by Neha Yazmin
“And why have you been shirking your duties all day?” he demanded, eyes flashing, anger seeping into his voice. “You didn’t speak to anyone in the dining hall, and came straight to your room.”
Again, he could have confronted her about this in front of the King later, gotten her into trouble. If she believed one thing he’d ever said to her, it was that he wanted her out of the Palace. So, why hadn’t he waited until the meeting?
“Well?” he pressed.
Aaryana had an answer ready. “I wasn’t feeling too well,” she said, walking around him and out into the lounge.
She heard him follow as she went and took hold of the knob of the front door. She didn’t open it just yet.
“I was worried that I’d get ill again, so I wanted to get as much rest as possible. Which is why I made myself comfortable”—she gestured at her night clothes—“and hoped to have a nap before going up in front of the King.
“So, if you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have an hour before the maid comes to wake me. Though, she thinks she’ll be waking me up so I can secretly meet my lover. Who, for all intents and purposes, happens to be you.”
Unsurprisingly, Wyett glared at her. She opened the door and gestured with her arms for him to be on his way, and wasn’t surprised that he left almost immediately, clenching his teeth as he did so. The last thing he wanted to acknowledge was the fact that they were supposed to be playing the role of lovers, so, of course, he left before she said any more on it.
Most of the Palace was awake when Aaryana climbed out of bed the next morning. In fact, she thought it was the commotion that had roused her. Her plan had been to sneak out of the castle just as it became light, before anyone was up, but it seemed as though it wasn’t to be.
She had two choices: Leave the grounds in plain sight and hope that no one followed her to the mountains or postpone her trip. The latter was the safest idea, but she really needed to speak to the Nidiyans about the prophecy. And she was fully packed and prepared…
Should I risk it? Well, it would be good to first find out why the Court was starting their day so early. Nothing bad was happening, she could tell. If anything, the sounds and excited voices made her think that the Court was readying for a celebration. Pulling on her robe, she left her bedroom and saw that Jeena had just entered the lounge.
“Jeena, why is everyone up so early?”
The girl looked sheepish. “I apologise, my Lady, I should have told you. But you were ill and I didn’t know if you’d recover in time...”
“So, the King is throwing a party, is he?”
“Not exactly…”
“What’s happening, then?”
“It’s the first full moon of autumn tonight, my Lady,” Jeena said. “And—”
“Oh, you’re celebrating the harvest!”
Adgar celebrated the harvest, too, with a huge feast in the Palace gardens. To most of the people at Court, it was just another feast. Roshdan’s nobility didn’t get too excited about it, either, it seemed, otherwise she would have heard the ladies talking about it upon her return to Court. Then again, everyone had been too busy talking to, or about, Rozlene to mention anything else.
Unfortunately, the women didn’t come to see Aaryana last night; they would have had the entire night to talk—Wyett had cancelled the meeting with the King. It’s best not to meet, his note had said, seen as you’re feeling unwell.
“You should have reminded me, Jeena.”
“I’m sorry, my Lady.” Her guilty expression turned expectant as she added, “Oh, I hope you and the Crown Prince find each other tonight.”
“Find each other?” Aaryana chuckled. “When did we lose each other?”
“Exactly!” The girl clapped her hands together and beamed before hurrying to draw her a bath. “You’re going to have a great time today, my Lady.”
Yes, a great time not seeing the Nidiyans.
A simple black gown was waiting for her after her bath. It was made from soft, light material, had long sleeves, and black buttons all the way down the front. A waist-length hooded cloak in the same fabric was draped on the bed beside it.
“What’s this?”
“Well,” Jeena began, biting back a grin, “seen as the Prince hasn’t officially proposed to you, or announced that he is courting you, the two of you are technically unclaimed. So, you have to wear black like the rest of us that have yet to pledge ourselves to someone.”
“If you say so, Jeena.”
Perhaps the dress code for the feast differed based on one’s marital status? Adgar didn’t have such customs, and she thought it was probably better that way. It was still rather warm in autumn in the southern Islands; being dressed in black wouldn’t be particularly comfortable.
When she arrived at the dining hall, it was empty. There was no food or drink to be seen. She could hear chatter and laughter, though, the clinking of glasses and tinkling of cutlery. The Court was up, but where were they?
“Aaryana! I was hoping I’d find you here.”
She turned to see Seth in the dining room doorway. He was smiling at her, and didn’t look quite so pale or tired. He was dressed in a fancy deep blue tunic with gold embroidery all over. His pants were beige. No black fabric about his person. Did that mean he’d already pledged himself to someone?
Aaryana had heard a lot of Court gossip from Lisbeth and the other ladies, but none of them had mentioned that Seth had a lover or betrothed… She wanted to ask him about it, and a part of her wanted to interrogate the girl that he’d claimed—to make sure she was worthy of him—but her brain told her to say hello first.
“Seth! It’s so good to see you.” She went and embraced him.
He hugged her back, chuckling. “It’s good to have you back.”
He stepped back to look her over, as if to ensure that she was fully recovered.
“I’ve been back since—”
“I know, but Wyett told me to stay away from you. I think he got wind of us training together and wants to put a stop to it.”
“Oh.”
“Well, that’s what I think. He said he feels jealous of every man that looks at you, even if it’s just little old me.”
Aaryana was stunned for a second, her mind blank.
Eventually, she managed to say, “It’s not like him to admit to such a thing.”
“Exactly. That’s why I think he was just saying it—to stop us from training together. I mean, what kind of brother would I be if I spent time with you when I knew it made him jealous? He knows I don’t have to obey his command to not train with you, so he took a different approach.”
“And what’s so bad about you training with me?” she challenged, wondering if Seth might confide in her about his sickness.
He didn’t. “Many reasons,” he said evasively. “Which we don’t need to go into. Right now, it’s time you came to breakfast. I just wanted to explain why I didn’t speak to you yesterday. Why I’ll be keeping my distance if Wyett’s around.” He winked at her.
“And where is breakfast this morning?”
“Come,” he said, offering her his arm, “I’ll take you.”
“What about your brother?” she asked hesitantly, but her arm wrapped around his and they started walking together.
“A little jealousy didn’t kill anyone.” Seth flashed her the cheekiest grin and she burst out laughing.
For the first time since Malin was born, the harvest festival wasn’t taking place. The excessive rain had ruined the majority of the Island’s crops, so there wouldn’t be much of a harvest to celebrate. The cancellation had been announced weeks ago when farmers had reported that they’d be lucky if they could still use their land next year after everything that the soil had suffered this summer due to the extreme conditions.
She wouldn’t have remembered that the festival would have been observed today if she hadn’t heard a couple of servants murmuring about it as she made her way to the library. The girls were saying that it was lucky tha
t Parth was the nephew of Queen Noora of neighbouring Khadak, and how generous it was of his aunt to be preparing her largest trade ship with emergency supplies for Adgar.
“Hopefully,” one of the servants said, “the weather won’t be like this next year.”
Indeed, Adgar couldn’t rely on Khadak for rice and corn and oats forever.
“It’s such a relief,” the other girl added, “that the weather isn’t like this in our neighbouring Islands.”
As Malin rushed away from them and entered the library, she said a silent prayer for everything in Adgar to return to normal as soon as possible.
She could have asked the librarians to return the Tale of the Sea Princess to its rightful shelf. However, Malin didn’t want them to know what she was reading, so she took a roundabout route to the bookcase that the story belonged to and put it back herself. She was extra careful as she slid it into its spot, not wanting to leave any clues that the book had been temporarily removed from its place.
That’s when she realised that the book next to it was a second edition copy of the Sea Princess’s story, and a rather bruised and battered one at that. The version that she’d just returned—now that she looked at it, she saw that it said, ‘THIRD EDITION’ on the spine—was almost in pristine condition compared to its preceding volume.
The second edition of the book had probably been printed when this tale was at the height of its popularity—that’s why it was so worn from use. Her fingers itched to examine the frail-looking book, but she knew she ought to hurry back to her room. Parth may have been in the Palace Pool yesterday morning, but he definitely wasn’t there now.
On Saturdays, especially if it was dry like it was today, he liked to visit the dungeons below the castle. It was the coolest place in Adgar, a sanctuary from the stifling heat of the dry days, and though he always invited Leesha and her ladies-in-waiting to join him, they refused to follow him down there.
It was, after all, the dungeons.
When the dry days had first become unbearable, Parth used to spend hours in the dungeons on a daily basis, to cool down. Leesha had tried her best to limit his time there. She didn’t want him to seek refuge in the underground tunnels and cells that were reserved for criminals. It was no place for Royalty.
However, she didn’t want the weather to make him so uncomfortable, either, and eventually made an agreement with him. He could go to the dungeons just one day a week, and he usually chose Saturdays. “Fridays and Saturdays will be my days off,” he would joke, referring to his Friday swims and Saturday trips to the dungeons.
No one offered to accompany him during either one of these pastimes, and that meant he could leave the dungeons at any time and track down Malin right here by the Sea Princess’s bookshelf if he wanted to.
I really ought to go back to my room, and empty-handed. And yet, the old book was a little piece of history, touched by hundreds of pairs of hands over the centuries from the looks of it... She couldn’t resist taking a quick look through it…
“Have you heard of the Princess of the sea?
From the depths of the ocean she did flee.
Her lullabies were such that she,
Could lull great men to sleep,
She married no mortal but had children a-plenty,
And never looked back at the almighty sea.”
Blinking rapidly, as though to clean her eyes, as though they’d read wrong, Malin went through the introductory rhyme again. Yes, it was different to the one in the book that she’d placed back on the shelf. Quite different, indeed.
Even though she didn’t need to, she took out the third edition, turned to the first page, and confirmed that the two epigraphs were nowhere near identical.
One difference stood out most severely: In the newest version of the book, the poem merely explained where the Sea Princess had come from—“From the depths of the ocean came she”—whereas the second edition claimed that the she’d fled from the waters—“From the depths of the ocean she did flee”—that she didn’t just leave the sea. She escaped it. Which was very interesting.
Why would a Princess flee her Kingdom?
The other intriguing change made in the epigraph in the third edition was the mention of a specific man that she loved—the brave fisherman that she married in the end—but the shabby volume that had come before it said that the Sea Princess didn’t marry at all, despite giving birth to many children. Odd for a children’s story… Everyone usually got married and lived a good happy life.
Needing to see how the story differed to the one she’d just read, Malin decided to take the second edition to the safety of her chambers. There were plenty of hiding places in her rooms should an unexpected guest turn up, and she’d have fair warning before they entered.
It was tradition to wake up at dawn on this day and start celebrating with friends and family, meet up with as many of your loved ones as you could, while remembering those that had passed away. Wyett refused to think about his mother, because if he did, he would end up thinking about how she’d died and that wasn’t something he could deal with now.
He had fought away memories of his mother only recently, after the Adgari asked him about her during the Harmony Dance. He didn’t have the mental strength to shove them aside if they flooded in again, not when he had so much on his mind.
His father was becoming restless because Wyett was taking too long in unmasking the traitors at Court, Seth’s growing fondness for the Adgari was frustrating, and the rebels’ quiet recuperation was worrying. And his father was planning to join the celebrations tonight, thus leaving the Palace grounds for the first time since the rebel attack in Sidkat.
“The people need to see their King, Wyett,” his father had insisted last night.
Wyett had requested an audience with him after leaving the Adgari’s chambers and the King had mentioned he’d be participating in the harvest festival. Wyett knew his father had left it so late to tell him because he didn’t want to spend more than one night arguing about it with his Heir.
“I have to oversee proceedings. It’s tradition, you know that.”
Gritting his teeth, Wyett had said, “I also know that the festival will provide the rebels with the perfect opportunity to attack. It will be too easy for them.”
“Which is why they won’t expect me to be there,” the King countered. “They’d be stupid to assume that I’d give them a shot at me.”
“I don’t think it’s the rebels that will be doing anything stupid tomorrow night.”
“Wyett!” His father glared at him for his insolence. Wyett bowed his head in apology. Sighing heavily, his father said, “Being King entails more than just sitting on a Throne and passing laws. You can’t ask me to—”
“I’m asking you for Quin and Seth, to be our father,” Wyett pleaded. “Don’t be King for one night. Be a father.”
“I’m sorry, I cannot. I’ve been cooped up in this dreary old castle for too long—”
“You’re going to put so many people’s lives in danger,” Wyett warned him.
“Micah won’t hurt the people he wants to rule,” his father argued. “He knows it will turn people against him.”
“You’re assuming he still cares. Not everyone wants to be a good, just ruler, Father. Some men just want to sit on a Throne and pass laws.”
“Well, this King has made his decision, and you will respect that.”
“I’m sorry, I cannot.”
“It will be alright, Wyett,” his father said softly. “Only you know that I’m going. Tomorrow night, it’s just going to be my bodyguards that will know, just before I set off. Micah can’t attack when he doesn’t know I’ll be there.”
“He’ll find out once you arrive.”
“And it won’t be enough time to launch an attack.” The stubborn look on his face made clear that the King wasn’t going to change his mind.
Wyett inhaled deeply. “Just remember this: If there is an attack, I won’t be running to protect you.
”
“Good. I don’t want you to risk your life like that.”
“I mean it, Father.”
“I know you do.”
Did he, though? Would Wyett be able to stand by and watch as his father was taken down by Micah? Last night, he’d been angry enough that he thought he’d do just that, but when he woke up at the break of dawn today, he felt grateful that at least the Adgari would run to the King’s defence if the rebels ambushed him at the festival.
Speaking of the Adgari… There she was, walking arm-in-arm with Seth, joining everyone at the outdoor breakfast banquet in the gardens. Hadn’t he told them to stay away from each other? Sucking in an angry breath, he marched towards the pair, ready to take out the frustrations he felt towards his father on them.
At the last second, Seth dropped the girl’s arm and walked swiftly away, leaving her standing alone just as Wyett came to a stop a few steps in front of her. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Seth approaching Erisa by the small tent where servants were making tea. He gave the Adgari a moment to make her getaway but she stayed put. She was wearing the black robes that were traditionally worn by maidens at the harvest festival, the hood of her cloak down.
“You’re supposed to cover your hair, too,” he found himself blurting out.
“Oh.” She blinked and quickly pulled the hood up.
“At the party tonight, I mean.”
“Oh.”
But she only pushed her hood off after scanning the garden and realising that the handful of women wearing black didn’t have their hair covered. Then she took in his long black robes.
“Why is Se—your brother not wearing black, Your Highness?”
Remembering that she and Seth had come out here together, he snapped, “Why didn’t you ask him? You were with him just now, despite my warning.”
She squared her shoulders. “He found me in the dining room and escorted me here. I didn’t know breakfast was being served outside. And I did ask him about his clothes. He said, ‘black isn’t my colour’, and said no more.”
