“It's okay...” I fumble with his name, not sure which one he is.
“Samir.”
“Samir,” I say, “just... please stop bowing,”
“Your Highness?”
“It bother me,” I say, “I feel‒ I don't know. Just‒don't bow, okay?”
“I'll bow only when absolutely necessary, alright?”
“Thank you.”
“You must be hungry,” He says, “how about we go eat now?”
“Yes, please,” I say and follow him down the hallway.
The smell of something delicious enters my nose and my mouth waters. My stomach responds with a growl and I try not to be embarrassed. Samir smiles at me and we walk into a room dominated by a long, elegant, wooden table. Sahariel and Perul are already there.
“Milady,” Sahariel bows.
I fidget and Samir stifles a laugh.
“Samir,” Perul says, “thank you for escorting her while I spoke with Sahariel.”
“My pleasure.”
They motion for me to take a seat at the head of the table. Sahariel pulls the chair out for me to sit down and Samir gives him an odd look that I can't quite decipher. The colors here are more intricate. It's going to take time to learn what they mean.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You're welcome, Milady,” Sahariel says and sits in a chair to my left. Perul and Samir sit to my right.
Food is serves and everything smells so amazing. It all tastes so perfect and I can't help but stuff myself.
“Milady.”
A servant appears at my side with a tray.
“Someone has just dropped this off for you,” she lifts the domed lid and reveals a small chocolate cake.
I reach for the platter when Sahariel stops me.
“Who left this?” Sahariel asks.
“I don't know, sir,” the servant says, “He did leave a note though.”
The servant produces a piece of folded parchment which Sahariel takes and reads.
“I sincerely hope you enjoy the necklace,” he reads.
I try not to laugh and take the cake before anyone can stop me. I take a bite and see a horrified look on Perul and Samir's faces.
“Necklace?” Perul asks.
I pull on the chair with my thumb, exposing the emerald as I try not to appear too gluttonous.
“A man in the market gave it to me,” I say.
“Which one?”
“I don't know his name, but he didn't want payment,” I say, “he just told me he made it for me. Like he knew I was coming.”
Samir and Perul exchange knowing glances.
“Please,” Perul says, “next time, let someone test the food before you eat it.”
“Why?”
“Because it could be poisoned,” Sahariel says.
“Oh.”
Perul sighs.
“Well, if it makes any difference, the cake is tasty,” I say.
Samir chuckles and Sahariel rolls his eyes. I finish the cake, loving how I somehow managed to save room for it even though I didn't even know it was coming. I sit back in my seat and pat my stomach.
“Full?” Perul asks.
I nod.
“Okay then, on to business. I hate to have this move so quickly, but tomorrow we have to have your coronation.”
“Coronation?” I ask.
“We need to make the public aware that you've arrived. We need to crown you.”
“Why so soon?”
“Because a land without a leader is on a dangerous path. Aside from that, there will always be decisions that only our leader can make.”
I sigh and make a noncommittal noise but it's smothered under a yawn. I look at the men around me and try not to look too embarrassed.
Chapter Fifteen
I stand there as brushes are pulled through my shoulder length hair. Four women who rudely woke me only hours ago are now plaiting and decorating my hair with what, I don't know. I haven't been allowed to look in a mirror yet, and every time I try I get tutted at by a supposedly older woman.
“No,” she slaps my hand away as I'm about to touch my hair, “I'm sorry, my Queen, but no touching.”
I sigh.
I've never had my hair done, not even once. Then the first time I do, I can't even look at it.
“Are we done yet?” I ask.
The woman says nothing. She only shakes her head.
The pinning, tying, bowing and banding eventually slows until eventually they stop.
“Okay,” the woman says, “you're done. Now you can look.”
I'm about to step down to look in a mirror when I hear a low whistle come from the doorway. I look over and see Sahariel leaning against the door frame.
“You look amazing,” he says.
“Do you really think so?” I ask, “I haven't had the chance to look yet.”
“You really do.”
I step toward the mirror and look into it.
“Wow,” I say.
I lightly touch my face and then my hair. I can't say anything. The women had managed to take my hair and pin, tie and tuck until my red hair was tousled and black raven feathers were tucked in elegantly. I look like a wild woman; an extremely well dressed, elegant wild woman.
Sahariel laughs, “Don't look so worried. You look great. Everyone's going to love you. We won't really know that for sure until you actually get out there, though.”
Sahariel pulls me from the room and I step out onto the balcony. The sea of faces below rises up to greet me. I fidget as they stare at me, trying to convince myself not to be nervous.
They're just as scared of you as you are of them.
I repeat the mantra in my mind, barely registering that Samir and Perul are speaking. A weight pulls me from my own mind and then the people are clapping. My sea is applauding me. My hand finds its way to my head.
It's a crown, and I feel like Miss America. I look at the sea of faces and I hear the applause, but I somehow feel like I'm missing something. I just look down at them, wishing I knew how to act.
Sahariel ushers me inside after a few minutes, telling me that there's another group of people I need to meet; the family.
“What do you mean?”
“There are people your mother was related to that you need to meet.
“How many people will there be?” I ask.
“About thirteen and that's not including the guards.”
I stare at him.
“That's a least 26 people!”
“That's not too many,” Sahariel says.
“But these are the people that are going to be judging me the harshest,” I say, “I don't think I can do this.”
I lean against a wall and try not to hyperventilate. I'm nervous and I'm just hoping I can control the emotion so it doesn't get horribly out of control.
“Are you alright?” Sahariel asks.
He places a hand on my hip as he stand in front of me, mirroring my pose as I lean against the cool stone wall. I slowly look down at the hand and he takes it back.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little worried is all.”
“I know it's a lot to take in right now, but don't worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“If you say so.”
“Just focus on something else,” he suggests.
“Like...?”
“Well,” he says, “you're about to meet a lot of people. It might be prudent to try to remember their names.”
“Hmm,” I say.
Trying to remember names sure would take my mind off the nervousness. Hopefully I can actually remember the names instead of just pretending to.
“Are you ready?”
I nod.
Sahariel offers his arm and I take the support gratefully. We walk to the great hall and I try to keep my steps steady. The doors to the great hall are opened and I try not to look at all the faces as I'm walked passed them to stand on a platform at the head of the room. I turn and face the crowd, and easily see mixed reviews about my arrival.
I can easily see the happiness and compassion swirl together in languid greens and yellows, but unfortunately I also see the skepticism emanating from a few people. I'm surprised I don't see it coming from more. I don't have time, though, to decipher the swirls more fully, because soon the names start flying at me.
The names of people in my family swirl around me; Emero, Zever, Xia, Jora, Ket, Mora. I look at their faces as they step forward. All of them have unique sounding names to me. Then it hits me; I'm the only one with a human name.
“I feel so out of place,” I whisper to Sahariel.
“How so? Aside from the obvious.”
“Everyone has an elf name and I have a human one.” I just about pout.
He chuckles.
“You're meeting your closest relatives, all of which make up the royal court. All of these people will be addressing you as your highness, milady or my queen, and you're worried about being different because of your name.”
“Oh great,” I say, “Now you've reminded me.”
Sahariel sighs and shakes his head.
A man steps forward from the crowd, but instead of introducing himself like all the others, he glares at me. His aura swirls around him, red, green, gray and brown as his thoughts about me change. Anger, jealousy, skepticism, and green flash across his face as he stares up at me on my raised platform.
“You're joking,” the older man says, “you have to be.”
The man speaks to the crowd but gestures to me as he speaks.
“Am I missing something?” I ask.
“That is Dorian,” Sahariel says, “He is your mother’s uncle, or your great uncle. He was next in line for the throne if you hadn't been found. Although he has royal blood, everyone can tell he's not fit for the crown.”
I watch Dorian as he gestures madly at me.
“How can this‒” he looks at me, “how can she rule us? Just look at her!”
And they do. All the eyes in the room turn from him to me.
“She's just a little girl! Just past her maturity nonetheless.” He says, “Where did they drag her up from anyway? How do we know she’s the late king’s kin?”
Sahariel steps forward, “Do you not remember what Narah looked like?”
“And that's supposed to mean something?” Dorian asks.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask before anyone can stop me.
“I'm sure you know, just as everyone here, that Narah didn't exactly have the best reputation.”
The room goes silent.
I'm not sure what he means, but I know it can't be good. The implication alone tells me, but I want to hear him say it.
“No,” I say, “I don't think I quite understand. Why don't you enlighten me?”
“You don't think your father was the only one, do you?” He says, “Why do you think, that when she met him, she never came back? She ran away, not to be with your father, although that is a good excuse, but to run away from her‒ how would you say it‒dirtied reputation.”
I'm pissed. My hands are balled into fists at my sides. All I can see is red, and I'm not sure if it's from others or if my anger is clouding my vision.
“How dare you say that.”
I glare at him with such hatred, that if looks could kill, he would wish he'd never been born.
“I'm surprised no one said it sooner,” He says smugly.
Sahariel places a hand on my shoulder, whether to restrain or comfort, I don't know, but neither is going to work.
“Apologize.”
“For saying the truth? I think not.”
I shake off Sahariel's hand and walk forward.
I've never been a good fighter. Even in my darkest moments of my mortality I've never wished any harm upon another person. But this man who stand before me now, I want to make him suffer.
I don't want to cause him pain. In fact, I want to take it away, along with everything else. I want to take away his pride, his anger, happiness, joy, love, sadness, everything. I want him empty; devoid.
I walk to him, my long dress trailing behind me. The color fades around the room slowly with each step until I'm right in front of him.
“You will say you're sorry, now.”
“No.”
My anger flares and I watch as I strip him of his aura. The colors fading away until he's empty. Dorian falls to his knees in front of me.
“You do not want to anger me any further,” I say, “or else I may not give them back.”
I look down at him, the smug look wiped from his face, his soul empty.
“Do not test me, you do not know what I am capable of. Now you will apologize for what you said about my mother. You will never breathe a word of it again. Understand?”
He blinks and doesn't answer.
“Understand?!”
“Y‒yes, milady,” he stumbles over himself, “I‒I'm sorry. I will never say them again.”
“Good,” I say.
I turn my back to him, not caring to watch him flee as I return his emotions to him. I start to walk back to where Sahariel is standing when it feels like my knees are about to give out. My vision starts to fade and I stop walking. Before my vision fades completely, I find Sahariel and hope he can read the expression on my face. As I faint I feel myself falling. I feel the ground nearing me, like I'm falling in slow motion, and there's nothing I can do. I can't catch myself.
I pair of arms are under me then, catching me, keeping me safe from hitting the ground. I can hear voices around me. They're worried, but all I concentrate on is the feeling of the arms holding me. I wish I could tell them I was fine, but my voice won't respond.
My eyes eventually open and my view is crowded by many worried faces, but I only look at one. I only look for one; Sahariel's.
His face is lined with anxiety. He notices that my eyes are open, that I'm looking at him, and the relief is plain on his face.
“Are you okay?” He asks, then more quietly, “Your heart?”
“Yes,” I say, “I'm fine. It's fine.”
I try to sit up and I get a head rush. I fall back into his open arms.
“Okay,” I say, “maybe a little tired.”
“Milady,” a man comes up to me, and introduces himself as the court physician, Damien, “I believe it would be best if you went to bed and rested.”
Sahariel helps me sit up, then stand up for make an announcement, “The queen is not feeling well at the moment. I shall escort her to her chambers.”
He leans down and asks, “Can you stand?”
“I believe so,” I say, “but I will need help getting there.”
Sahariel smiles and wraps his arms around my waist. He stands up slowly, and stronger than any human male, he pulls me up with him. He smiles at me as my feet touch the ground.
“Don't let go,” I say.
“I won't.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Sahariel keeps his arm securely wrapped around me and walks me out of the room, supporting all of my weight.
Chapter Sixteen
“What was that?” I ask Sahariel after he's sufficiently tucked my into my new bed.
“That,” he says, “was you using your powers. You're strong, but you over did it for your first time.”
He sits down next to me and looks at me with sad eyes.
“What were you thinking?” He asks me.
“I don't know,” I look at my hands, “I guess I was mad. He was saying all of those things about my mom, and I couldn't stand it. I was so angry with him. I didn't know what else to do.”
“Well, at least we have one thing straightened out.”
“What's that?”
“There's no doubt about your lineage.”
“I don't get it.”
“Only those with royal blood can do what you just did.”
“I don't know why anyone else would want to, I feel totally drained.”
“It's to be expected.”
“So will this
happen again?”
“Not unless you do it again.”
I playfully swat his arm, the action making me more aware of how tired I am, and Sahariel can tell. He grabs my hand before it can hit the bed and cradles it in his own. I hadn't realized how cold my fingers are until now.
“You're freezing,” He says.
“Only my hands,” I say.
He picks up my other hand and holds them both in his. He rubs his hands over mine to warm them.
“Promise me you'll be more careful next time.”
I look at him as he places his lips to the tips of my fingers.
“I just,” he says, “I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you.”
He says the words with such conviction that I can almost feel my heart break along with his.
“Sahariel,” I say.
He looks up at me.
“I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Please,” he says, “promise me?”
I sigh as I look at him. One of his hands leaves mine and he traces the pale line of skin over my heart.
“Just promise me, Eden.”
“I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“Well,” I say, “I don't know why you wanted me to. You're not rid of me yet.”
He laughs softly and puts my hands down now that they're warm.
“Anyway,” he says, “I should go and let you get some rest.”
He stands and walks to the door. “A servant will come by every now and then to check on you. If you need me, well, you know how to reach me.”
He looks back at me as he opens the door and I smile. He smiles back then walks out of the door, closing the door quietly behind himself. Even though it isn't late, I close my eyes and fall asleep.
A loud clang noise outside of my door wakes me the next day. I gather myself up and, my curiosity getting the better of me, pad across the room and open the door.
“Oh, milady,” a servant girl jumps back from the doorway, “I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't disturb you.”
I just look at the girl and see the candelabra at her feet. She looks really worried.
“Don't worry about it,” I say, “I shouldn't have slept so long anyway. It's a good thing someone bothered to make some sort of noise or else I would have been in bed for eternity.”
I smile at her and her nervousness quickly melts away. She smiles back at me.
Finding Eden Page 9
