by S. K Munt
‘A high compliment from Kohén’s true favourite,’ Martya whispered back, and I raised my eyebrows.
‘You mean, ‘was’?’
But Martya shook her head, glanced over her shoulder and then leaned up to whisper to me: ‘I heard Kohén arguing with his mother last night- he asked for permission to take you to Pacifica with him to see the pineapple plantations and because you’ve never had a holiday- but she said no.’ Martya made a face. ‘I’m sorry, it’s probably an awful thing to know when you already know that it won’t happen but-’
‘He really asked that of her?’ I demanded, surprised beyond measure.
Martya nodded. ‘He was sparking mad after- physically I mean, but she insisted that it was improper and that you’d probably shrivel up after two weeks on a boat. But it must be nice to know that he’ll miss you so, right?’
It was more than nice- it was so wonderful that I felt sentimental tears prick at my eyes. ‘It’s lovely,’ I whispered, and then breathed in deep to calm my suddenly turbulent emotions. ‘And it’s okay that she said no- I would expect no more.’
Martya glanced over her shoulder to the closed bedroom door- then back to me. ‘Actually, I think it’s love.’
I know I must have turned redder than toaster wires. ‘Martya, don’t even suggest that!’ I squeaked. ‘I’m a boy to Kohén! An unattractive one who he regards as a substitute brother and nothing else!’
‘No, you’re not,’ Martya argued back. ‘You’re not a boy to him; I mean- and you’re not unattractive either! When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Larkin? How can you not see how lovely and shiny your hair is, and how flawless your skin tone remains?’ She touched a little red blister at the base of her chin. ‘You don’t get these do you? Not ever. Nor do you suffer from oily hair or bags under your eyes or any of this-’ she grabbed her thigh and jiggled it, letting me see how the skin on the back of her leg dimpled slightly at the touch- then grabbed my thigh and pinched it- and it hurt but did not move. I rolled my eyes and looked away- everyone knew that men liked girls with soft curves- not muscles! ‘Your face looks lovely at every angle, as though light favours you- not like the other girls who have bumpy skin and bad sides and flat expressions. And you’re muscular and-’
‘More of a reason why I look like a boy!’ I argued back, hugging myself. ‘And as sweet as you are being Martya, I’m afraid that Elfin was right about your lenses, for you not to have noticed that I’m the ugly duckling- even Kohén called me that the other week!’
Martya rolled her eyes. ‘Boys tease the girls that they like.’
The idea of Kohén liking me was so ludicrous that I could have giggled. ‘When they tickle them under the chin with a feather perhaps, like he did to Kelia last week- not when they slam them to the ground to get their soccer ball! That’s roughhousing, not flirting!’
‘I’m not blind to your appearance- you are.’ Martya insisted. ‘I’ll admit that you were a bit… startling to look at when you were younger, but you’re not as pale anymore Larkin and now that your face has grown into that mouth of yours-’
‘This is not a conversation I want to be having!’ I snapped, jumping off the bed and avoiding the mirror. Nothing felt funny anymore- nothing at all. ‘Kohén does not find me attractive and saying he does is more mean than friendly now, Martya! I don’t want to be attractive to him, anymore than you do!’
Martya turned and followed me toward the bathroom. ‘No, you don’t want him to take you to bed,’ she said smartly. ‘But if he cares for you so much that he never touches you- well, you’ll be free to leave-’
‘Stop!’ I covered my ears and whirled on her, panicked that she’d voice my plan. ‘Who told you about that rule?’
‘Adeline, of course,’ Martya said quickly. ‘She’s given me all sorts of ideas and I know that marrying Kohén could be plausible-’
‘So that’s your plan?’ I demanded. ‘Steal his heart and evade him physically?’
‘No. I know that I am not pretty enough to outshine everyone here enough to win anyone’s heart,’ Martya said, matter-of-factly. ‘Which is why I intended to pass along this advice to you, but now that I know you’ve already considered it…’
‘I haven’t considered stealing Kohén’s anything,’ I shot back. ‘And I wouldn’t want to! I want to get out of here by making smart choices, and he supports that because he wants me out of here too- not because he wants me to stay!’ I shuddered, hugging myself tight enough to bruise my pale skin. ‘I’d never use him like that, and he has no use for me that wouldn’t have been satisfied if Kohl had stayed in my place.’
Martya sighed and shook her head. ‘For a girl who reads so much romance, you certainly don’t understand it at all!’
‘For someone who reads so much of everything, some very silly things come out of your mouth as far as romance is concerned.’ I pointed at her, flushed so hotly that I could feel a sweat forming on my brow again. ‘I am duckling, got it? Not a future princess. If you want to see if you can marry up then by all means go for it- but if Adeline had any advice to give worth a damn, she would be on the upper level of the north wing, and not the lower in the harem, wouldn’t she?’
Martya made a face at me. ‘Adeline’s in the north wing because she chose it.’
‘That, my dear friend- is the silliest thing you’ve ever said.’ I opened the bathroom door and let myself inside, giving her a stern look. ‘We don’t get choices here- we get options to make the same damn choice from different directions. You scheme, they’ll primp and Kelia will wish her life away- but the only plan I have is to be patient and hope that I escape this palace as a virgin in the very least.’
‘Patience isn’t compatible with a shelf-life that ends at the age of twenty-one,’ Martya said gravely. ‘Especially for one blossoming the way you are. I’m sorry to say it Larkin, but if you don’t intend to steal his heart, you can bet your ass that he’ll rob you of-’
‘Nothing good is compatible with this life- least of all marriage between a prince and an infertile woman, so stop it, please!’ I interrupted her, and then shut the door between us. Once it was closed I turned and leaned against it and found myself staring at Kelia in the mirror. ‘Oh! I thought you were-’
‘Are you in love with the prince?’ she demanded, looking sick, and my eyebrows shot up. THAT was what she’d gleaned from listening in? ‘Oh, Larkin! You don’t honestly believe that this could turn into a fairy-tale for you, do you? That he could care for any of us enough to demand that we become nobility? That you could escape the infertility treatment?’
‘Of course I don’t have feelings for him, or any design on becoming his princess, Lord!’ I snapped, marching up to the sink and turning on the faucet, just to make noise. ‘He’s as much as a girl to me as I am a boy to him and anyone who believes otherwise isn’t half as book-learned as they think they are!’ I shot a dirty look towards the closed door.
‘But he is awfully handsome…’ Kelia mused, and I felt something acidic bubble in my empty stomach. Kelia found him attractive and he’d admitted that she was the most beautiful. I wanted to hope that she’d escape from the castle unscathed as I planned to, but I had read enough romance books to know that the frightened, pretty and dim-witted girl always made the wrong decision. ‘If there’s a chance that there’s a way out of this life-’
‘If there is, then that way isn’t through his heart!’ I took her hand and pulled her to me in a tight embrace. ‘Don’t rush to embrace this life like the others, please, and certainly don’t try and do it thinking that he could make you a princess!’
‘I won’t- I’m not attracted to him at all, not really- he’s too proud and snotty. And I am glad that he’s leaving for a while so I don’t have to worry about him at all.’ Kelia hugged me back tightly. ‘But I’m sick of feeling lonely all the time… so promise me that you’ll play with me again while he’s away, okay Larkin? Even if it means missing time in the garden?’ She pulled back and her eyes were spark
ling with unshed tears. ‘And I’m sorry for what I said about being born nobility-’
‘I know you are, and I’m sorry for holding a grudge for something for so long that we all know is fact anyway.’ I said to her. ‘And as for spending time together- I heard that all of the palace gardens were destroyed this week while I was trying to spend time with Kohén, so I’ll have time for you- I promise. I think Martya and I could both do with a break, anyway.’
She smiled. ‘That is good news.’ She took my hand and squeezed it. ‘Ready to go farewell our prince charming?’
‘Farewell a few months of the girls throwing themselves at him? Yes, please!’ I exclaimed and we walked out of the bathroom together, hand in hand again- and casteless at last.
*
The king tried to act as polite and warm as ever during dinner, but everyone knew that he was upset to learn that seven farms worth of crops had suffered locusts that week aside from ours, and that he was anxious about leaving the kingdom in the wake of such a disaster, so needless to say, his anxiety overcame his charm for most of the meal.
He was physically exhausted too, and I could tell because his eyes had faded from their usually bright blue to the shade of denim that the Blue Collars wore on their work uniforms. The winged pests were everywhere, and because King Elijah had spent himself trying to take care of the bigger farms, his Nephilim energy was now too depleted to cure the problem in his own backyard, which he’d left until last because Eden’s private crops were not as important as the ones that we depended on for trade.
The duchess on the other hand was positively buoyant, as she always was when she was off to visit her long-lost son; so buoyant that she didn’t even seem to mind having to dine with future Companions, who were excited teenage girls and therefore, made more noise than the birds in Eden’s aviary.
The royal family was only allowed to see Kohl as often as other parents’ were- twice a year for two weeks at a time. But because they got to travel such a long distance, delays were inevitable and they’d been delayed for months sometimes. This was a hassle to the king, who had to entrust Arcadia to his twenty-eight year old son while he was gone, but a blessing for Kohén’s mother, who Emmerly swore still went out into the courtyard at night and wept for want of her little boy.
I wanted to feel sorry for the duchess, but how could I? She had four family members left- I had none and she clearly didn’t care.
Kohén was always excited to go to Pacifica, not only because he longed to see Kohl too, but because he’d fallen in love with the islands and their culture. But his countenance was quiet and almost sombre that evening, and though I felt him trying to catch my eye across the table a few times, I kept my head bowed. I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I did know that my pride felt too big to swallow this time. If he still liked me enough as a friend to want me to accompany him, then he could come out and say it instead of being such a, well- boy- about it!
I ended up staring down at my plate for most of the meal, pushing around my honey-soaked carrots (they’d be the last for the season) and feeling awkward. Not just awkward- but annoyed, and fearful that I would lean over and slap Emmerly if she didn’t stop fake crying as she begged Kohén to write her. Crying- right into her napkin! Right in front of the king who looked as embarrassed as his son looked stricken! I knew they were fake tears too, for I’d heard her practicing them when I’d walked into our room earlier. Even the jubilant duchess seemed irked by the spectacle, and Maryah looked like she wanted to crawl under the table.
Karol, on the other hand, had taken the seat beside me and though he kept silently respectful during Emmerly’s breakdown, I felt his body tremble with a chuckle every now and then over her lousy performance. Once, when Emmerly turned to Kohén and sobbed onto his shoulder, I actually heard Karol cough out an actual laugh before he whispered: ‘Excuse me,’ in my ear and then excused himself. I smiled at Martya across the table, wondering if she was as entertained by Karol’s amusement as I, but she was staring at her plate too with a far-off look and not paying attention to Emmerly’s one-woman show or Karol’s exit. It was hard to believe that Emmerly had been raised as a noble’s daughter, for she was an actress, through and through! Rayleigh would have been proud. Well, maybe a touch mortified too...
Kohén promised to write Emmerly, and then swore to Lette that he’d send her photographs of the island dancers, or bring some with him when he returned. He told Kelia, who was seated to his left, to look after herself and stick by Larkin to ‘stay out of trouble’ (a huge joke considering that Kelia was church-mouse quiet) and made her promise not to host any wild parties, causing her to blush and mumble an acquiescence into her own napkin. He then shared a joke with Elfin about sea-sickness (one of those in-jokes that had grown apparently hilarious roots from a prior conversation) and I understood that he was doing his utmost to make us all feel as though we were important to him in some way.
He was seducing them; regardless of how much he’d once abhorred the idea of spending time with any of them but me.
Kohén offered bread rolls to me when Karol returned from wherever he’d gone, and not even the hint of a smile, which convinced me that Martya had been mistaken about his desire to take me with him- he could barely look at me!
‘Is your dinner okay, Larkin?’ Karol asked.
‘It’s lovely,’ I half-mumbled, forgetting all of my training and avoiding eye contact. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘You seem more riveted by its appearance, than interested in actually eating it.’ I glanced over at him, surprised that he’d noticed that I wasn’t really eating, and when Karol smiled at me, I felt my breath catch. He really was handsome. I’d always known that of course but this was the closest I’d ever been to him and I was shocked by the vivid green shade of his eyes that evening. He was a bit of a rake too, which made him a bit of a Rhett.
And a complete louse that preys on slave girls- don’t forget that!
‘It’s lovely,’ I said, spearing a piece of watermelon from my salad and popping it into my mouth. I’d read Gone With The Wind enough times to know how to handle a man like Karol! ‘I’m just pacing myself the way a lady ought to.’
Karol grinned at me, his teeth gleaming, and I was suddenly very sorry that he hadn’t brought any of his own Companions to dinner with him, because I felt like a guppy staring down a shark. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a woman enjoying her food.’
‘Really?’ I managed. I thought of his preferred lover, Adeline, and had to force the rest of the watermelon down. ‘That’s not what the Companion Guideline books s-’
‘Larkin!’ Maryah hissed, cutting me off. I ducked my head in apology, but grinned at the strawberry I went for next and made a big show of stabbing it into my mouth.
‘Sowwy,’ I said, knowing that I’d have my grades docked for the next month for such a stunt, but beside me Karol was laughing again and Emmerly had stopped bawling long enough to glare at me so that made it worth it. ‘I forgot my manners the moment I saw that perfect strawberry.’
‘The guidelines may have to be amended then to allow for the season’s ripest fruit to be enjoyed by those starving for such treats…’ Karol said touching my hair and then leaning across me to pick up one of my bits of watermelon and popping it into his own mouth. I chuckled nervously and shot him a sidelong look. ‘Mmm…’ his green eyes twinkled into mine, and I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me. ‘Delicious.’
‘You’re not starving to warrant eating off my plate, your highness,’ I remarked, tapping his hand with the tines of my fork to get it off my hair. Then I made a show of looking around me before asking: ‘Speaking of which, don’t you have a whole bowl of fruit in the north wing waiting for your ravenous return?’ And Karol’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Oh my goodness…’ Maryah despaired under her breath, but loudly enough for us all to hear it. ‘I’m sorry, your highness-’
‘Larkin’s got a point actually, Maryah,’ Kohén griped shaking his fork at Karo
l. ‘Keep your eyes, hands and mouth to the portion allotted to you and keep them off mine. And Maryah- please do not sit poor Larkin next to Karol again. You teach them to flirt, but she is a poor student of such things and a wise-ass, and he borderline obnoxious, so any conflict that arises from this seating arrangement is on your head- and I will not have Lark berated for handling herself in his company to the best of her ability.’
‘Of course, Prince Kohén,’ Maryah mumbled, dropping her eyes in shame, while I blinked at my annoyed friend, embarrassed and sort of shocked to hear him speak so sharply to someone almost forty years his senior. ‘I apologize for the oversight.’
I stared at my tutor to avoid Karol’s chuckle and the duchess’s sudden scowl in my direction. I was grateful that Kohén had my back, of course, but sort of disgusted to see Maryah weep like a willow. THIS was the resplendent female siren that she wanted us to become? My appetite dissolved and even the few bites of fruit in my stomach suddenly felt like too much to keep down.
‘It’s fine,’ Kohén glared at his brother and I. ‘Eat Lark. And Karol- leave her alone.’ Kohén turned his attention to Martya next the way one would hand out a remaining sliver of pie to an uninvited guest, and Karol bumped his knee against mine beneath the table and whispered:
‘I apologise, little one.’
‘Thank you- a heartfelt apology can sometimes make up for the poorest of manners,’ I said primly, and heard him laugh again.
‘Not for offending you… for the fact that we will never be seated together again.’ And I turned beet-red. I tried to think of a snappy comeback but the duchess was still staring at me, so I kept my head down while Kohén inquired to Martya about how her garden had fared during the plague.
‘My crops survived untouched,’ Martya said in a voice as clear as a bell, causing me to look up ‘Which is a matter I was hoping to raise as soon as the small-talk was done…’ she smiled crookedly at the king. ‘I believe that I’ve finally stumbled upon the right formula to shield crops from locusts.’
