat tray and everything else while Ochoa egged them both on. Her mother reached over and smacked him in the head making the rest of the children laugh.
"Mama! To put your hand on a prince!" he said in mock hurt and offense.
"And I'll do it again! Stop making those two fight! You know the boy isn't as smart as you!" she yelled.
"Mama!" Mitxel nearly screamed, his face, still boy sweet turning red while Naia laughed, falling from her cushion.
"Don't say that, he's worried the breakfast girl will hear you and not want to kiss him again!"
"Naia!" Mixtel yelled this time, throwing a cushion at his sister, hitting her in her face.
Naia immediately began to cry as she balled her fist up and threw it at her brother, the hit landing square on his chin, pushing him back on the floor.
Ochoa roared with laughter as he helped his fallen brother up. "You definitely don't want your little serving girl to know about this!"
"Her name is Gaja," he mumbled, pride completely shattered.
Usoa's mother rolled her eyes, scooping up the spiced vegetables and eating them. "So worried about a girl. You're a prince! Any girl would be happy to lie down for you. But don't take advantage! Be a good man. Treat this Gaja well while you are with her."
"Yes, mama," he said embarrassed that his secret was out.
From the entrance, a serving girl came, her head bowed, a small slip of paper in her hands. She handed it to Usoa without a word and then turned, leaving. Usoa opened the note, the handwriting familiar on the parchment. Meet me at the usual place, at halls dark.
She frowned and ripped the note to tiny pieces, putting the scraps into a small pile on the table.
"Who was that?" her mother asked, curious.
She shook her head. Esti wants my company, she lied.
Her mother rolled her eyes. "You see! It's already started! Listen Usoa, daughter of my blood," her mother started, a clear sign that she should listen to what her mother was about to say. "You are not that girl's maid. You are not her servant. She is not better or more important than you for being the chosen Sorgia. She has no more power than you and no right to treat you as her slave."
Yes, mother, she agreed.
"So somber!" Ochoa snickered. "What is this mood? It's like a funeral! Here, look, let me show you something nice!"
The air shifted as he drew light to himself shaping it in the air to form dancers who spun and floated around them chased by lions. The dancers' dresses rippled and changed into magnificent colors to match the cats who played with them.
Her family began to clap and Naia sang in a strong clear voice. Ochoa matched the steps of the illusion to the beat, his eyes glowing softly, the light spilling from him as he twisted it to his will. He filled the room with his light, creating illusions in every space, dancing animals, jeweled toned winged insects flying between them. A scene befitting the Emperor, a match for the the man who had stolen her scarf. She touched her ear, shivering at the memory of the tickle of his words against her ear.
Ochoa let the magic taper off, the dancers disappearing with their pets, one by one.
"My beautiful son. At least I have you. You are a match for that other, Edur. She named him after your father to please him but you deserve that name. You'll shine brighter than him anyway."
"Hush mother, your words are treasonous. My brother is very capable," Ochoa laughed.
"Treachery? It's treason now to be proud of your children?" she scolded. "Usoa, tell your brother that my words are pride, not treason."
You know how she is, she signed before shoving meat into her mouth.
"Your sister has always been wiser than you," she purred patting Usoa's leg gently.
Ochoa shook his head and the family fell into the familiar conversations between foods. It won't be like this there, she thought, not for the first time that things would be different but these small, everyday things would be the ones that she missed most.
The family finished their dinner, servants came for the plates. Zorion had fallen asleep so Usoa swept his small body up and walked with her mother to her quarters where the boy still stayed to put him to bed.
Euria slipped her arm through Usoa's wrapping them both in her silence. "Daughter of my blood, listen to me. Do not trust that girl. She is just like her mother. I know that you are all raised as siblings, you are, of course, but as wide as the divide between you and the children of your father's third wife, that poor girl, is as wide as the divide between you and the children of his first wife. It would be one thing if she was not a weaver and if that woman had not birthed such a healthy son. Then you and your brother would be the jewels of the palace. Never forget the blood you carry in you. Never forget that we come from across the desert where the dreams and fire border each other. You are a flame, a pure light and worthy of more than Esti ever will be."
She nodded, accepting her mother's words. She knew the woman had come as a bride from one of the cities along the border, that they traded freely with the land that lay beyond the desert through the mystical haze that stood between realms. Her mother had told her that's where the red in their hair come from, that their people and the people of the Realm that bordered them mingled and they carried that fire, clear in their hair.
Her mother patted her arm, yawning and moving away, "Good girl. Put the boy in his bed and you rest. Tomorrow you will need to be ready to entertain most likely. We will see what your father calls for."
She nodded and her mother turned, retiring to her bedroom while Usoa took the child into his own room, just off the side of their mothers. A nursery of sorts, now filled with the toys for a boy, not a baby. They had all stayed in the room at one time, though she barely remembered it. She settled Zorion under the blankets, the desert air chilly at night. Brushing his hair from his forehead she left the room, intent on her next tasks.
She looked down at the dress, the one that he, Lloren had said did not suit her. In the lamp light it was worse, the yellow dulling into shadow almost. There's time to change, she thought making her way back to her own room, the familiar courtyard. She paused to touch the petals of one of her carefully tended flowers.
How did he match this feeling so perfectly, she wondered. Annoyed with herself for thinking of him she hurried into her apartment. The cat met her, wrapping herself around her legs for attention. She bent scratching her head and neck for a moment before moving into her bedroom, the lamps all lit by a servant, the breakfast tray removed.
Sighing she stepped into her room, shrugging out of the dress that he had found so distasteful. Her skin bare she turned to the small basin of water that had been left out for her. She bathed leisurely, washing away the scented oils, leaving her skin light and fresh. Clean she slipped on a dark tunic that left her legs bare below the knee. A worker's dress, the form loose, hiding her figure. The dark color would help her slip through the darker halls without notice. She put on a pair of sandals, lacing them quickly and threw a shawl over her shoulders.
Dressed, she sighed, heading back out into the halls. As she passed, servants hurried through the hall, snuffing the lights save for the main passages or those halls that knew their masters were still about. Much of the Garden would be in darkness which was fine, she had traveled the halls since she was a child, there was nothing to fear. The Hidden Guard would be posted throughout and although they would see her, they had no need to report her movements.
She moved in darkness to avoid the gossip.
She left the Garden and moved through the tiled halls quickly, crossing courtyards and up flights of stairs until she reached the far edge of the palace, the top of the south east tower. She stood, looking out at the desert sky, inky and dark spotted with white stars. The desert stretched, the sand blue and bright for as far as she could see.
My new home is somewhere beyond that, beyond the borders of this realm, through the Third Realm and in the dark, she mused.
"Usoa," a familiar voice called.
She turned to Ferran, his eyes used to the dark, his face clear. A straight nose, wide dark eyes, and a strong chin. Close cropped hair covered his head. She smiled at him.
"My darling," he said, crossing the roof to her, wrapping her in his arms, before pressing his lips, dry, to hers. He pulled away, "You have told them that you are not going, correct?"
She shook her head. I cannot leave my sister to go alone. It is dangerous, you know that, she said. You can come with me, she added.
A darkness came over his face, "You were to tell them that you could not go. That you were otherwise committed!"
But I'm not, you have never asked for my hand, she answered.
"Is that your game? Do you want me ask your father for you? Face the Emperor? And for what? You know he will not consent to that. At best I would be a consort," he sneered.
She sighed. Why did you call me out here?
"To talk to you about us, our future. Make sure that you were staying here with me," he answered.
You must give me a good reason to run away from my duty to please you, she said.
"I keep trying but you put me off," he said slowly wrapping his hands around her hips, pulling her close. He kissed her again, more forcefully this time.
She pulled away, fighting against the frown that tried to stretch to her face. She had not found him displeasing when he first approached her, months back, a few comments in the halls had lead to some meetings. She had enjoyed their time together but recently he had become overbearing, his touch too forceful.
And he had never made her shiver like Lloren in those few moments. Don't think of him, she scolded herself.
"Give me a chance," Ferran said pulling her back, touching her lips with his.
I'm very tired, she said stepping away from him.
"It doesn't have to be you that goes, you know that. They can get one of the girls from the street, she can take a whole group of them to serve her just as well as you can. You should stay here, stay with me," he tried again.
So I can serve you, she questioned.
He grinned, "I'll need to teach you first."
She rolled her eyes. I'll think about it, alright? That was not a good reason to drag me all the way out here this time of night.
"Are you not happy to see me, my sweet?" his voice low as he touched her face.
She forced herself to smile realizing that she would have preferred to enjoy the view alone rather than navigate his advances. She had barely had the the time to sort out her own feelings around leaving, let alone how the man she had allowed to hold for a short time felt.
It's not that, she said. The day has been very long,
He reached for her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her forehead tenderly. "My apologies, I wasn't thinking. Of course, we can talk tomorrow. I was just anxious, now that they're here, that you wouldn't think of me at all."
Don't worry, Ferran, I cannot forget you, she smiled.
"Alright, then, I'll let you get to bed. I'll leave first," he said.
She nodded and turned, exiting the way he had come, leaving her alone on the roof. She turned back to the sand and sky. If I tell father that I want to stay with him then would he let me? Do I even want to stay here or do I just not want to become a servant to Esti?
She had never questioned it, never asked if there were other options but she realized, she would miss so much and she had no idea of the world she would enter once they passed through the realms. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders tighter and breathed in the night air. Will I forget this, she thought as she opened her eyes, searing the memory of it into her mind.
Sighing she turned, leaving the roof, her mind no more settled than it had been before.
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Mama, shouldn't you be at dinner with Merita, Usoa asked before picking up a piece of bread from the shared plate to dip in the sauce that covered the meat dish.
"Bah!" Euria responded. "That woman acts as if she is the only one losing her dear daughter! I can't listen to another moment of her wailing! All day since you two were out she's been crying. Oh my poor baby! My child! She'll be so alone! As if you weren't going as well! So tonight, I eat with my children." She smiled around the table at them.
"Mama, you shouldn't tease mother so. You know her constitution is weak," Ochoa chuckled as he picked up his wine glass, his laughter making the liquid bubble before he drank. An old wound in the palace. From the moment that her father had married her mother, taking the second wife it was rumored because Merita couldn't have anymore children after Edur, that Esti was a miracle, that it would kill her. It didn't help that Euria had proven to be quite fertile. Next to her twin sat Usoa's younger blood brother, Mitxel, fifteen and ready to prove himself. Her own blood sister Naia a year younger than him sat by his side while the baby, already five, and probably the last child Euria would have, a boy and a dreamweaver, Zorion, rested in Usoa's lap.
She smiled down at him, his fist twisted in her skirts, a frown on his face. Don't be mad, she signed.
I won't see you anymore, he replied, sitting up.
When sister is used to her new home I will come back and visit. And I'm not leaving yet, she smiled.
The child squeezed against her side, some part of him more hers than her mother's. She had cared for the boy, even carrying him tied to her body when he was an infant. Her mother joked that Zorion was Usoa's son and she had just carried him for the girl.
She patted his head and turned back to the table and her dinner. Mitxel and Naia bickered over the meat tray and everything else while Ochoa egged them both on. Her mother reached over and smacked him in the head making the rest of the children laugh.
"Mama! To put your hand on a prince!" he said in mock hurt and offense.
"And I'll do it again! Stop making those two fight! You know the boy isn't as smart as you!" she yelled.
"Mama!" Mitxel nearly screamed, his face, still boy sweet turning red while Naia laughed, falling from her cushion.
"Don't say that, he's worried the breakfast girl will hear you and not want to kiss him again!"
"Naia!" Mixtel yelled this time, throwing a cushion at his sister, hitting her in her face.
Naia immediately began to cry as she balled her fist up and threw it at her brother, the hit landing square on his chin, pushing him back on the floor.
Ochoa roared with laughter as he helped his fallen brother up. "You definitely don't want your little serving girl to know about this!"
"Her name is Gaja," he mumbled, pride completely shattered.
Usoa's mother rolled her eyes, scooping up the spiced vegetables and eating them. "So worried about a girl. You're a prince! Any girl would be happy to lie down for you. But don't take advantage! Be a good man. Treat this Gaja well while you are with her."
"Yes, mama," he said embarrassed that his secret was out.
From the entrance, a serving girl came, her head bowed, a small slip of paper in her hands. She handed it to Usoa without a word and then turned, leaving. Usoa opened the note, the handwriting familiar on the parchment. Meet me at the usual place, at halls dark.
She frowned and ripped the note to tiny pieces, putting the scraps into a small pile on the table.
"Who was that?" her mother asked, curious.
She shook her head. Esti wants my company, she lied.
Her mother rolled her eyes. "You see! It's already started! Listen Usoa, daughter of my blood," her mother started, a clear sign that she should listen to what her mother was about to say. "You are not that girl's maid. You are not her servant. She is not better or more important than you for being the chosen Sorgia. She has no more power than you and no right to treat you as her slave."
Yes, mother, she agreed.
"So somber!" Ochoa snickered. "What is this mood? It's like a funeral! Here, look, let me show you something nice!"
The air shifted as he drew light to himself shaping it in the air to form dancers who spun and floated around them chased by lions. The dancers' dresses rippled and changed into magnificent colors to match the cats who played with them.
Her family began to clap and Naia sang in a strong clear voice. Ochoa matched the steps of the illusion to the beat, his eyes glowing softly, the light spilling from him as he twisted it to his will. He filled the room with his light, creating illusions in every space, dancing animals, jeweled toned winged insects flying between them. A scene befitting the Emperor, a match for the the man who had stolen her scarf. She touched her ear, shivering at the memory of the tickle of his words against her ear.
Ochoa let the magic taper off, the dancers disappearing with their pets, one by one.
"My beautiful son. At least I have you. You are a match for that other, Edur. She named him after your father to please him but you deserve that name. You'll shine brighter than him anyway."
"Hush mother, your words are treasonous. My brother is very capable," Ochoa laughed.
"Treachery? It's treason now to be proud of your children?" she scolded. "Usoa, tell your brother that my words are pride, not treason."
You know how she is, she signed before shoving meat into her mouth.
"Your sister has always been wiser than you," she purred patting Usoa's leg gently.
Ochoa shook his head and the family fell into the familiar conversations between foods. It won't be like this there, she thought, not for the first time that things would be different but these small, everyday things would be the ones that she missed most.
The family finished their dinner, servants came for the plates. Zorion had fallen asleep so Usoa swept his small body up and walked with her mother to her quarters where the boy still stayed to put him to bed.
Euria slipped her arm through Usoa's wrapping them both in her silence. "Daughter of my blood, listen to me. Do not trust that girl. She is just like her mother. I know that you are all raised as siblings, you are, of course, but as wide as the divide between you and the children of your father's third wife, that poor girl, is as wide as the divide between you and the children of his first wife. It would be one thing if she was not a weaver and if that woman had not birthed such a healthy son. Then you and your brother would be the jewels of the palace. Never forget the blood you carry in you. Never forget that we come from across the desert where the dreams and fire border each other. You are a flame, a pure light and worthy of more than Esti ever will be."
She nodded, accepting her mother's words. She knew the woman had come as a bride from one of the cities along the border, that they traded freely with the land that lay beyond the desert through the mystical haze that stood between realms. Her mother had told her that's where the red in their hair come from, that their people and the people of the Realm that bordered them mingled and they carried that fire, clear in their hair.
Her mother patted her arm, yawning and moving away, "Good girl. Put the boy in his bed and you rest. Tomorrow you will need to be ready to entertain most likely. We will see what your father calls for."
She nodded and her mother turned, retiring to her bedroom while Usoa took the child into his own room, just off the side of their mothers. A nursery of sorts, now filled with the toys for a boy, not a baby. They had all stayed in the room at one time, though she barely remembered it. She settled Zorion under the blankets, the desert air chilly at night. Brushing his hair from his forehead she left the room, intent on her next tasks.
She looked down at the dress, the one that he, Lloren had said did not suit her. In the lamp light it was worse, the yellow dulling into shadow almost. There's time to change, she thought making her way back to her own room, the familiar courtyard. She paused to touch the petals of one of her carefully tended flowers.
How did he match this feeling so perfectly, she wondered. Annoyed with herself for thinking of him she hurried into her apartment. The cat met her, wrapping herself around her legs for attention. She bent scratching her head and neck for a moment before moving into her bedroom, the lamps all lit by a servant, the breakfast tray removed.
Sighing she stepped into her room, shrugging out of the dress that he had found so distasteful. Her skin bare she turned to the small basin of water that had been left out for her. She bathed leisurely, washing away the scented oils, leaving her skin light and fresh. Clean she slipped on a dark tunic that left her legs bare below the knee. A worker's dress, the form loose, hiding her figure. The dark color would help her slip through the darker halls without notice. She put on a pair of sandals, lacing them quickly and threw a shawl over her shoulders.
Dressed, she sighed, heading back out into the halls. As she passed, servants hurried through the hall, snuffing the lights save for the main passages or those halls that knew their masters were still about. Much of the Garden would be in darkness which was fine, she had traveled the halls since she was a child, there was nothing to fear. The Hidden Guard would be posted throughout and although they would see her, they had no need to report her movements.
She moved in darkness to avoid the gossip.
She left the Garden and moved through the tiled halls quickly, crossing courtyards and up flights of stairs until she reached the far edge of the palace, the top of the south east tower. She stood, looking out at the desert sky, inky and dark spotted with white stars. The desert stretched, the sand blue and bright for as far as she could see.
My new home is somewhere beyond that, beyond the borders of this realm, through the Third Realm and in the dark, she mused.
"Usoa," a familiar voice called.
She turned to Ferran, his eyes used to the dark, his face clear. A straight nose, wide dark eyes, and a strong chin. Close cropped hair covered his head. She smiled at him.
"My darling," he said, crossing the roof to her, wrapping her in his arms, before pressing his lips, dry, to hers. He pulled away, "You have told them that you are not going, correct?"
She shook her head. I cannot leave my sister to go alone. It is dangerous, you know that, she said. You can come with me, she added.
A darkness came over his face, "You were to tell them that you could not go. That you were otherwise committed!"
But I'm not, you have never asked for my hand, she answered.
"Is that your game? Do you want me ask your father for you? Face the Emperor? And for what? You know he will not consent to that. At best I would be a consort," he sneered.
She sighed. Why did you call me out here?
"To talk to you about us, our future. Make sure that you were staying here with me," he answered.
You must give me a good reason to run away from my duty to please you, she said.
"I keep trying but you put me off," he said slowly wrapping his hands around her hips, pulling her close. He kissed her again, more forcefully this time.
She pulled away, fighting against the frown that tried to stretch to her face. She had not found him displeasing when he first approached her, months back, a few comments in the halls had lead to some meetings. She had enjoyed their time together but recently he had become overbearing, his touch too forceful.
And he had never made her shiver like Lloren in those few moments. Don't think of him, she scolded herself.
"Give me a chance," Ferran said pulling her back, touching her lips with his.
I'm very tired, she said stepping away from him.
"It doesn't have to be you that goes, you know that. They can get one of the girls from the street, she can take a whole group of them to serve her just as well as you can. You should stay here, stay with me," he tried again.
So I can serve you, she questioned.
He grinned, "I'll need to teach you first."
She rolled her eyes. I'll think about it, alright? That was not a good reason to drag me all the way out here this time of night.
"Are you not happy to see me, my sweet?" his voice low as he touched her face.
She forced herself to smile realizing that she would have preferred to enjoy the view alone rather than navigate his advances. She had barely had the the time to sort out her own feelings around leaving, let alone how the man she had allowed to hold for a short time felt.
It's not that, she said. The day has been very long,
He reached for her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her forehead tenderly. "My apologies, I wasn't thinking. Of course, we can talk tomorrow. I was just anxious, now that they're here, that you wouldn't think of me at all."
Don't worry, Ferran, I cannot forget you, she smiled.
"Alright, then, I'll let you get to bed. I'll leave first," he said.
She nodded and turned, exiting the way he had come, leaving her alone on the roof. She turned back to the sand and sky. If I tell father that I want to stay with him then would he let me? Do I even want to stay here or do I just not want to become a servant to Esti?
She had never questioned it, never asked if there were other options but she realized, she would miss so much and she had no idea of the world she would enter once they passed through the realms. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders tighter and breathed in the night air. Will I forget this, she thought as she opened her eyes, searing the memory of it into her mind.
Sighing she turned, leaving the roof, her mind no more settled than it had been before.
Mama, shouldn't you be at dinner with Merita, Usoa asked before picking up a piece of bread from the shared plate to dip in the sauce that covered the meat dish."Bah!" Euria responded. "That woman acts as if she is the only one losing her dear daughter! I can't listen to another moment of her wailing! All day since you two were out she's been crying. Oh my poor baby! My child! She'll be so alone! As if you weren't going as well! So tonight, I eat with my children." She smiled around the table at them."Mama, you shouldn't tease mother so. You know her constitution is weak," Ochoa chuckled as he picked up his wine glass, his laughter making the liquid bubble before he drank. An old wound in the palace. From the moment that her father had married her mother, taking the second wife it was rumored because Merita couldn't have anymore children after Edur, that Esti was a miracle, that it would kill her. It didn't help that Euria had proven to be quite fertile. Next to her twin sat Usoa's younger blood brother, Mitxel, fifteen and ready to prove himself. Her own blood sister Naia a year younger than him sat by his side while the baby, already five, and probably the last child Euria would have, a boy and a dreamweaver, Zorion, rested in Usoa's lap.She smiled down at him, his fist twisted in her skirts, a frown on his face. Don't be mad, she signed.I won't see you anymore, he replied, sitting up.When sister is used to her new home I will come back and visit. And I'm not leaving yet, she smiled.The child squeezed against her side, some part of him more hers than her mother's. She had cared for the boy, even carrying him tied to her body when he was an infant. Her mother joked that Zorion was Usoa's son and she had just carried him for the girl.She patted his head and turned back to the table and her dinner. Mitxel and Naia bickered over the meat tray and everything else while Ochoa egged them both on. Her mother reached over and smacked him in the head making the rest of the children laugh."Mama! To put your hand on a prince!" he said in mock hurt and offense."And I'll do it again! Stop making those two fight! You know the boy isn't as smart as you!" she yelled."Mama!" Mitxel nearly screamed, his face, still boy sweet turning red while Naia laughed, falling from her cushion."Don't say that, he's worried the breakfast girl will hear you and not want to kiss him again!""Naia!" Mixtel yelled this time, throwing a cushion at his sister, hitting her in her face.Naia immediately began to cry as she balled her fist up and threw it at her brother, the hit landing square on his chin, pushing him back on the floor.Ochoa roared with laughter as he helped his fallen brother up. "You definitely don't want your little serving girl to know about this!""Her name is Gaja," he mumbled, pride completely shattered.Usoa's mother rolled her eyes, scooping up the spiced vegetables and eating them. "So worried about a girl. You're a prince! Any girl would be happy to lie down for you. But don't take advantage! Be a good man. Treat this Gaja well while you are with her.""Yes, mama," he said embarrassed that his secret was out.From the entrance, a serving girl came, her head bowed, a small slip of paper in her hands. She handed it to Usoa without a word and then turned, leaving. Usoa opened the note, the handwriting familiar on the parchment. Meet me at the usual place, at halls dark.She frowned and ripped the note to tiny pieces, putting the scraps into a small pile on the table."Who was that?" her mother asked, curious.She shook her head. Esti wants my company, she lied.Her mother rolled her eyes. "You see! It's already started! Listen Usoa, daughter of my blood," her mother started, a clear sign that she should listen to what her mother was about to say. "You are not that girl's maid. You are not her servant. She is not better or more important than you for being the chosen Sorgia. She has no more power than you and no right to treat you as her slave."Yes, mother, she agreed."So somber!" Ochoa snickered. "What is this mood? It's like a funeral! Here, look, let me show you something nice!"The air shifted as he drew light to himself shaping it in the air to form dancers who spun and floated around them chased by lions. The dancers' dresses rippled and changed into magnificent colors to match the cats who played with them.Her family began to clap and Naia sang in a strong clear voice. Ochoa matched the steps of the illusion to the beat, his eyes glowing softly, the light spilling from him as he twisted it to his will. He filled the room with his light, creating illusions in every space, dancing animals, jeweled toned winged insects flying between them. A scene befitting the Emperor, a match for the the man who had stolen her scarf. She touched her ear, shivering at the memory of the tickle of his words against her ear.Ochoa let the magic taper off, the dancers disappearing with their pets, one by one."My beautiful son. At least I have you. You are a match for that other, Edur. She named him after your father to please him but you deserve that name. You'll shine brighter than him anyway.""Hush mother, your words are treasonous. My brother is very capable," Ochoa laughed."Treachery? It's treason now to be proud of your children?" she scolded. "Usoa, tell your brother that my words are pride, not treason."You know how she is, she signed before shoving meat into her mouth."Your sister has always been wiser than you," she purred patting Usoa's leg gently.Ochoa shook his head and the family fell into the familiar conversations between foods. It won't be like this there, she thought, not for the first time that things would be different but these small, everyday things would be the ones that she missed most.The family finished their dinner, servants came for the plates. Zorion had fallen asleep so Usoa swept his small body up and walked with her mother to her quarters where the boy still stayed to put him to bed.Euria slipped her arm through Usoa's wrapping them both in her silence. "Daughter of my blood, listen to me. Do not trust that girl. She is just like her mother. I know that you are all raised as siblings, you are, of course, but as wide as the divide between you and the children of your father's third wife, that poor girl, is as wide as the divide between you and the children of his first wife. It would be one thing if she was not a weaver and if that woman had not birthed such a healthy son. Then you and your brother would be the jewels of the palace. Never forget the blood you carry in you. Never forget that we come from across the desert where the dreams and fire border each other. You are a flame, a pure light and worthy of more than Esti ever will be."She nodded, accepting her mother's words. She knew the woman had come as a bride from one of the cities along the border, that they traded freely with the land that lay beyond the desert through the mystical haze that stood between realms. Her mother had told her that's where the red in their hair come from, that their people and the people of the Realm that bordered them mingled and they carried that fire, clear in their hair.Her mother patted her arm, yawning and moving away, "Good girl. Put the boy in his bed and you rest. Tomorrow you will need to be ready to entertain most likely. We will see what your father calls for."She nodded and her mother turned, retiring to her bedroom while Usoa took the child into his own room, just off the side of their mothers. A nursery of sorts, now filled with the toys for a boy, not a baby. They had all stayed in the room at one time, though she barely remembered it. She settled Zorion under the blankets, the desert air chilly at night. Brushing his hair from his forehead she left the room, intent on her next tasks.She looked down at the dress, the one that he, Lloren had said did not suit her. In the lamp light it was worse, the yellow dulling into shadow almost. There's time to change, she thought making her way back to her own room, the familiar courtyard. She paused to touch the petals of one of her carefully tended flowers.How did he match this feeling so perfectly, she wondered. Annoyed with herself for thinking of him she hurried into her apartment. The cat met her, wrapping herself around her legs for attention. She bent scratching her head and neck for a moment before moving into her bedroom, the lamps all lit by a servant, the breakfast tray removed.Sighing she stepped into her room, shrugging out of the dress that he had found so distasteful. Her skin bare she turned to the small basin of water that had been left out for her. She bathed leisurely, washing away the scented oils, leaving her skin light and fresh. Clean she slipped on a dark tunic that left her legs bare below the knee. A worker's dress, the form loose, hiding her figure. The dark color would help her slip through the darker halls without notice. She put on a pair of sandals, lacing them quickly and threw a shawl over her shoulders.Dressed, she sighed, heading back out into the halls. As she passed, servants hurried through the hall, snuffing the lights save for the main passages or those halls that knew their masters were still about. Much of the Garden would be in darkness which was fine, she had traveled the halls since she was a child, there was nothing to fear. The Hidden Guard would be posted throughout and although they would see her, they had no need to report her movements.She moved in darkness to avoid the gossip.She left the Garden and moved through the tiled halls quickly, crossing courtyards and up flights of stairs until she reached the far edge of the palace, the top of the south east tower. She stood, looking out at the desert sky, inky and dark spotted with white stars. The desert stretched, the sand blue and bright for as far as she could see.My new home is somewhere beyond that, beyond the borders of this realm, through the Third Realm and in the dark, she mused."Usoa," a familiar voice called.She turned to Ferran, his eyes used to the dark, his face clear. A straight nose, wide dark eyes, and a strong chin. Close cropped hair covered his head. She smiled at him."My darling," he said, crossing the roof to her, wrapping her in his arms, before pressing his lips, dry, to hers. He pulled away, "You have told them that you are not going, correct?"She shook her head. I cannot leave my sister to go alone. It is dangerous, you know that, she said. You can come with me, she added.A darkness came over his face, "You were to tell them that you could not go. That you were otherwise committed!"But I'm not, you have never asked for my hand, she answered."Is that your game? Do you want me ask your father for you? Face the Emperor? And for what? You know he will not consent to that. At best I would be a consort," he sneered.She sighed. Why did you call me out here?"To talk to you about us, our future. Make sure that you were staying here with me," he answered.You must give me a good reason to run away from my duty to please you, she said."I keep trying but you put me off," he said slowly wrapping his hands around her hips, pulling her close. He kissed her again, more forcefully this time.She pulled away, fighting against the frown that tried to stretch to her face. She had not found him displeasing when he first approached her, months back, a few comments in the halls had lead to some meetings. She had enjoyed their time together but recently he had become overbearing, his touch too forceful.And he had never made her shiver like Lloren in those few moments. Don't think of him, she scolded herself."Give me a chance," Ferran said pulling her back, touching her lips with his.I'm very tired, she said stepping away from him."It doesn't have to be you that goes, you know that. They can get one of the girls from the street, she can take a whole group of them to serve her just as well as you can. You should stay here, stay with me," he tried again.So I can serve you, she questioned.He grinned, "I'll need to teach you first."She rolled her eyes. I'll think about it, alright? That was not a good reason to drag me all the way out here this time of night."Are you not happy to see me, my sweet?" his voice low as he touched her face.She forced herself to smile realizing that she would have preferred to enjoy the view alone rather than navigate his advances. She had barely had the the time to sort out her own feelings around leaving, let alone how the man she had allowed to hold for a short time felt.It's not that, she said. The day has been very long,He reached for her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her forehead tenderly. "My apologies, I wasn't thinking. Of course, we can talk tomorrow. I was just anxious, now that they're here, that you wouldn't think of me at all."Don't worry, Ferran, I cannot forget you, she smiled."Alright, then, I'll let you get to bed. I'll leave first," he said.She nodded and turned, exiting the way he had come, leaving her alone on the roof. She turned back to the sand and sky. If I tell father that I want to stay with him then would he let me? Do I even want to stay here or do I just not want to become a servant to Esti?She had never questioned it, never asked if there were other options but she realized, she would miss so much and she had no idea of the world she would enter once they passed through the realms. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders tighter and breathed in the night air. Will I forget this, she thought as she opened her eyes, searing the memory of it into her mind.Sighing she turned, leaving the roof, her mind no more settled than it had been before.
