Tied to the Crown

by Neha Yazmin

  Aaryana was finishing her breakfast on Friday morning when a page came to her rooms with a summons to the Throne Room at eleven o’clock. I wonder why. She was supposed to join the King and his Court for all three meals in the dining hall these days, but elected to have breakfast in her room every day. She needed that little break from Court life. Besides, it provided her a great opening when she turned up at Court later: “So, ladies, what did I miss at breakfast?” Women fell over themselves to fill her in.

  The day after the King had tasked Aaryana and Wyett to investigate Rozlene’s abduction, he officially introduced her to the Court. As Lady Aaryana. Rozlene and Erisa hadn’t been present, with Rozlene still recovering from the trauma of being taken by the rebels, so Lady Lisbeth had taken Aaryana under her wing and got her acquainted with the other Ladies.

  When Aaryana joined them for walks in the garden, for lunch and dinner, the women were very forthcoming with the gossip. Who fancied one of the guards. Who was caught leaving their rooms late at night. Who wanted to seduce the King. Who hoped to marry Wyett. But they spoke of nothing hinting at knowledge about the spies in the castle or who might have had a hand in Rozlene’s kidnapping.

  Each night, King Keyan told her that she was close, that the women would reveal their secrets once they got to know her better. “It helps if you divulge one or two secrets of your own,” he’d advised.

  Aaryana had agreed immediately, but had no intentions of following through. She didn’t have many secrets—she never had—and the ones she did have were not for sharing.

  Last night, the King had asked Wyett to stay behind after their debriefing. She wondered whether he’d told his son to share some of his secrets with the men of the Court.

  Aaryana drained her tea cup—her fourth one this morning; she needed something to wake her up and keep her awake, her body still adjusting to no longer working nights—and went to her bedroom to change. Jeena had found her a few dresses to wear to Court this week, and was laying out today’s outfit on her bed. It was another simple but elegant gown, no frilly skirts and no low necklines.

  It was a small mercy that Aaryana didn’t have to wear dresses with overbearing skirts and jewelled bodices that poked at the skin like the ladies did in her father’s Court. Well, Leesha’s Court now. It would have been better if Aaryana could just wear a shirt and pants, but those days seemed to be behind her now that she was no longer a guard.

  Jeena helped her dress and curled her hair. The girl was still only speaking to her when necessary, just as fixed in her ways as Quin was. Aaryana had tried to mingle with the young Princess these past few days, but the girl always remained seated on the dais or declined to join Aaryana and her new ‘friends’ for tea and walks. She wasn’t rude, but rather wary of Aaryana. She was a lot younger than the other women, so that didn’t help.

  There was still an hour until she had to be at the Throne Room, so she decided to visit the library. She had been going there every free moment she had this week, trying to find books about Nidiya and the Fresdan curse, anything that might help her with Seth’s cure before she next met with Micah’s mother. So far, she hadn’t found anything. But the library was huge; she couldn’t give up just yet.

  Wyett sat on his throne on the dais with his family, watching the Courtiers flood into the room. This year, there would be fewer people picking their icons, a smaller ball, and he couldn’t express just how relieved he felt about it. He wouldn’t have to dance with nearly as many people as in previous years, wouldn’t have to kiss as many hands. It would be tolerable this year.

  But then she walked in and he remembered what his father had said. Wyett would have to dance with the Adgari, and that was worse than dancing with every single woman on the Island.

  He had become accustomed to watching her discreetly over the past week, observing how she interacted with the other women. Today, as she had been all week, the girl walked up to Lady Lisbeth and her crowd and began chattering away.

  A few moments later, the group turned towards the door. Wyett looked, too. Rozlene and Erisa were entering the room, brave expressions on their faces. Mother and daughter had kept to their quarters all week, but Wyett wasn’t surprised that they’d turned up to pick their icons. It was tradition.

  Lisbeth and her friends gathered around the two women, their voices rising slightly. His father didn’t acknowledge their return. It was that Rozlene to forgot what happened. Her friends were no doubt asking her about the ordeal now, and it wouldn’t help her move on if the King addressed it in front of everyone.

  The clock struck eleven and the room fell quiet.

  The King rose to his feet. “Thank you everyone, for arriving on time,” he said to the room. “I can see that you’re all eager to pick your icons, so let’s not waste any time and just get on with it.”

  He turned to Quin and she stood up, smiling. She held the lidded chest containing the icons in her hands like she was carrying their father’s Crown. It was definitely as big as the velvet cushion that the Crown sat on when the King wasn’t wearing it.

  His sister climbed down the steps, walked towards the crowd, and stopped in front of the person closest to the dais. It was Lisbeth—she’d manoeuvred her way to the front of the room. Quin lifted the lid of the chest and Lisbeth drew circles in the air above the three velvet pouches that housed the icons. Then, she plunged her hand in and grabbed a pouch.

  The icon she picked turned out to be one she ended up with more often than not: The wings. Everyone cheered and clapped. The Adgari frowned, confused. Lisbeth stowed the wings back into the pouch and dropped it back into the chest. Quin closed the lid and gave it a shake, jostling the three identical pouches inside the box.

  Quin went to the next person, and then the next, the Courtiers picking their icons and putting them back in the chest after showing their friends what they’d picked out. His sister had been doing this since she was strong enough to lift the wooden box, and still seemed to enjoy it as much as the first time. Funnily enough, Quin seemed to be keeping clear of where the Adgari stood. Wyett felt a sense of satisfaction. His sister didn’t like the girl, either.

  Half the room had picked their icons when his father’s secretary hurried into the room. Wyett hadn’t been surprised that the man had been late; the King kept him very busy. Some members of his staff that were invited to the birthday ball didn’t always make it to this ceremony because they were tied up. Quin usually sought them out afterwards so they could pick their icons.

  Surprisingly, the secretary walked up to the King, handed him an envelope, and whispered something in the King’s ear. His father nodded at the man and turned to Wyett.

  “Wyett,” he said, “I have something I need to look into.” The letter in his hand, most likely. “Take care of this for me.” He gestured to the people in the room.

  “Of course, Father.”

  The King nodded at him and hurried down the steps. Wyett was expecting him to leave the room and was stunned still when he saw him walk towards the Adgari instead. She was about to bow to him when the King said something that made her eyes widen. Wyett read his father’s lips: Come with me, please. But his tone must have been such that the girl’s face lost all colour.

  Not waiting for her to follow, he left the room. She squared her shoulders and went after him.

  Wyett turned to Seth. “Hold the fort, will you? I just need to check on something.”

  But his little brother had clearly been watching his father, too, and jumped to his feet when Wyett did. “I’ll come with you.”

  Wyett didn’t have time to argue. He didn’t want to miss a single second of what might conspire between his father and the girl and the two brothers walked briskly out of the Throne Room. They fell into line behind their father’s guards, the Adgari just a step behind the King. Quickly, it became obvious that they were heading for his private office. Seth raised an eyebrow at Wyett in question. Wyett shrugged. He had no idea what this was about.

  The bodygu
ards weren’t asked to enter the King’s office as he walked inside with the Adgari. Wyett thought that was very reckless. This situation called for the presence of guards! What was his father thinking, letting himself be alone with her? The two Princes barrelled through the door before the girl could close it behind her. She stepped back, surprised.

  “What is it, Father?” Wyett demanded, walking up to his father’s desk.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Seth pleaded. “I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding.”

  His brother went to stand beside her, just as protective of her as she claimed to be of him. Were the two of them sneaking around together, getting closer, despite Wyett’s warning?

  Their father sighed heavily as he sat down. “Will the two of you leave if I ask you to?” He sounded exasperated and defeated.

  His sons stood their ground.

  “Fine. This is what happened.” He shifted his gaze to the Adgari and said, “I received an anonymous message yesterday that you smuggled a letter onto the seabird. Intended for a friend back in Adgar.”

  She didn’t respond, her head bowed.

  “I didn’t believe it. I said to myself, ‘Aaryana knows that it’s forbidden for an exile to contact anyone back home. She knows she’d be breaking my trust if she did something so reckless. She knows how severe the punishment would be if she was caught.’ I didn’t think you’d be so stupid. But here it is, your letter.”

  He dropped the envelope on his desk.

  The girl didn’t move. She was cornered and she knew she couldn’t talk her way out of it. It was clever of her to stay silent; anything she said would be used against her. Wyett would use it against her.

  “You dared to smuggle it onto the ship that my son is sending to Adgar to verify your identity. I am not only angry but terribly hurt that you betrayed my trust. What were you thinking?” The King shook his head.

  The girl kept her head down, kept quiet. The silence stretched.

  “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Wyett barked, unable to keep the words in any longer. How disrespectful of her to stay silent when the King was addressing her directly.

  She looked at Wyett, finally lifting her head. “It’s not—it’s nothing, Your Highness.” She turned to his father. “Your Majesty, I’m so sorry for hurting you. Punish me as you see fit.”

  “The punishment is death,” the King said, his eyes flashing. “You know that. You knew that.”

  The Adgari didn’t say anything. Was she accepting the punishment—death—so easily?

  Seth stepped up to the desk. He seemed shaken, afraid. “Father, you can’t—it’s just a letter. What harm—we’ve got it now, we’ll keep it. Just don’t—please forgive her.”

  “It is just a letter,” the King agreed. “But it’s forbidden.”

  “But she says it’s nothing,” Seth said with a plea in his voice. “What harm could a letter to Adgar do to us in Roshdan? What could it possibly say?”

  Then, quick as a flash, Seth snatched the envelope from the desk and began to rip it open.

  “No, Seth!” The Adgari leaped forward and tried to snatch the envelope.

  Seth stepped away from her and Wyett blocked her path to his brother. “Don’t touch him,” he growled at her. “Stay back. You risked your life to send this letter. You’re willing to die for it now. I think we should hear what it says.” He flashed her a dangerous smile.

  She turned her back to the three of them. Wyett turned to his brother. Seth had taken the letter out of the envelope.

  “Father?” He was asking if he should read it out loud.

  The King took a long moment to consider it. Then, he nodded. Seth cleared his throat as he pulled out the parchment and unfolded it.

  “My dear Rudro,” he read.

  The man’s name made all three Royals raise their eyebrows.

  “Do you still remember my last day in Adgar? I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. I did. I do.”

  Seth looked up from the letter and stared at the girl’s back. She was stiff, motionless.

  His brother licked his lips before continuing. “But I wanted you to forget me and move on with your life, and not drown yourself in memories of me. Why am I telling you this now? Because I can’t bear for you to carry on believing a lie. And yet, I must urge you to move on.”

  Seth paused to inhale deeply. He was clearly moved by her words. Wyett recalled how she’d been staring at a blank piece of parchment when he’d gone to her room earlier in the week. These were the words she was searching for?

  “I am never coming back,” his brother went on. “I have found myself a good job, and my employer is someone that I regard as highly as my father, the King.”

  The two Princes glanced at their father, the subject of the letter now.

  “He is someone I am proud to work for, and I will do everything in my power to never let him down. I’m sorry for hurting you that day, Rudro, but I only wanted you to be free of me and my memory. I want you to read these words now and set yourself free. Aaryana.”

  In the silence that followed, Seth stared at the Adgari’s back and Wyett watched his father. The King seemed to be deep in thought.

  “Aaryana, turn around,” he ordered after what felt like minutes. She obeyed at once. “Who is this Rudro?”

  “I am so sorry for what I did, Your Majesty, I will accept whatever punishment—”

  “You will answer my father’s question,” Wyett snapped. “Not ignore it.”

  “He is nobody, Your Majesty. Not anymore,” she said with urgency. “Writing that letter set me free, too.”

  “Truly? You swear it?” the King asked, brows furrowed.

  “Truly, Your Majesty.” Her voice was soft but certain.

  “Well, I cannot deny that I wasn’t moved by your words, and by how highly you think of your place in my Court.” The King leaned back in his seat. “And you didn’t mean any harm with that letter, only to help someone. Repair the heart you’d broken.”

  “And to break it again,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, that, too. But your intentions were good. I—I can’t blame you for wanting to reach out to this Rudro. Nor can I think of a reason why this letter shouldn’t be delivered.”

  “Majesty?” she gasped.

  “What? No!” Wyett protested at the same time.

  “That’s a great idea,” Seth announced, beaming.

  “But, Father, the law—”

  “And I won’t break it, Wyett,” his father assured him. “The letter can be from me—I’m not forbidden from writing to anyone. It needs a new envelope, anyway.” He shrugged.

  “But why? Why are you doing this?” Wyett shook his head.

  “Because,” the King said, “loving someone that has left you behind closes you off from love and life.” He was talking about himself. He hadn’t been the same since their mother died. “If you could urge someone to move on and live, why shouldn’t you?”

  Wyett threw up his arms. “So, you’re rewarding her for betraying you and breaking the law instead of punishing her?” He couldn’t believe his father was being so irrational!

  “Oh, I’ll be punishing her, be sure of that. Which is what I need to discuss with Aaryana now. Seth, Wyett, leave us.”

  The King was weaving her letter around his fingers. The letter she’d written for the rebels to sneak onto the ship sailing for Adgar. She composed it on the day Wyett had come to her room to take her for a walk. In fact, she’d written it just before departing for that walk, leaving the envelope on the low table in the lounge. In plain sight. An experiment, to see how closely she was being monitored by Micah’s spies in the castle. When she’d returned to her room, the letter was gone.

  Had this letter been taken by the same person that took the note she’d written to Myraa? Unlikely.

  “Aaryana, why did you do this?” asked the King, disappointment thick in his voice. “That’s not the girl I thought you were.” He shook his head.

  “I can’t ap
ologise enough, Your Majesty,” she mumbled, head bowed.

  “If you’d come to me… asked me… told me that you needed to write this… if you’d shown me this letter and explained… I would have allowed it. I would have come to the same decision that I came to just now. But you went behind my back. You betrayed me. I don’t know if I trust that you won’t do it again.”

  “I won’t, Your Majesty.”

  He stared at her with intense eyes, and for a very long time. Then, he sighed heavily. “I hope I don’t regret this… I’m giving you a second chance. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Aaryana bowed low.

  The praises she’d sung about him in her letter had played a very significant part in getting her acquitted here.

  “Now, go find Quin and pick your icon.”

  He waved his hand in dismissal and she left his office as swiftly as she could. She almost collided with Wyett and Seth at the top of the stone staircase. They seemed to be waiting for her, or for their father, out of sight of the guards.

  “Aaryana,” Seth said, “what happened in there?”

  “I, err, can’t—I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “I think His Majesty has forgiven me—”

  “What?” barked Wyett. “No punishment?”

  “He didn’t mention—”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  Wyett threw his arms up, too shocked to feel the right level of fury. He made to head back towards his father’s office but Seth grabbed his arm. Before his brother could say anything, they heard a young female voice float up the stairs. The three of them turned towards the steps.

  “There you are!” It was Quin. Carrying that wooden chest with the velvet pouches.

  Aaryana hadn’t figured out what the people in the Throne Room were doing, but it appeared as though they were trying to find a prize hidden inside one of the pouches. Yet, everyone seemed to get a cheer whatever they ended up with. She hadn’t been close enough to see exactly what the pouches held, but those ‘icons’—that’s what the King had called them just now—didn’t seem to be made of anything sparkly.